ee,
if thou canst, the king before he sleeps; say that this rising
in Lincolnshire is more than a riot,--it is the first burst of a
revolution! that I hold council here to-night, and every shire, ere
the morrow, shall have its appointed captain. I will see the king at
morning. Yet stay--gain sight of my child Anne; she will leave the court
to-morrow. I will come for her; bid her train be prepared; she and the
countess must away to Calais,--England again hath ceased to be a home
for women! What to do with this poor rebel?" muttered the earl, when
alone; "release him I cannot; slay him I will not. Hum, there is space
enough in these walls to inclose a captive."

CHAPTER VII. THE FEAR AND THE FLIGHT.

King Edward feasted high, and Sibyll sat in her father's chamber,--she
silent with thought of love, Adam silent in the toils of science. The
Eureka was well-nigh finished, rising from its ruins more perfect, more
elaborate, than before. Maiden and scholar, each seeming near to the
cherished goal,--one to love's genial altar, the other to fame's lonely
shrine.

Evening advanced, night began, night deepened. King Edward's feast was
over, but still in his perfumed chamber the wine sparkled in the golden
cup. It was announced to him that Sir Marmaduke Nevile, just arrived
from the earl's house, craved an audience. The king, pre-occupied in
deep revery, impatiently postponed it till the morrow.

"To-morrow," said the gentleman in attendance, "Sir Marmaduke bids me
say, fearful that the late hour would forbid his audience, that
Lord Warwick himself will visit your Grace. I fear, sire, that the
disturbances are great indeed, for the squires and gentlemen in Lady
Anne's train have orders to accompany her to Calais to-morrow."

"To-morrow, to-morrow!" repeated the king--"well, sir, you are
dismissed."

The Lady Anne (to whom Sibyll had previously communicated the king's
kindly consideration for Master Warner) had just seen Marmaduke, and
learned the new dangers that awaited the throne and the realm. The
Lancastrians were then openly in arms for the prince of her love, and
against her mighty father!

The Lady Anne sat a while, sorrowful and musing, and then, before yon
crucifix, the Lady Anne knelt in prayer. Sir Marmaduke Nevile descends
to the court below, and some three or four busy, curious gentlemen, not
yet a-bed, seize him by the arm, and pray him to say what storm is in
the wind.

The night deepened still. The