He looked on with a steadfast gaze while a black-veiled executioner lifted the fatal axe and smote off that anointed head at a single blow.
"It is a righteous deed," perhaps he said to himself.
"Now Englishmen may enjoy their rights." At night, when the body of Charles was laid in the coffin, in a gloomy chamber, the general entered, lighting himself with a torch.

Its gleams showed that he was now growing old; his visage was scarred with the many battles in which he had led the van; his brow was wrinkled with care and with the continual exercise of stern authority.

Probably there was not a single trait, either of aspect or manner, that belonged to the little Noll who had battled so stoutly with Prince Charles.

Yet this was he! He lifted the coffin-lid, and caused the light of his torch to fall upon the dead monarch's face.

Then, probably, his mind went back over all the marvellous events that had brought the hereditary King of England to this dishonored coffin, and had raised himself, a humble individual, to the possession of kingly power.