nd listening to the laughter that came in frequent peals from the royal
tent. Within feasted Edward, the Count de la Roche, the Lord Rivers;
while in a larger and more splendid pavilion at some little distance,
the queen, her mother, and the great dames of the court held their own
slighter and less noisy repast.

"And here, then," said Edward, as he put his lips to a gold goblet,
wrought with gems, and passed it to Anthony the Bastard,--"here, count,
we take the first wassail to the loves of Charolois and Margaret!"

The count drained the goblet, and the wine gave him new fire.

"And with those loves, king," said he, "we bind forever Burgundy and
England. Woe to France!"

"Ay, woe to France!" exclaimed Edward, his face lighting up with that
martial joy which it ever took at the thoughts of war,--"for we will
wrench her lands from this huckster Louis. By Heaven! I shall not rest
in peace till York hath regained what Lancaster hath lost! and out of
the parings of the realm which I will add to England thy brother of
Burgundy shall have eno' to change his duke's diadem for a king's. How
now, Rivers? Thou gloomest, father mine."

"My liege," said Rivers, wakening himself, "I did but think that if the
Earl of Warwick--"

"Ah, I had forgotten," interrupted Edward; "and, sooth to say, Count
Anthony, I think if the earl were by, he would not much mend our
boon-fellowship!"

"Yet a good subject," said De la Roche, sneeringly, "usually dresses his
face by that of his king."

"A subject! Ay, but Warwick is much such a subject to England as William
of Normandy or Duke Rollo was to France. Howbeit, let him come,--our
realm is at peace, we want no more his battle-axe; and in our new
designs on France, thy brother, bold count, is an ally that might
compensate for a greater loss than a sullen minister. Let him come!"

As the king spoke, there was heard gently upon the smooth turf the sound
of the hoofs of steeds. A moment more, and from the outskirts of the
scene of revel, where the king's guards were stationed, there arose a
long, loud shout. Nearer and nearer came the hoofs of the steeds; they
paused. Doubtless Richard of Gloucester by that shout! "The soldiers
love that brave boy," said the king.

Marmaduke Nevile, as gentleman in waiting, drew aside the curtain of
the pavilion; and as he uttered a name that paled the cheeks of all who
heard, the Earl of Warwick entered the royal presence.

The earl's dress was disordere