He had been too directly guided by destiny to refuse the last stage.

Cromwell was waiting on a providence, and of that providence it was clear that fate had made him the channel.

In the coach he had surrendered himself willingly to an unseen direction, and now he dared not refuse the same docility.

He, who for usual was ripe, balanced, mellow in judgment, felt at the moment the gloomy impulsion of the fanatic.

He was only a pipe for the Almighty to sound through.
In the hall at Downing the logs were stirred to a blaze, and food and drink brought in a hospitable stir.
"I have a letter to write before I sleep," Mr.Lovel told his daughter.
"I will pray from Colonel Flowerdue the use of his cabinet." Cecily looked at him inquiringly, and he laughed.
"The posts at Chastlecote are infrequent, Cis, and I may well take the chance when it offers.