In his excitement Lempriere had forgotten to quote Latin; he began to pace the floor of the room.  Prynne also rose and leaned by the window, looking out at the shrubs standing dark and blotted against the evening light that lay on the smooth water.

“Take not your example,” he said; “from those whose deeds you abhor, neither make your enemies your pattern.  Recollect who it is that hath said, ‘Vengeance is mine:’  and in the hour of your triumph remember to spare.  Come, give me your word, willingly.  I am doing much for you, more than you are aware.  I call to mind some solemn words that I have heard Mr. Milton quote:—­

    “The quality of Mercy is not strained,
    It droppeth as the gentle dew from Heaven
    Upon the place beneath:  it is twice blessed,
    It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.”

Let your promise to bless come as freely as the dews that are falling out there on my little grass-plot.  Peace is upon the world—­let peace be in our hearts also!”

The vehement controversial voice changed and became musical as it uttered the words.  The fervour of an unwonted mood had brought something of a mist into the speaker’s eye; persuasion hung upon his gestures, and the voice of private rancour sank before the pleading of his lips.  As the Jerseyman remained silent, Prynne went to the table and filled the glasses from the flagon of Rhenish wine that stood there.

“We Presbyterians,” he said, “are not given to the drinking of toasts.  But ’tis no common occasion.  England’s wars are over, may there be peace upon Israel.  Let us drink one glass together, and let us join in the blessing of old, invoking it on our land:—­’Peace be within thy walls and prosperity within thy palaces:  for my brethren and companions’ sake!’”

The guests followed their host’s example, and seemed to share his mood.  Then, setting down their empty glasses, the three men parted in more loving-kindness, it might well be, than what had marked some early stages of their conversation.  Prynne, when left alone, called for candles and sat down to his writing-table.  The Jerseymen walked together towards Temple Bar.

“Knowest thou, mon cher,” said the Ex-Bailiff in the island language, “a heartier friend than one of these English that seem so cold?”

“But tell me, I pray thee, wherefore they call the present master of our island by an English name?  For surely yonder gentleman said ‘Cartwright,’ which is a name not of Jersey but of England.”  “They are stupid, Alain, that is all; and they think to weigh the world in their own scales.  But whether we call him Cartwright or Carteret, it is equally hard to pardon his voracity.  He is like Time—­Edax rerum. Nevertheless, I feel as if it was not only the sight of you and news from home that had made me of such good cheer to-night:  but that I owe something of it to Mons. Prynne; aye! thanks to his schooling and a readiness to perform what he has made me promise, should Carteret ever stand at my disposal.  The time may be near or it may be far; but I feel that it must come.”