lies before me. Why didst thou not keep a still tongue in thy head and let

his patron saint look after the welfare of this princeling ? Your rashness

has brought you to a pretty pass, for it must be either you or I, My Lady,

and it cannot be I. Say thy prayers and compose thyself for death."

Henry III, King of England, sat in his council chamber surrounded by the

great lords and nobles who composed his suit. He awaited Simon de

Montfort, Earl of Leicester, whom he had summoned that he might heap still

further indignities upon him with the intention of degrading and

humiliating him that he might leave England forever. The King feared this

mighty kinsman who so boldly advised him against the weak follies which

were bringing his kingdom to a condition of revolution.

What the outcome of this audience would have been none may say, for

Leicester had but just entered and saluted his sovereign when there came an

interruption which drowned the petty wrangles of king and courtier in a

common affliction that touched the hearts of all.

There was a commotion at one side of the room, the arras parted, and

Eleanor, Queen of England, staggered toward the throne, tears streaming

down her pale cheeks.

"Oh, My Lord ! My Lord !' she cried, "Richard, our son, has been

assassinated and thrown into the Thames."

In an instant, all was confusion and turmoil, and it was with the greatest

difficulty that the King finally obtained a coherent statement from his

queen.

It seemed that when the Lady Maud had not returned to the palace with

Prince Richard at the proper time, the Queen had been notified and an

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