s
against his person justice must condemn; but a woman, a sad and grieving
woman--but do not weep thus, my gentle wife," he added, tenderly.

"Can a daughter of Edward do other than weep, my husband? Oh, if I loved
him not, if my very spirit did not cling round him so closely that the
fibres of both seem entwined, and his deeds of wrath, of exacting
justice, fall on me as if I had done them, and overwhelm me with their
shame, their remorse, then indeed I might not weep; but as it is, do not
chide me, Gilbert, for weep I must."

"Thou art too noble-hearted, Joan," he said, kindly, as he circled her
waist with his arm, "only too noble-hearted for these fearful times.
'Tis but too sad a proof of the change in thy royal father, that he
shuns thy presence now even as he once loved it."

A confusion in the passage and ante-room disturbed their converse, and
Gloucester turned towards the door to inquire the cause.

"Tis but a troublesome boy, demanding access to her highness the
countess, my lord," was the reply. "I have asked his name and business,
questions he deigns not, forsooth, to answer, and looks so wild and
distracted, that I scarce think it accords with my duty to afford him
admittance. He is no fit recipient of my lady's bounty, good my lord;
trust me, he will but fright her."

"I have no such fear, my good Baldwin," said the princess, as, on
hearing her name, she came forward to the centre of the chamber; "thou
knowest my presence is granted to all who seek it, an this poor child
seems so wild, he is the fitter object of my care. They are using
violence methinks; give him entrance instantly."

The attendant departed, and returned in a very brief space, followed by
a lad, whose torn and muddy garments, haggard features, and dishevelled
hair indeed verified the description given. He glanced wildly round him
a moment, and then flinging himself at the feet of the princess, clasped
her robe and struggled to say something, of which the words "mercy,
protection," were alone audible.

"Mercy, my poor child! what mercy dost thou crave? Protection I may give
thee, but how may I show thee mercy?"

"Grant me but a few moments, lady, let me but speak with thee alone. I
bear a message which I may not deliver to other ears save thine," said
or rather gasped the boy, for he breathed with difficulty, either from
exhaustion or emotion.

"Alone!" replied the countess, somewhat surprised. "Leave us, Baldwin,"
she added, aft