"I do, my Lord-General," was the reply, given in a sweet musical voice. "What lover of truth and freedom doth not?--'My lord fighteth the battles of the Lord, and evil hath not been found in thee all thy days.'"
He spoke with a warm sincerity which raised his words above the suspicion of flattery, and a flush overspread his naturally pallid features.
There was something about his person and manner wholly attractive; in his youth (he was now in middle age) he must have been of a beauty almost feminine, and his traits still had a frail and delicate comeliness; his large dark blue eyes were fatigued and heavy lidded as if swollen with overuse, and his pale cheek and the brow shaded by the long locks of brown hair bore traces of sickness and anxiety; his figure was slender and noble, and his black clothes were fine in quality; his whole appearance was of an elegance wholly lacking to the Lord-General's person; indeed, for all the sobriety of his attire, he appeared more like one of the unfortunate Cavaliers than one of the most vigorous champions of the Independents, the author of _Eikonoclastes_.
"I thank you, Mr. Milton," replied Cromwell. "I hope we may be better acquainted. You have laboured much and your reward halts, but I believe you have that greatness in you which is pleased to serve England without fee."
"For the little that I do I am even overpaid," replied John Milton, with a deepening of his boyish flush.
The glance of the two men met, and a look flashed between them as if they were wholly one in spirit; then the Secretary bowed again, and each went his way.
"The Council have bidden him write an answer to Salmasius' work," said Whitelocke. "He calls it _A Defence of the People of England_--but it doth not proceed as quickly as he would wish because his eyes fail him. He told me that at times he could hardly see the letters on the paper."
Cromwell looked back at the slender, erect figure walking away under the bare trees.
"Thou hast a brave heart if I mistake not," he murmured.
Then he went on again, Bulstrode Whitelocke still waiting for him to deliver himself.
Not until they had almost reached the confines of the Park and the houses of Charing Cross did the Lord-General speak.