ist or cry out the poor
lads were stifled beneath their own bedclothes, and so perished.

Then these two murderers called to Tyrrel to enter and look on their
work, and bear witness that the king's command had been faithfully
executed.

The cup of Richard's wickedness was now full. He concealed for some
time the fate of his two victims, and few people knew what had become of
their rightful king and his brother. But the vengeance of Heaven fell
on the cruel uncle speedily and terribly. His own favourite son died,
his family turned against him, his people rebelled: the kingdom so
evilly gained was taken from him, and he himself, after months of
remorse, and fear, and gathering misfortunes, was slain in battle,
lamented by none, and hated by all.

Two centuries later, in the reign of King Charles the Second, some
workmen, digging in the Tower, discovered under the stairs leading to
the chapel of the White Tower a box containing the bones of two
children, corresponding to the ages of the murdered princes. These were
found to be without doubt their remains, and in a quiet comer of
Westminster Abbey, whither they were removed, a simple memorial now
marks their last resting-place, and records the fact of their cruel
murder by perhaps the worst king who ever sat upon the throne of
England.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

EDWARD OF LANCASTER, THE BOY WHOSE LIFE A ROBBER SAVED.

A terrible scene might have been witnessed near the small town of
Hexham, in Northumberland, one May afternoon in the year 1464. A great
battle had just been fought and won. Civil war, with all its hideous
accompaniments, had laid desolate those fair fields where once cattle
were wont to browse and peasants to follow their peaceful toil. But now
all was confusion and tumult. On the ground in heaps lay men and
horses, dead and dying--the vanquished were crying for mercy, the
victors were shouting for vengeance. The country for miles round was
alive with fugitives and their pursuers. Women, children, and old men,
as well as soldiers, joined in that panic flight; and shrieks, and
shouts, and groans told only too plainly of the slaughter and terror of
the pursuit. To slaughter the victors added robbery and outrage. Far
and wide they scoured the country in quest of victims and booty; houses
were burned, villages were desolated, fields were laid bare, nor till
night mercifully fell over the land did that scene of terror end. War
is indeed a ter