The noble countenance of Prince Charles is stamped with the same gravity, and slightly touched with the same melancholy, which distinguished his features through life, but which naturally deepened as misfortune fell upon him.  But as those dark days cannot now be discerned, and, as all seems brilliant around him, and full of brightest promise, this prophetic melancholy is thought to lend interest to his handsome features.  He is attired in a suit of black armour of exquisite workmanship, lacking only the helmet, which is carried by a page—­as are the volante piece, the mentonniere, and the grande-garde, intended to be worn in the field.  On seeing Sir Jocelyn, he pauses, and signs to his attendants to stand back.

“I have sent for you, Sir Jocelyn,” he said, “to ascertain whether it is true that Sir Giles Mompesson is amongst the Duke of Lennox’s party.”

“It is perfectly true, your highness,” replied Sir Jocelyn; “he is now in the court-yard.”

A shade of displeasure crossed the Prince’s noble countenance, and his brow darkened.

“I am sorry to hear it; and but that I should grievously offend the King, my father, I would forbid him to take part in the jousts,” he cried.  “Sir Giles deserves to be degraded from knighthood, rather than enjoy any of its honourable privileges.”

“Entertaining these sentiments, if your highness will make them known to the King, he will doubtless order Sir Giles’s immediate withdrawal from the lists,” said Sir Jocelyn.  “Most assuredly he is unworthy to enter them.”

“Not so,” rejoined the Prince.  “I have already represented the matter to his Majesty, and trusted my remonstrances would be attended to.  But I find they have proved ineffectual.  Buckingham, it appears, has more weight than I have.  Yet this notorious extortioner’s insolence and presumption ought not to pass unpunished.”

“They shall not, your highness,” replied Sir Jocelyn.  “I will so deal with him that I will warrant he will never dare show himself within the precincts of the palace again.”

“Do nothing rashly,” said the Prince.  “You must not disguise from yourself that you may displease the King, and provoke Buckingham’s animosity.”

“I cannot help it,” returned Sir Jocelyn.  “I will insult him, if he crosses my path.”

“I cannot blame you,” said the Prince.  “In your position I should do the same; and I am only restrained by the injunctions laid upon me by the King, from commanding his instant departure.  But I must proceed towards the tilt-yard.  We shall meet again anon.”

With this he descended the staircase; and as soon as his train of gentlemen-ushers and pages had passed on, Sir Jocelyn followed, and making his way through the still-crowded vestibule, gained the door, and vaulted on the back of his steed.

CHAPTER X.

The old Palace-Yard of Westminster.