“By my faith!” said the king, “she must be a foul-mouthed wench if Julian requires to be pressed to accept her on such fair conditions.”

“They love each other like lovers of the last age,” said the countess; “but the stout old knight likes not the roundheaded alliance.”

“Our royal word shall put that to rights,” said the king.  “Sir Geoffrey Peveril has not suffered hardship so often at our command that he will refuse our recommendation when it comes to make amends for all losses.”

The king did not speak without being fully aware of the ascendancy which he possessed over the spirit of the old Tory; and within four weeks afterwards the bells of Martindale-Moultrassie were ringing for the union of the two families, and the beacon-light of the castle blazed high over hill and dale.