The Last Of The Barons, Volume 9.

message from the artful Louis, had repaired to the

induced him hitherto to refrain from openly espousing the cause of the Lancastrians, though it did not prevent his abetting such seditions and intrigues as could confine the attention of the martial Plantagenet to the perils of his own realm. But now that the breach between Warwick and the king had taken place; now that the earl could no longer curb the desire of the Yorkist monarch to advance his hereditary claims to the fairest provinces of France,- nay, peradventure, to France itself,-while the defection of Lord Warwick gave to the Lancastrians the first fair hope of success in urging their

lf to the only alternative before him, save that, indeed, of powerless sense of wrong and obscure and lasting exile. The French king looked

th joy the summons of Louis, repaired to the court, was presented to Anne as the Count de F--, found himself recognized at the first glance (for his portrait still lay upon her heart, as his remembrance in its core), and, twice before the song we have recited, had ventured, agreeably to the sweet customs of Anjou, to address the lady of his love under the shade of the starlit summer copses. But on this l

argaret, announcing her departure from the castle of Verdun for Tours, where she prayed him to meet her forthwith, and stating that she had recei

ed, in the presence and passion of the young prince. He sought him at once; he found him in a

where and when I bid thee, I promise that before the month ends Lord Warwick shall pledge thee his daughter's

badour took the co

w risen; the light, though serene, was pale and dim. The two men-the one advancing, the other motionless-gazed on each other in grave silence. As Count de F--, amidst the young nobles in the king's train, the earl had scarcely noticed the heir of England. He vi

ith the dignity that commands in peace, and the sinew

ty may love the lute, but should wield the sword. At least, so methinks had th

ion, "O noble earl! since thou knowest me; since my secret is told; since, in that secret, I have proclaimed a hope as dear to me as a crown and dearer far than life, can I

f blood and wrong-the sad deeds and wrathful words of party feud and civil war-between thy royal mother and myself; and though we may unite now against a comm

ust forget that thou hast been her foe; and if I, as my father's heir, return to England, it is in the trust that a new era will commence. Free from the

ce, it rests with you to bury forever in one grave the feuds of Lancaster and York! What Yorkist who hath fought at Towton or St. Albans under Lord Warwick's standard, will lift sword against the husband of Lord Warwick's daughter? What Lancastrian will not forgive a Yorkist, when Lord Warwick, the kinsman of Duke Richard, becomes father to the Lancastrian heir,

o had forgotten himself in the lover; the hand which he caught he lifted to his lips, and the next moment, i