Determined at length to dispatch his packet to the General without delay, Colonel Everard approached the door of the apartment, in which, as was evident from the heavy breathing within, the prisoner Wildrake enjoyed a deep slumber, under the influence of liquor at once and of fatigue. In turning the key, the bolt, which was rather rusty, made a resistance so noisy, as partly to attract the sleeper’s attention, though not to awake him. Everard stood by his bedside, as he heard him mutter, “Is it morning already, jailor? — Why, you dog, an you had but a cast of humanity in you, you would qualify your vile news with a cup of sack; — hanging is sorry work, my masters — and sorrow’s dry.”

“Up, Wildrake — up, thou ill-omened dreamer,” said his friend, shaking him by the collar.

“Hands off!” answered the sleeper. —“I can climb a ladder without help, I trow.”— He then sate up in the bed, and opening his eyes, stared around him, and exclaimed, “Zounds! Mark, is it only thou? I thought it was all over with me — fetters were struck from my legs — rope drawn round my gullet — irons knocked off my hands — hempen cravat tucked on — all ready for a dance in the open element upon slight footing.”

“Truce with thy folly, Wildrake; sure the devil of drink, to whom thou hast, I think, sold thyself”—

“For a hogshead of sack,” interrupted Wildrake; “the bargain was made in a cellar in the Vintry.”

“I am as mad as thou art, to trust any thing to thee,” said Markham; “I scarce believe thou hast thy senses yet.”

“What should ail me?” said Wildrake —“I trust I have not tasted liquor in my sleep, saving that I dreamed of drinking small-beer with Old Noll, of his own brewing. But do not look so glum, man — I am the same Roger Wildrake that I ever was; as wild as a mallard, but as true as a game-cock. I am thine own chum, man — bound to thee by thy kind deeds — devinctus beneficio — there is Latin for it; and where is the thing thou wilt charge me with, that I wilt not, or dare not execute, were it to pick the devil’s teeth with my rapier, after he had breakfasted upon round-heads?”

“You will drive me mad,” said Everard. —“When I am about to intrust all I have most valuable on earth to your management, your conduct and language are those of a mere Bedlamite. Last night I made allowance for thy drunken fury; but who can endure thy morning madness? — it is unsafe for thyself and me, Wildrake — it is unkind — I might say ungrateful.”

“Nay, do not say that, my friend,” said the cavalier, with some show of feeling; “and do not judge of me with a severity that cannot apply to such as I am. We who have lost our all in these sad jars, who are compelled to shift for our living, not from day to day, but from meal to meal — we whose only hiding place is the jail, whose prospect of final repose is the gallows — what canst thou expect from us, but to bear such a lot with a light heart, since we should break down under it with a heavy one?”

This was spoken in a tone of feeling which found a responding string in Everard’s bosom. He took his friend’s hand, and pressed it kindly.

“Nay, if I seemed harsh to thee, Wildrake, I profess it was for thine own sake more than mine. I know thou hast at the bottom of thy levity, as deep a principle of honour and feeling as ever governed a human heart. But thou art thoughtless — thou art rash — and I protest to thee, that wert thou to betray thyself in this matter, in which I trust thee, the evil consequences to myself would not afflict me more than the thought of putting thee into such danger.”

“Nay, if you take it on that tone, Mark,” said the cavalier, making an effort to laugh, evidently that he might conceal a tendency to a different emotion, “thou wilt make children of us both — babes and sucklings, by the hilt of this bilbo. — Come, trust me; I can be cautious when time requires it — no man ever saw me drink when an alert was expected — and not one poor pint of wine will I taste until I have managed this matter for thee. Well, I am thy secretary — clerk — I had forgot — and carry thy dispatches to Cromwell, taking good heed not to be surprised or choused out of my lump of loyalty, (striking his finger on the packet,) and I am to deliver it to the most loyal hands to which it is most humbly addressed — Adzooks, Mark, think of it a moment longer — Surely thou wilt not carry thy perverseness so far as to strike in with this bloody-minded rebel? — Bid me give him three inches of my dudgeon-dagger, and I will do it much more willingly than present him with thy packet.”

“Go to,” replied Everard, “this is beyond our bargain. If you will help me it is well; if not, let me lose no time in debating with thee, since I think every moment an age till the packet is............