The moment that she saw her betrothed husband, no power on earth would have been strong enough to hold back the fair-faced page, under whose boyish dress a faithful woman’s heart was beating.  The disguised maiden sprang forward and sank at the feet of her supposed master, seizing his hand and covering it with kisses as she tenderly murmured his name.

Edward instantly recognized her—­Paul saw that at once; but the shock of the discovery steadied his nerves, as he realized the peril in which she had placed herself, and he looked round for one who might save her when he himself might be powerless to do so.  It was at that moment—­as the crowd stood speechless, touched and perplexed by the little scene, and reluctant to rough-handle so fair a boy, and one whose devotion was so bravely displayed—­that Paul took occasion to step forward and present himself before Edward.

A look of relief instantly crossed the prince’s face.

“I might have known that you would have been here—­ever nearest in the hour of deadliest peril.  Paul, whatever befalls me, take care of him.”  Low as the words were spoken, the prince dared not use the other pronoun.  “Keep him safe.  Take him to my mother; she will protect him from the menaced peril.”

“I will, my liege, I will,” said Paul; and it was he who raised the form of the trembling page, and together the three were pushed not ungently into the royal presence—­Sir Richard being a man of kindly nature, and having been touched by the devotion evinced by these two youths (as he supposed them) in braving the dangers of the camp in order to be with their prince when he was called upon to answer for his life before the offended monarch.

Edward was standing in his tent, surrounded by his nobles, brothers, and his wife’s kinsmen, as the young Plantagenet prince was brought before him.  Perhaps England hardly possessed a finer man than its present king, who was taller by the head than almost any of those who stood round him, his dress of mail adding to the dignity of his mien, and his handsome but deeply-lined features, now set in stern displeasure, showing at once the indications of an unusual beauty and a proud and relentless nature.

The youthful Edward was brought a few paces forward by the attendants; whilst Paul stood in the background, longing to be beside his prince, but obliged to support the trembling form of Anne, who had been his liege’s last charge to him.

“Is this the stripling they falsely call the Prince of Wales?” quoth Edward, stepping one pace nearer and regarding the noble lad with haughty displeasure.  “How dost thou dare to come thus presumptuously to my realms with banners displayed against me?”

“To recover my father’s kingdom and mine own inheritance,” was the bold but unhesitating answer of the kingly youth, who, fettered and prisoner as he was, had all the fearless Plantagenet blood running in his veins.