dly at
the barons, who stood round, surprised and mute.

"Yes, my lords and sirs, see,--it is not the Earl of Warwick, next to
our royal brethren the nearest subject to the throne, who would desert
me in the day of peril!"

"Nor do we, sire," retorted Raoul de Fulke; "you wrong us before our
mighty comrade if you so misthink us. We will fight for the king, but
not for the queen's kindred; and this alone brings on us your anger."

"The gates shall be opened to ye. Go! Warwick and I are men enough for
the rabble yonder."

The earl's quick eye and profound experience of his time saw at once
the dissension and its causes. Nor, however generous, was he willing
to forego the present occasion for permanently destroying an influence
which he knew hostile to himself and hurtful to the realm. His was not
the generosity of a boy, but of a statesman. Accordingly, as Raoul de
Fulke ceased, he took up the word.

"My liege, we have yet an hour good ere the foe can reach the gates.
Your brother and mine accompany me. See, they enter! Please you, a few
minutes to confer with them; and suffer me, meanwhile, to reason with
these noble captains."

Edward paused; but before the open brow of the earl fled whatever
suspicion might have crossed the king's mind.

"Be it so, cousin; but remember this,--to councillors who can menace me
with desertion at such an hour, I concede nothing."

Turning hastily away, he met Clarence and the prelate midway in the
hall, threw his arm caressingly over his brother's shoulder, and, taking
the archbishop by the hand, walked with them towards the battlements.

"Well, my friends," said Warwick, "and what would you of the king?"

"The dismissal of all the Woodvilles, except the queen; the revocation
of the grants and land accorded to them, to the despoiling the ancient
noble; and, but for your presence, we had demanded your recall."

"And, failing these, what your resolve?"

"To depart, and leave Edward to his fate. These granted, we doubt little
but that the insurgents will disband. These not granted, we but waste
our lives against a multitude whose cause we must approve."

"The cause! But ye know not the real cause," answered Warwick. "I know
it; for the sons of the North are familiar to me, and their rising hath
deeper meaning than ye deem. What! have they not decoyed to their head
my kinsmen, the heirs of Latimer and Fitzhugh, and bold Coniers, whose
steel calque should have circled a wiser bra