Robin, when he arrived in London, loitered away an hour around Whitehall and the Park, before he proceeded farther, and easily ascertained that the Protector was then at Hampton Court; as to who went with him, how long he would remain, or when he would return, he could receive no intelligence; for the best of all possible reasons—the movements of his Highness were secrets even from his own family.

There was much talk, however, and considerable speculation among all classes of people, as to whether he would yield to the eager entreaties of a certain party in the parliament, who were urgently pressing forward a motion, the object of which was, that Cromwell should exchange the title he had heretofore borne, and adopt the more time-honoured, but, alas! more obnoxious one, of King. Some of the more rigid sects were busily discoursing in groups, respecting Walton's Polyglott Bible, and the fitness or unfitness of the committee that had been sitting at Whitelock's house at Chelsea, to consider properly the translations and impressions of the Holy Scriptures. Robin received but surly treatment at the palace-gates, for minstrelsy was not the fashion; and he almost began to think the disguise he had selected was an injudicious one. He hastened on to the city, along the line of street now called the Strand, but which was then only partially skirted by houses, and delivered Dalton's invoices to the merchant beyond St. Paul's, who had need of the Genoa velvets; then proceeded to the dealer in jewels, by whom the pearls had been commanded. Here it appeared no easy matter to gain admission; but a few words mysteriously pronounced to a grave-looking person, whose occupation was half porter, half clerk, removed all obstacles, and he found himself in a dark, noisome room, at the back of one of the houses in Fenchurch Street—at that time much inhabited by foreign merchants, who were generally dealers in contraband goods, as well as in the more legitimate articles of commerce.

As soon as the wayfarer entered, he disburdened himself of his hump, and from between its folds produced strings of the finest pearls and heaped them on the table. The dealer put on his glasses, and examined them separately, with great care, but much rapidity; while Robin, like a good and faithful steward, kept his eyes steadily fixed upon the jewels, never losing sight of them for a single moment, until his attention was arrested by a person entering and addressing the merchant. Robin immediately recognised the stranger as the old Jew, Manasseh Ben Israel, whom he had seen at Sir Willmott Burrell's.

"Excuse me, I pray you, for a few moments, good Rabbi," observed the merchant, who was now occupied in entering the number, size, and quality of the pearls in a large book.

"I cannot wait, friend," was the Jew's quick reply, "for I am going a journey, and the night draws on darkly."

"Whither, sir, I pray you?"

"Even to Hampton House," replied Ben Israel, "to commune with his Highness, whom the God of Abraham protect!—and I am sorely perplexed, for my own serving-man is ill, and I know not whom to take, seeing I am feeble and require care, unless you can lend me the man Townsend: Samuel assures me he is a person of trust."

"Townsend is, unhappily, gone on secret business to a long distance, set off not an hour since: would that I had known it before!"

"There is no lack of servants," continued the Rabbi, "but there is great lack of faithfulness. I know not what to do, for I must see his Highness to-night."

"If it so please you," said little Robin, eagerly stepping forward, "I will go with you; I am sure this gentleman can answer for my fidelity, and I will answer for my own fitness."

The Rabbi and the merchant looked at each other, and then the latter observed,—

"I can well answer for this young man's trust-worthiness, seeing he has been engaged to bring me goods such as these, from secret sources, the nature of which you understand, excellent Ben Israel. But what know you of the service befitting a gentleman's servant?"

"I have been in that capacity, too," replied little Robin Hays.

"With whom?" inquired Manasseh.

"With one I care not much to name, sirs, for he does me no credit," was Robin's answer; "with Sir Willmott Burrell."The old man shuddered, and said in an agitated voice—"Then, indeed, you will not do for me on this occasion."

"Under favour," persisted Robin, "I know not the occasion, and therefore cannot judge, if I may speak so boldly; but I have seen you before, sir, and can only say, that knowing all his manoeuvres well, I am just the person to be trusted by his enemy."

"Young man," said the Jew, severely, "I am no man's enemy; I leave such enmity as you speak of to my Christian brethren. I ask only justice from my fellow mortals, and mercy from my God."

"But, sir, I thought you had sustained some wrong at the hands of Sir Willmott Burrell, from your visit at such an hour, and your manner on that night."

"Wrong! ay, such wrong as turns a father's hair grey, his veins dry, and scorches up his brain." The old man paused, for his feelings had overpowered him.

"I know none more faithful than Robin Hays," urged the pearl-merchant; "and now that I call to remembrance, the time he served that same knight, (who, I hear, is going to repair his fortunes by a wealthy marriage,) I think he did well as a lackey; though, to own the truth, I should fancy him more in his place, and to his liking, as the servitor to a bold Buccaneer."

"Buccaneer!" repeated Ben Israel—"What Buccaneer?"

"Oh!" said the merchant, smiling, "Hugh Dalton—the fairest man in the free trade."

"Hugh Dalton!" repeated the Jew, slowly: then adding, after a lengthened pause, "Art cunning in disguises?"

"As cunning as my body will permit," replied Robin.

"You have seen my faithful Samuel?"

"I have, sir."

"Then array thyself on the instant as much after his dress and fashion as is possible."

Robin hastily and right cheerfully obeyed this command; and, in less than half an hour, was rolling along the road to Hampton Court, in the guise of a serving Jew.