here at first tidings of defeat.

Silently, and as in a dream, the horsemen passed along, and at last
drew rein at the door of the little church, where stood a priest
with the Host in his hand, ready, if need be, to stand betwixt the
helpless victims of the battle and their fierce pursuers.

He knew Paul's face, he recognized that of the inanimate form he
carried in his arms, and he made way for him to pass with a mute
sign of blessing.

Paul passed in. There beside the altar he saw the queen, bowed down
by the magnitude of her woe, for she had just heard the first
rumour of that terrible tragedy.

As he approached someone spoke to her, and she turned, rose, and
came swiftly forward.

"Paul," she said, "Paul--tell me--is it true?"

Paul looked at her with dim eyes.

"I have brought you his wife," he said. "It was his last charge.
Now I am going back. They have killed him; let them kill me, too."

He placed his helpless burden in the queen's arms, turned, and made
a few uncertain steps, and then fell down helplessly. He had
fulfilled his life's purpose in living for the prince; but it was
not given to him to die uselessly for him, too.

Chapter 10: The Prince Avenged.

Paul Stukely lived to see the foul crime that stained the victor's
laurels on the field of Tewkesbury amply avenged upon the House of
York in the days that quickly followed.

He himself was carried away by his faithful men-at-arms, who saw
that their cause was finally lost; and when, many weeks later, the
raging fever which held him in its grasp abated, and he knew once
more the faces of those about him, and could ask what had befallen
him, he found that he had been carried away to his own small manor,
bestowed upon him by the great Earl of Warwick--which manor,
perhaps from its very obscurity and his own, was left quietly in
his hands; for its late owner had fallen upon the field of
Tewkesbury, and no claim was ever made which disturbed Paul from
peaceful possession.

When he recovered his senses it was to hear that not only the
prince was dead, but his royal father also; that the queen, as
Margaret was still called by him, had returned to France; and that
the cause of the Red Rose was hopelessly extinguished. So Paul,
with the hopefulness which is the prerogative of youth, recovered
by degrees from the depression of spirit that the memory of the
tragedy of Tewkesbury cast over him, and learned by degrees to take
a healthy interest