“That is so,” Sir Baldwin said.  “But unhappily in England at present might makes right, and you may be sure that at King Richard’s death, be it when it may, Prince John will make a bold throw for the throne, and, aided as he will be by the pope and by Philip of France, methinks that his chances are better than those of the young prince.  A man’s power, in warlike times, is more than a boy’s.  He can intrigue and promise and threaten, while a boy must be in the hands of partisans.  I fear that Prince Arthur will have troubled times indeed before he mounts the throne of England.  Should Richard survive until he becomes of age to take the field himself and head armies, he may succeed, for all speak well of him as a boy of singular sweetness of disposition, while Prince John is detested by all save those who flatter and live by him.  But enough for the present of politics, Cuthbert; let us now to table.  It is long since we two feasted together; and, indeed, such meals as we took in the Holy Land could scarcely have been called feasts.  A boar’s head and a good roasted capon are worthy all the strange dishes that we had there.  I always misdoubted the meat, which seemed to me to smack in flavor of the Saracens, and I never could bring myself to inquire whence that strange food was obtained.  A stoup of English ale, too, is worth all the Cyprus wines, especially when the Cyprus wines are half-full of the sand of the desert.  Pah! it makes my throat dry to think of those horrible meals.  So you have brought Cnut and your four archers safely back with you?”

“Yes,” Cuthbert said, smiling.  “But they were, I can assure you, a heavy weight on me, in spite of their faithfulness and fidelity.  Their ignorance of the language brought most of my troubles upon me, and Cnut had something of the nature of a bull in him.  There are certain things which he cannot stomach, and when he seeth them he rageth like a wild beast, regardless altogether of safety or convenience.”

In the evening the two knights again talked over the course which Cuthbert should adopt.  The elder knight’s opinion was that his young friend had best formally claim the title by writing to the king-at-arms, and should also announce his return to Prince John, signing himself “Sir Cuthbert, Earl of Evesham;” but that, in the present state of things, it would be unwise for him to attempt to regain his position, should, as was certain to be the case, Prince John refuse to recognize him.

“You are very young yet,” Sir Baldwin said, “not eighteen, I think, and can afford to wait, at any rate, to see whether King Richard returns.  Should he come back, he will see all these wrongs are righted; and one of his first cares would assuredly be to cast this usurper out of his stolen dignities.  How old is the Lady Margaret?”

“She is fifteen,” Cuthbert said.  “She was three years younger than I.”