But Raoul Latimer, though a craven before the face of an armed foe, could be resolute enough when he had only an unprotected woman to deal with, and was quite disposed to show his valour by pressing his unwelcome salutations upon the cheek of the girl he regarded as his future wife.  His surprise at encountering Arthyn, whom he believed far away in her father’s castle, hastening alone down one of the long corridors of Carnarvon Castle, had been very great.  He could not imagine what had thus brought her, and was eager to claim from her the greeting he felt was his due.

But Arthyn had never lacked for spirit, and had always confessedly abhorred Raoul, nor had absence seemed to make the heart grow fonder, at least in her case.  She repulsed him with such hearty goodwill that his cowardly fury was aroused, and had not the girl cried aloud in her anger and fear, he might have done her some mischief.  But even as she lifted her voice a door in the corridor was flung open, and the king himself strode forth, not, as it chanced, in response to the call, which had not reached his ears, but upon an errand of his own.  Now when he saw that at the doors of his own private apartments one of his own gentlemen had dared to lay rude hands upon a woman, his kingly wrath was stirred, and one blow from his strong arm sent Raoul reeling across the corridor till the wall stopped his farther progress.

“How now, malapert boy?” cried Edward in deep displeasure.  “Is it thus you disgrace your manhood by falling upon the defenceless, and by brawling even within hearing of your sovereign?  You are not so wondrous valiant in battle, Raoul Latimer, that you can afford to blast the small reputation you have.

“Sweet lady, be not afraid; thy king will protect thee from farther insult.

“Ha, Arthyn, is it thou, my child?  Nay, kneel not in such humbly suppliant fashion; rise and kiss me, little one, for thou art only less dear to me than mine own children.  Come hither, maiden, and speak to me.  What has brought thee here alone and unannounced?  And what has raised this storm betwixt ye twain?”

“Sire —­ my king —­ hear me,” cried Arthyn in a choked voice; “and bid that wicked youth, whom I have ever hated, leave us.  Let me speak to you alone and in private.  It is to you, gracious lord, that I have come.  Grant me, I pray you, the boon of but a few words alone and in private.  I have somewhat to tell your grace —­ your royal pardon to ask.”

“Pardon? tush, maiden! thou canst not have offended greatly.  But come hither; what thou hast to say thou shalt say before the queen and Eleanor.  They have ever been as mother and sister to thee.  Thou hast no secrets for me which they may not hear?”

“Ah no; I would gladly speak all before them,” answered Arthyn eagerly, knowing that in the gentle Eleanor of Castile and her daughter she would find the most sympathizing of friends.