“You smile, but in truth it is so.  The nation might rally beneath the banner of such a prince; and the proud nobles of the rival king know it well, and could they get the prince into their own power, they know that victory is from that moment theirs.  Wherefore, Edward, if it be true that you are known, we must fly, and that instantly.  These lawless men will not quit the trail till they have run the quarry down, and delivered you dead or alive into the hands of the foe.  They know well the value of the prize, and they will not let it escape them.”

Edward felt the truth of these words.  Paul had been anxious and alarmed before, but never with the same cause.  He had always been fearful that the young prince might be recognized by some wayfarer, who might have chanced to see him in past days or at the French court; but he had never before made sure that this recognition had actually taken place, and the likeness between the supposed brothers, though more a likeness now in figure and colouring and expression than actually in feature, was as great a safeguard as could have been devised.

Moreover, not a rumour of any kind had come over from France reporting the escape or absence of the Prince of Wales, and it was far fetched to imagine that anybody would suspect the identity of the yellow-haired youth.  But the occurrences of this day, combined with Edward’s admission about the clasp, had roused Paul’s worst fears, and it did indeed seem as if there were some watch set upon their movements now.

He looked earnestly into the flushed face of the fair young prince, and then said thoughtfully: 

“Edward, I have a plan whereby I think you can escape this threatened danger.  Leave this house tonight—­at once, if the coast be clear—­and go as fast as your steed can take you to your royal father, and claim the protection of his state, and that of the earl your future father-in-law.  Tell all your story, and it will make of you the idol even of this wayward city of London.  All men will delight in the presence of the Prince of the Silver Swan; and methinks a happy end may be the result of the journey which seems like to end in peril and gloom.

“Good my lord, it is a joyous welcome you would receive.  It would rejoice the whole heart of the nation to have you back.”

Edward hesitated for a moment, but finally shook his head.

“Nay, Paul, I will not do that, though I grant the scheme has its attractions.  If what you say be true and my presence in this city is suspected, be sure that every alley to the palace is watched and guarded by foes who would find a speedy way of preventing my entrance there—­ay, or thine, were that tried.

“And over and above the danger, I am yearning to see the face of my sweet bride again, my gentle Anne, whom I have loved right well these many years, even whilst her father seemed our bitterest foe.  My return will be looked for ere the glad Christmas season, and if I am not missed before, I shall be then, and I would not that my good mother were kept long in anxiety as to what has befallen me.  I have been now four weeks absent.  I laid careful plans whereby a brief absence might not be discovered, but it is time I returned now.