n a tone that intimated
the conclusion of the conference; and Eustace quitted his presence,
scarce knowing whether to be rejoiced or dissatisfied.

The former, Gaston certainly was. "I have often been heartily weary of
garrison duty," said he, "but never can I be more weary of aught, than
of being looked upon askance by half the men I meet. And we may
sometimes hear the lark sing too, as well as the mouse squeak, Sir
Eustace. I know every pass of my native county, and the herds of
Languedoc shall pay toll to us."

Sir John Chandos, as Constable of Aquitaine, gave him the requisite
orders and information. The fortifications, he said, were in good
condition, and the garrison already numerous; but a sum of money was
allotted to him in order to increase their numbers as much as he should
deem advisable, since it was not improbable that he might have to
sustain a siege, as Oliver de Clisson was threatening that part of the
frontier. Four days were allowed for his preparations, after which he
was to depart for his government.

Eustace was well pleased with all that he heard, and returned to his
lodging, where, in the evening twilight, he was deeply engaged in
consultation with Gaston, on the number of followers to be raised, when
a light step was heard hastily approaching, and Arthur, darting into
the room, flung himself on his neck, exclaiming, "Uncle! uncle! go not
to this Castle!"

"Arthur, what brings you here? What means this? No foolish frolic, no
escape from punishment, I trust?" said Eustace, holding him at some
little distance, and fixing his eyes on him intently.

"No, uncle, no! On the word of a true Knight's son," said the boy,
stammering, in his eagerness, "believe me, trust me, dear uncle--and go
not to this fearful Castle. It is a trap--a snare laid to be your
death, by the foulest treachery!"

"Silence, Arthur!" said the Knight, sternly. "Know you not what
treason you speak? Some trick has been played on your simplicity, and
yet you--child as you are--should as soon think shame of your own
father as of the Prince, the very soul of honour."

"Oh, it is not the Prince: he knows nought of it; it is those double
traitors, the Baron of Clarenham and Sir Leonard Ashton, who have
worked upon him and deceived him."

"Oh, ho!" said Gaston. "The story now begins to wear some semblance of
probability."

Arthur turned, looking perplexed. "Master d'Aubricour," said he, "I
forgot that you were here.