In an instant after, Lady Rae was again in the presence of Oliver Cromwell.  As on the former occasion, he was employed in writing when she entered, and as on that occasion, so also he threw down his pen, and rose to receive her.

“Anent this matter of yours, my lady,” began Cromwell abruptly, and without any previous salutation, although he looked all civility and kindness, “I really hardly know what to say; truly do I not; but the Lord directs all, and He will guide us in this thing also.”

“I trust so!” interrupted Lady Rae, meekly.

“Yes,” resumed the future Protector of England; “for we are but weak creatures, short-sighted and erring.  But indeed, as I told you before, my lady, your husband is a State prisoner; truly is he, and therefore may I not interfere with him.  I cannot; I have not the power.  Yet would I serve thee if I could; truly would I with great pleasure.  But these, you see, are strange times, in which all men must walk warily; for we are beset with enemies, with traitors—­deceivers on all sides, men who fear not the Lord.  Yet, for this matter of yours, my Lady Rae, I will tell you:  I cannot take your husband from prison; it would be unseemly in the sight of all God-fearing men; but truly, if you could in any ways manage to get his lordship once without the prison walls, I would take upon me to prevent his being further troubled.  He should have a protection under my hand; truly he should, although it might bring me to some odium with my friends.  But he should have it, nevertheless, out of my respect for you, my lady.  Now go, go, my lady; I may say no more on the subject.  Go, try and fall on some means of getting thy husband without the walls of his prison; this done, come instantly to me, and thou shalt have a protection for him under my hand; indeed thou shalt.”

To Lady Rae, this proposal was a grievous disappointment.  It contained an arrangement which she had never contemplated, and which seemed as impracticable as it was strange; yet she saw it was all she had to expect, and that whatever might be the result, she must be content with the extent of interference on her husband’s behalf, which was included in the singular measures suggested by Cromwell.

Impressed with this conviction, Lady Rae thanked him for his kindness, said she would endeavour to get her husband without the prison gates by some means or other, and would then again wait upon him for the protection he was so generous as to offer.

“Do so, my lady, do so,” said Cromwell, escorting her ladyship to the door with an air of great gallantry; “and may the Lord have thee in his holy keeping.”

Lady Rae turned round, again thanked the general, curtseyed, and withdrew.

On reaching the street, her ladyship was instantly joined by her faithful attendant M’Kay, who had been waiting with the greatest anxiety and impatience for her return; for to him his master’s life and liberty were dearer far than his own, and he well knew that both were much in the power of the extraordinary man on whom his lady was now waiting.