and ever send me comfortable
tidings of you. Written at York, in the Castle, on Saint Gregory's day
last past, by your own poor_

"_PHILIPPA._

"_To my true lord._"

"H'm!" said the King; "and now give me the entire story."

John Copeland obeyed. I must tell you that early in the narrative King
Edward arose and, with a sob, strode toward a window. "Catherine!" he
said. He remained motionless what time Master Copeland went on without
any manifest emotion. When he had ended, King Edward said, "And where
is Madame de Salisbury now?"

At this the Brabanter went mad. As a leopard springs he leaped upon
the King, and grasping him by either shoulder, shook that monarch as
one punishing a child.

"Now by the splendor of God--!" King Edward began, very terrible in his
wrath. He saw that John Copeland held a dagger to his breast, and
shrugged. "Well, my man, you perceive I am defenceless. Therefore
make an end, you dog."

"First you will hear me out," John Copeland said.

"It would appear," the King retorted, "that I have little choice."

At this time John Copeland began: "Sire, you are the greatest monarch
our race has known. England is yours, France is yours, conquered
Scotland lies prostrate at your feet. To-day there is no other man in
all the world who possesses a tithe of your glory; yet twenty years ago
Madame Philippa first beheld you and loved you, an outcast, an exiled,
empty-pocketed prince. Twenty years ago the love of Madame Philippa,
great Count William's daughter, got for you the armament wherewith
England was regained. Twenty years ago but for Madame Philippa you had
died naked in some ditch."

"Go on," the King said presently.

"And afterward you took a fancy to reign in France. You learned then
that we Brabanters are a frugal people: Madame Philippa was wealthy
when she married you, and twenty years had but quadrupled her fortune.
She gave you every penny of it that you might fit out this expedition;
now her very crown is in pawn at Ghent. In fine, the love of Madame
Philippa gave you France as lightly as one might bestow a toy upon a
child who whined for it."

The King fiercely said, "Go on."

"Eh, sire, I intend to. You left England undefended that you might
posture a little in the eyes of Europe. And meanwhile a woman
preserves England, a woman gives you all Scotland as a gift, and in
return demands nothing--God ha' mercy on us!--save that you nightly
chafe your feet with