This proved a sore disaster to the besiegers.  The soldiers, too, began to cry out for their pay.  The long-expected plunder of Lathom had hitherto kept them quiet; but they were now willing to leave this precious booty to the next comers, and content themselves with their stated allowance.

Rigby, fearful of the crumbling away and dispersion of his army, made shift to furnish some small arrears of their pay, declaring that it had cost him L2000 of his own moneys during the siege; but how he got such great store of gold we are not informed, safe that “he was once a lawyer, and a bad one!”

Still there were many deserters, escaping even in the open day; not a few of them coming over with valuable intelligence to the garrison.

Wearied with duty, and sorely perplexed, Rigby sent for Col.  Holland, from Manchester, to his assistance.  Many days now elapsed, during which little happened worth recording on either side.  On the 23d May, Captain Moseley brought another message to her ladyship, desiring, in terms of great courtesy and respect, that she would grant him an interview.  He was received with great ceremony; for she abated not a whit of the dignity belonging to her high birth and station.

“Captain Moseley,” said she, having read the summons, commanding her that she should yield up the house, together with the ammunition, arms, goods, servants, children, and her own person too—­submitting to the mercy of parliament, “you are, I understand, an honourable man and a soldier.”

He bowed with great humility.

“I would not receive this from any other.  But”—­and her lip curled proudly as she spoke.  “Here seems a slight mistake in the wording of your message.  They should rather have written cruelty and not mercy!”

“Nay, my lady,” he replied, “the mercy of parliament.  Trust me, you will not be evil entreated at their hands.”

“The mercies of the wicked are cruel,” said she, quickly, but with great composure.  “Not that I mean,” she continued, “a wicked parliament, of which body I have an honourable and reverend esteem, but wicked agents and factors, such as Moore and Rigby, who for the advantage of their own interests labour to turn kingdoms into blood and ruin.  Besides, ’tis dangerous treating when the sword is given into the enemies’ hand.”

“Most assuredly, madam, as our tractates on the art of war teach us,—­which it seems you have not studied in vain,” said Moseley, bowing with an air of great deference and gallantry.  “Your ladyship is commander-in-chief, we hear.”

“My lord being absent.  I am left in trust, and cannot listen to treaties without his permission.”

“Not to dishonourable overtures, assuredly.  But if we agree to your own conditions,—­quitting the house in the way it shall seem best to your ladyship, as was once the basis of your own propositions, I believe, it cannot in this case be a reproach or a breach of trust, but will prevent much damage, and be the saving of many lives.”