or the countess and the
Lady Anne; but others had sterner work before them than weeping
over past misfortunes, and as soon as the retreat of the royal
Lancastrian became generally known, many stanch adherents flocked
to tender their allegiance and promise fealty to the cause.

Foremost amongst these was the young Duke of Somerset, whose family
had ever been stanch to the Red Rose, as well it might. Some of the
unpopularity Margaret of Anjou had early won for herself at the
English court was due to her confidence in and affection for
Somerset, and his son might well be ardent in her cause.

Margaret herself was still sunk in unwonted depression, but the
representations of the fiery young duke did much to give her heart.
With him came Jasper Tudor, the king's half brother, and they drew
glowing pictures of the loyalty of the western counties; and of
Wales, where a large band of troops was mustering for her support;
and represented that if she could but effect a junction with them,
the whole country would soon be hers, and she would be able to
dictate terms to the enemy at the gates of London.

Margaret's elastic temper rose with the encouragement thus
received, and Edward's heart beat high with hope. The party began
their westward march, and through the bright days of April and May
they rode through the smiling land, receiving welcome and adulation
from all, and reinforcements to their little band from every town
through which they passed. Small wonder was it that they learned to
feel confident of ultimate success. The young prince, with Paul at
his side, would ride through the ranks of his followers day by day,
speaking bright, brave words to all he passed, and winning the
hearts of his troops as perhaps only the young and frank-hearted
and unspoiled can do. To him it seemed almost more like a triumphal
progress than a recruiting march.

But Margaret's brow was often dark with anxiety. She knew the
temper of the bold Edward of York, as she called him, whom the
world still spoke of as king; and she knew that he would be upon
their track. Any day they might see his banners threatening their
rear, and still the Welsh army was at some distance; and until a
junction could be effected, even their lives could scarce be called
safe.

Then at Gloucester a serious check met them. The place was held for
the king's brother, and the gates were resolutely closed against
her. It was here that she had reckoned upon crossing the d