told him that his goal might yet be
reached before his strength deserted him. The fiery spirit of which
he again partook gave him temporary power. He scarce knew what he
wished to do, save that he must stand beside his prince when he was
brought to Edward's presence, and if harm befell him there, share
it with him, as he had shared his peril that fatal day.

"Save yourself, good Adam," he said to his servant when he was once
mounted; "I am going to follow the prince. But come not near the
enemy's lines yourself, lest mischief befall you."

And before the astonished servant could speak a word of
remonstrance, Paul had set spurs to his horse and had galloped off
in the direction of the enemy's camp.

Within the lines there was the confusion incident to a battle, and
no one heeded the battered rider, who, his helmet left behind and
his mail dinted and disfigured by the hard blows it had received,
had nothing about him to show to which army he belonged. Soldiers
were leaning on their swords and eagerly discussing the fortunes of
the day; and round and about Edward's royal tent a dense crowd had
gathered, out of curiosity, it was said--and Paul heard the
words--to see what manner of reception would be met at the
monarch's hands by the youthful Edward, called "Prince," who had
been brought into the lines by Sir Richard Crofts.

The proclamation respecting him was widely known throughout the
camp, and it was said on all hands that the life of the prince
would be safe; but whether he would share his father's captivity or
be banished the kingdom with his French mother were points no one
could answer.

And Paul rode silently and swiftly by, glad that no one heeded him
or challenged him to give an account of himself.

Dismounting at last as he reached the outskirts of the crowd, and
turning his horse loose to find its own master if it could, Paul
was about to push his way into the eager knot of spectators, when a
hand was laid upon his arm; and turning suddenly, he found himself
confronted by a delicate page boy, whose white face and dilated
eyes seemed to bespeak the extreme of emotion and distress. Before
he had time to speak or to ask a question, the page addressed him;
and as soon as the voice smote upon his ears Paul started and
turned even paler than he had been; for he had heard those musical
tones before, and in the fair page before him he recognized, to his
horror and dismay, the gentle Lady Anne--young Edward's