“It shall be inquired into,” said the Prince.

“Nay, nay, my Lord,” said Fulk, “may I pray you of your royal goodness to press the matter no further.  He is still young, and it were a pity to cast dishonour on a name which has hitherto been honourable.  Since my young cousin is safe, I would desire no more, save to guard him from his future machinations.  For his brother’s sake, my Lord, I would plead with you.”

“Little did I think such things of him,” said the Prince, “when I laid knighthood on his shoulder in the battle-field of Navaretta; yet I remember even then old Chandos chid me for over-hastiness.  Poor old Chandos, he has a rough tongue, but a true heart!”

“And, under favour, I would say,” answered Clarenham, “that it might have been those early-won honours that turned the head of such a mere youth, so entirely without guidance, or rather, with the guidance of that dissolute Squire, who, I grieve to observe, still haunts his footsteps.  Knighthood, with nought to maintain it, is, in truth, a snare.”

“Well, I am weary of the subject,” said the Prince, leaning back in his chair.  “The boy is safe, and, as you say, Fulk, that is all that is of importance.  Call hither the troubadour that was in the hall at noon.  I would have your opinion of his lay,” he added, turning to his wife.

The indignation may be imagined with which Arthur listened to this conversation, as he stood on the spot to which Edward had signed to him to advance, when he presented him to the Princess.  He longed ardently to break in with an angry refutation of the slanders cast on his uncle, but he was too well trained in the rules of chivalry, to say nothing of the awful respect with which he regarded the Prince, to attempt to utter a word, and he could only edge himself as far away as was possible from Clarenham, and cast at him glances of angry reproach.

His uneasy movements were interpreted as signs of fatigue and impatience of restraint by one of the ladies, who was sitting at no great distance, a very beautiful and graceful maiden, the Lady Maude Holland, daughter to the Princess of Wales, by her first marriage; and she kindly held out her hand to him, saying, “Come hither, my pretty page.  You have not learnt to stand stiff and straight, like one of the supporters of a coat-of-arms.  Come hither, and let me lead you to company better suited to your years.”

Arthur came willingly, as there was no more to hear about his uncle; and besides, it was away from the hateful Clarenham.  She led him across the hall to a tall arched doorway, opening upon a wide and beautiful garden, filled with the plants and shrubs of the south of France, and sloping gently down to the broad expanse of the blue waves of the Garonne.  She looked round on all sides, and seeing no one, made a few steps forward on the greensward, then called aloud, “Thomas!” no answer, “Edward!  Harry of Lancaster!” but still her clear silvery voice was unheeded, until a servant came from some other part of the building, and, bowing, awaited her orders.  “Where are Lord Edward and the rest?” she asked.