young knight's progenitors, Lord Stanley, it doth please us to make of thee our single confidant. This noble is in truth the son of the Duke of Clarence​—​the good Duke, who came to his untimely end at the gentle hands of our esteemed father-in-law. Thou dost remember well that he was attainted of high treason, and that we took measures accordingly to have his issue pronounced illegitimate. 'Twas done, as thou canst see, to guard against such a contingency as hath now arisen. But to my tale. Sir Richard, when but a suckling infant, was carried secretly to Brittany, and enjoyed there, with me, the powerful protection of Duke Francis. Why the die of England's sovereignty was cast in my favor, I know not. God wot, Stanley, I wish that it had not been! Now, my lord, attend our every word. The weak stripling, whom base Richard the Third believed to be the true Earl of Warwick hath, under our command, for long been immured within the tower. It is perhaps the better part of wisdom that we should lesson thee that an exchange of infants was many years ago covertly effected by one Dame Tyrrell, wife of Sir James Tyrrell, the same who was bribed by Richard to strangle his two nephews, the boy dukes remaining betwixt himself and the throne. Within a fortnight, Stanley, do thou undertake to have the news of the death of this changeling early published over all our kingdom. 'Twere the more seemly, mayhap, and it appeared to have transpired through natural causes. A return of the sweating sickness, or some like subterfuge."

"And the young knight, Rohan; what of him, most mighty liege?"

"Him, we would have thee to know," said Henry, "we love and trust above any man, saving thyself, in all the length and breadth of England.

"Aye, marry, but​—​—"

"Hold! have patience, my lord, and attend me. We know well what thou wouldst say. Him, too, must we sacrifice for the sake of the peace and safety of a people who love us but little. Do thou this very hour issue warrant under the Great Seal and give it into Sir Richard's hands to be delivered by him upon Douglas, in Castle Yewe, in Scotland. Lay royal command upon Douglas that his courtiers shall engage the young knight in quarrel and honorable conflict to the end that he return not again into England."

"By the rood, august highness! wouldst make him the bearer of his own warrant of death? 'Tis a parlous risky business."

"Yea, my lord. But a risk that we are happy to assume out of a spirit of fair play, and as a mark of our highest confidence. And know, too, Stanley," Henry said, smiling shrewdly, "'twill rid us of many a Scottish enemy. The young man battles tremendously well. And, more in favor of this plan, 'twould be the death of Sir Richard's own choosing, mark you."

"Aye, marry, doth he fight well. I can see many a Scot's midriff lying open to his couched lance or drawn sword. My liege, shall I deliver warrant here?"

"Here, and now. Let Oxford and de Vere be witnesses of its delivery. Though, we charge thee solemnly, hint not to either of its purport. On yonder table thou wilt find parchment. Take point in hand and write. Send Ralston to me when thou hast done. The Queen doth await our presence within the Hall of Windows."

For an hour or more after the King had gone, the eagle's quill within Lord Stanley's fingers moved slowly back and forth across the sheet of parchment. When he had finished with the body of the document and signed his name he lifted his head and looked keenly, furtively about the room. Arising, he moved swiftly from curtain to curtain. Lifting each, he peered hastily beneath its heavy folds. Whereupon, satisfied that he was alone, and resuming his seat at the table, he spread before him another sheet of parchment and proceeded to copy, word for word, that which he had written upon the first.

So intently did he engage himself upon this task that he failed to notice the silent parting of a draped entrance, or the King's catlike tread upon the thick pile of the carpet as he moved stealthily across the floor. A long hand, very slender and very much be jeweled, moving across the table before him and taking up the original document, gave Stanley his first hint of his sovereign's presence.

Without a moment's hesitation, and not the slightest quivering of an eyebrow, Lord Stanley arose and bowed low before Henry. He met the look of stern inquiry on the King's face with a quiet smile.

"I crave thy pardon, liege, on the behalf of my sluggish fingers. Fitter are they to wield sword in thy cause than pen."

"So it would seem. What meaneth this second transcript, my lord of Stanley?"

"I bethought me that it would be well," replied Stanley upon the instant, "because of the grave importance of the document, to issue it in duplicate. The one to give the young knight safe conduct to his journey's end, the other to secrete within the lining of his cloak or doublet."

"'Tis a most excellent thought, by my faith!" exclaimed the King, the black cloud passing from his brow. "Command Oxford, de Vere, and Sir Richard to our presence. We would have done with the business, and with all speed dispatch the young knight upon his travels."

CHAPTER II
ON THE WAY TO CASTLE YEWE

The ceremony attending the departure of Sir Richard upon his singular errand was quickly over; and well within the limits of that day the massive pile of ivy-grown walls, crenelated towers and copper-tipped turrets of Kenilworth Castle had dipped beneath the undulating masses of autumn tinted foliage behind the young knight and John Belwiggar, whom the King had nominated to be Sir Richard's squire and attendant.

Within Henry's mind the expedient of dispatching the young knight as bearer of his own death warrant had been conceived in a spirit of absurd bravado. So far as his calculating and selfish character permitted, he was fond of him. But if he suffered a regret, it was wholly personal, and because of circumstances that had compelled him to part from one in whose companionship he had derived a great deal of pleasure. In respect of any feeling of genuine sorrow, the entire scene enacted between himself and Stanley had been a complete farce. Though he had invested that doughty warrior with many and distinguished honors and great power, he had never entertained on the behalf of his chief official that feeling of confidence so essential to the complaisance of mind of any ruler. It was his intention to set before that individual an example of integrity and devotion that the King fancied would be well worthy of emulation. As an additional safeguard, however, he caused secret spies of his own selection to be dispatched in the train of Sir Richard. In adopting this course he believed himself to be keeping the situation well in hand; at once guarding against any interruption of the final delivery of the unusual warrant, and providing him with the means of testing Lord Stanley's devotion to his cause.

Thus, had not Sir Richard taken it into his head to follow an itinerary entirely different from either the one suggested by Henry, or that secretly transmitted to him beside the portcullis by Lord Stanley, some state problems of vast magniture and importance might then have been solved. As it subsequently transpired, all along and between the roads that it was definitely supposed the young knight and his squire would make their pilgrimage, King's emissaries were constantly meeting and receiving entertainment of Stanley's lieutenants, as