knocked out by a troop of thirsty archers. A few words from the prince
disposed of each case, and, if the applicant liked not the judgment, a
quick glance from the prince's dark eyes sent him to the door with the
grievance all gone out of him. The younger ruler had sat listlessly upon
his stool with the two puppet monarchs enthroned behind him, but of a
sudden a dark shadow passed over his face, and he sprang to his feet in
one of those gusts of passion which were the single blot upon his noble
and generous character.

"How now, Don Martin de la Carra?" he cried. "How now, sirrah? What
message do you bring to us from our brother of Navarre?"

The new-comer to whom this abrupt query had been addressed was a tall
and exceedingly handsome cavalier who had just been ushered into the
apartment. His swarthy cheek and raven black hair spoke of the fiery
south, and he wore his long black cloak swathed across his chest and
over his shoulders in a graceful sweeping fashion, which was neither
English nor French. With stately steps and many profound bows, he
advanced to the foot of the dais before replying to the prince's
question.

"My powerful and illustrious master," he began, "Charles, King of
Navarre, Earl of Evreux, Count of Champagne, who also writeth himself
Overlord of Bearn, hereby sends his love and greetings to his dear
cousin Edward, the Prince of Wales, Governor of Aquitaine, Grand
Commander of----"

"Tush! tush! Don Martin!" interrupted the prince, who had been beating
the ground with his foot impatiently during this stately preamble. "We
already know our cousin's titles and style, and, certes, we know our
own. To the point, man, and at once. Are the passes open to us, or does
your master go back from his word pledged to me at Libourne no later
than last Michaelmas?"

"It would ill become my gracious master, sire, to go back from
promise given. He does but ask some delay and certain conditions and
hostages----"

"Conditions! Hostages! Is he speaking to the Prince of England, or is it
to the bourgeois provost of some half-captured town! Conditions, quotha?
He may find much to mend in his own condition ere long. The passes are,
then, closed to us?"

"Nay, sire----"

"They are open, then?"

"Nay, sire, if you would but----"

"Enough, enough, Don Martin," cried the prince. "It is a sorry sight to
see so true a knight pleading in so false a cause. We know the doings of
our cousin Charles. We know that whil