“At last, my good Paul, we are riding forth to try conclusions with the world, as we have purposed so long to do,” he said, with a strange, flashing smile.  “In faith I am glad that the hour of action is come.  Ere another sun is set some blow shall have been struck which shall set the crown of England upon some one head more firmly than ever it has been set before.  God grant the cause of right may triumph!  But whichever way the conflict goes, I pray that this distracted land may find peace and rest, and that I may be either a victor in the strife, or may find a soldier’s grave.  Paul, will you give me your promise, trusty comrade, that ere I fall alive into the hand of the foe, you will bury your knightly sword in my heart yourself?  It were the part of a true brother to save me from the fate of my patient father.  He has borne dethronement and captivity; but methinks I should pine and die, and I would far rather—­”

He gave Paul an expressive glance; but the young knight answered gravely and steadfastly: 

“My liege, ask me not that beyond my power to grant.  We may not without sin raise our hands against the Lord’s anointed, and I may not do the thing you ask.  Death or captivity I will gladly share with you, or spend every drop of my blood to save you; but more than this no loyal knight may promise.  Forgive me, my liege, if I offend in this.”

But Edward held out his mailed hand with his own bright, sweet smile, grasping that of Paul, which he held in his own as he spoke.

“You are in the right, Paul, you are in the right.  Perchance it were a coward thought; for should not a prince be ready for any blow of adverse fortune?  But ride you into the battle beside me.  Let us fight side by side, even as we have always hoped to do.  I would that you were in very truth my brother, as in love you have long been.  And if I fall whilst you escape, be it your office to break the tidings to my mother and my gentle Anne; for methinks, were it told them suddenly or untenderly, their hearts would break with the sorrow.”

Paul gave this pledge willingly, though it scarce seemed possible to him that he should live to carry such tidings, seeing he would die a thousand deaths to save his prince from the foeman’s steel.  And then, with grave faces but brave hearts and unclouded brows, the comrades rode side by side into the town of Tewkesbury, whilst the army intrenched itself on the summit of a small eminence called the Home Ground, not half a mile away.

Already the rival army was mustering, and the Yorkist troops occupied the sloping ground to the south, that went by the name of the Red Piece.  The Lancastrians had the best of the situation, as they were established amongst trenches and ditches, partly real and partly artificial; which would render any attack by the enemy difficult and dangerous.

“I trow it would be hard to drive from this ground these brave men thus posted,” said Edward to Paul, as the two rode round the camp at the close of the day.  “They have only to stand firm and hold their position, and all will be well.  Oh that the night were past, and that a new day had come!  I would I could see the end of this struggle.  I would the veil of the future might be for one moment lifted.”