exclaimed Pedro, while James of
Majorca, frightened at the stern countenance of their all-powerful
protector, plucked hard at the mantle of his brother exile.

"Have a care, cousin," he whispered; "for the sake of the Virgin have a
care, for you have angered him."

"Pshaw! fear not," the other answered in the same low tone. "If I miss
one stoop I will strike him on the next. Mark me else. Fair cousin," he
continued, turning to the prince, "these be rare men-at-arms and lusty
bowmen. It would be hard indeed to match them."

"They have Journeyed far, sire, but they have never yet found their
match."

"Nor ever will, I doubt not. I feel myself to be back upon my throne
when I look at them. But tell me, dear coz, what shall we do next,
when we have driven this bastard Henry from the kingdom which he hath
filched?"

"We shall then compel the King of Aragon to place our good friend and
brother James of Majorca upon the throne."

"Noble and generous prince!" cried the little monarch.

"That done," said King Pedro, glancing out of the corners of his eyes
at the young conqueror, "we shall unite the forces of England, of
Aquitaine, of Spain and of Majorca. It would be shame to us if we did
not do some great deed with such forces ready to our hand."

"You say truly, brother," cried the prince, his eyes kindling at the
thought. "Methinks that we could not do anything more pleasing to Our
Lady than to drive the heathen Moors out of the country."

"I am with you, Edward, as true as hilt to blade. But, by St. James!
we shall not let these Moors make mock at us from over the sea. We must
take ship and thrust them from Africa."

"By heaven, yes!" cried the prince. "And it is the dream of my heart
that our English pennons shall wave upon the Mount of Olives, and the
lions and lilies float over the holy city."

"And why not, dear coz? Your bowmen have cleared a path to Paris, and
why not to Jerusalem? Once there, your arms might rest."

"Nay, there is more to be done," cried the prince, carried away by the
ambitious dream. "There is still the city of Constantine to be taken,
and war to be waged against the Soldan of Damascus. And beyond him again
there is tribute to be levied from the Cham of Tartary and from the
kingdom of Cathay. Ha! John, what say you? Can we not go as far eastward
as Richard of the Lion Heart?"

"Old John will bide at home, sire," said the rugged soldier. "By my
soul! as long as I am seneschal of Aquit