“Moreover, my daughter was born at Sudbury,” said the Duke of York.

And of Maudelain’s face I cannot tell you.  He made pretence to read the paper carefully, but his eyes roved, and he knew that he stood among wolves.  The room was oddly shaped, with eight equal sides:  the ceiling was of a light and brilliant blue, powdered with many golden stars, and the walls were hung with smart tapestries which commemorated the exploits of Theseus.  “Then I am King,” this Maudelain said aloud, “of France and England, and Lord of Ireland, and Duke of Aquitaine!  I perceive that Heaven loves a jest.”  He wheeled upon Gloucester and spoke with singular irrelevance, “And what is to be done with the present Queen?”

Again the Duke shrugged.  “I had not thought of the dumb wench.  We have many convents.”

Now Maudelain twisted the paper between his long, wet fingers and appeared to meditate.

“It would be advisable, your Grace,” observed the Earl of Derby, suavely, and breaking his silence for the first time, “that you yourself should wed Dame Anne, once the Apostolic See has granted the necessary dispensation.  Treading too close upon the fighting requisite to bring about the dethronement and death of our nominal lord the so-called King, a war with Bohemia, which would be only too apt to follow this noble lady’s assassination, would be highly inconvenient, and, lacking that, we would have to pay back her dowry.”

Then these three princes rose and knelt before the priest; they were clad in long bright garments, and they glittered with gold and many jewels.  He standing among them shuddered in his sombre robe.  “Hail, King of England!” cried these three.

“Hail, ye that are my kinsmen!” he answered; “hail, ye that spring of an accursed race, as I!  And woe to England for that hour wherein Manuel of Poictesme held traffic with the Sorceress of Provence, and the devil’s son begot an heir for England!  Of ice and of lust and of hell-fire are all we sprung; old records attest it; and fickle and cold and ravenous and without shame are all our race until the end.  Of your brother’s dishonor ye make merchandise to-day, and to-day fratricide whispers me, and leers, and, Heaven help me!  I attend.  O God of Gods! wilt Thou dare bid a man live stainless, having aforetime filled his veins with such a venom?  Then haro, will I cry from Thy deepest hell....  Oh, now let the adulterous Redeemer of Poictesme rejoice in his tall fires, to note that his descendants know of what wood to make a crutch!  You are very wise, my kinsmen.  Take your measures, messieurs who are my kinsmen!  Though were I of any other race, with what expedition would I now kill you, I that recognize within me the strength to do it!  Then would I slay you! without any animosity, would I slay you then, just as I would kill as many splendid snakes!”

He went away, laughing horribly.  Gloucester drummed upon the table, his brows contracted.  But the lean Duke said nothing; big York seemed to drowse; and Henry of Derby smiled as he sounded a gong for that scribe who would draw up the necessary letters.  The Earl’s time was not yet come, but it was nearing.