the Lady Edith--"

"Ha!" said the king, "what was she to do with this matter?"

"My lord," said the Scot, "there is a scheme on foot to disgrace your
royal lineage, by bestowing the hand of the Lady Edith on the Saracen
Soldan, and thereby to purchase a peace most dishonourable to
Christendom."

The mention of his relative's name renewed the King's recollection of
what he had considered extreme presumption in the Knight of the Leopard,
even while he stood high on the rolls of chivalry, and now appeared to
drive the fiery monarch into a frenzy of passion.

"Silence," he said, "infamous and audacious. By heaven, I will have thy
tongue torn out with hot pincers for mentioning the very name of a noble
damsel! With lips blistered with the confession of thine own
dishonour--that thou shouldest now dare--name her not--for an instant
think not of her."

"Not name--not think of her?" answered Sir Kenneth. "Now by the cross on
which I place my hope, her name shall be the last word in my mouth. Try
thy boasted strength on this bare brow, and see if thou canst prevent my
purpose."

"He will drive me mad," said Richard, once more staggered by the
dauntless determination of the criminal.

A bustle was heard and the arrival of the queen was announced.

"Detain her, Neville," cried the king. "Away with him, De Vaux; let him
have a ghostly father--and, hark thee, we will not have him dishonoured;
he shall die knight-like in his belt and spurs."

The entrance of Queen Berengaria was withstood by the chamberlain, and
she could hear the stern commands of the king from within to the
executioner. Edith could no longer remain silent:

"_I_ will make entrance for your grace," she said, putting aside the
chamberlain.

On their sudden entrance Richard flung himself hastily aside, turning
his back to them as if displeased.

"Thou seest, Edith," whispered the queen, "we shall but incense him."

"Be it so," said Edith, stepping forward. "I--your poor kinswoman, crave
you for justice rather than mercy, and to that cry the ear of a monarch
should be ever open."

"Ha! our cousin Edith!" said Richard, rising. "She speaks ever
king-like, and king-like I will answer her."

"My lord," she said, "this good knight whose blood you are about to
spill hath fallen from his duty through a snare set for him in idleness
and folly. A message sent to him in the name of one--why should I not
speak it?--it was in my own--induced him to leave his pos