by Alexandre Dumas

“ And Mordaunt darted out of the general's tent, his heart beating and his eyes sparkling with joy.
Cromwell gazed a moment after him.
"He has slain his uncle!" he murmured. "Alas! what are my servants? Possibly this one, who asks nothing or seems to ask nothing, has asked more in the eyes of Heaven than those who tax the country and steal the bread of the poor. Nobody serves me for nothing. ”

“ Instead of following the knot of prisoners that were being taken into the town, Mordaunt turned his steps toward the rising ground from whence Cromwell had witnessed the battle and on which he had just had his tent pitched.
Cromwell had given orders that no one was to be allowed admission; but the sentinel, who knew that Mordaunt was one of the most confidential friends of the general, thought the order did not extend to the young man. Mordaunt, therefore, raised the canvas, and saw Cromwell seated before a table, his head buried in his hands, his back being turned. ”

“ I had no such contempt for men before."
"Was I not a good ambassador in France?"
"Yes, for Mazarin has granted what I desire."
"Have I not always fought for your glory and interests?"
"Too ardently, perhaps; it is what I have just reproached you for. But what is the meaning of all these questions?" ”