obliged, in order to obtain his liberty, to pay his father-in-law a tough ransom.  It was not long before Guy himself suffered from the same sort of iniquitous surprise that he had practised upon his sons-in-law.  In 1293 he was secretly negotiating the marriage of Philippa, one of his daughters, with Prince Edward, eldest son of the King of England.  Philip the Handsome, having received due warning, invited the Count of Flanders to Paris, “to take counsel with him and the other barons touching the state of the king-dom.”  At first Guy hesitated; but he dared not refuse, and he repaired to Paris, with his sons John and Guy.  As soon as he arrived he bashfully announced to the king the approaching union of his daughter with the English prince, protesting, “that he would never cease, for all that, to serve him loyally, as every good and true man should serve his lord.”  “In God’s name, Sir Count,” said the enraged king, “this thing will never do; you have made alliance with my foe, without my wit; wherefore you shall abide with me;” and he had him, together with his sons, marched off at once to the tower of the Louvre, where Guy remained for six months, and did not then get out save by leaving as hostage to the King of France his daughter Philippa herself, who was destined to pass in this prison her young and mournful life.  On once more entering Flanders, Count Guy oscillated for two years between the King of France and the King of England, submitting to the exactions of the former, at the same time that he was privily renewing his attempts to form an intimate alliance with the latter.  Driven to extremity by the haughty severity of Philip, he at last came to a decision, concluded a formal treaty with Edward I., affianced to the English crown-prince the most youthful of his daughters, Isabel of Flanders, youngest sister of Philippa, the prisoner in the tower of the Louvre, and charged two ambassadors to go to Paris, as the bearers of the following declaration:  “Every one doth know in how many ways the King of France hath misbehaved towards God and justice.  Such is his might and his pride, that he doth acknowledge nought above himself, and he hath brought us to the necessity of seeking allies who may be able to defend and protect us. . . .  By reason whereof we do charge our ambassadors to declare and say, for us and from us, to the above said king, that because of his misdeeds and defaults of justice, we hold ourselves unbound, absolved, and delivered from all bonds, all alliances, obligations, conventions, subjections, services, and dues whereby we may have been bounden towards him.”

[Illustration:  THE TOWN AND FORTRESS OF LILLE——­164]