ll welcome death rather than life
with you. When I am out of the way, you may work your will on your
daughter. Because I am your wife, my brother has twice saved you from
King Louis. You owe your domain and your life to me. I should sell my
life at a glorious price if my death purchased your ruin. Come,
my lord!"

The duke paused with his hand on his dagger; but he knew that his
wife's words were true, and he realized that his ruin would follow
quickly on the heels of her death.

"You complain that the world and your own family are against you, my
lord," said the duchess. "It is because you are a cruel tyrant abroad
and at home. It is because you are against the world and against those
whom you should protect and keep safe from evil. The fault is with you,
Charles of Burgundy. You have spoken the truth. The world hates you, and
this girl--the tenderest, most loving heart on earth--dreads you as her
most relentless enemy. If I were in your place, my lord, I would fall
upon my sword."

Beaten by his wife's just fury, this great war hero walked back to his
chair, and the duchess tenderly lifted Mary to the divan.

"He will not strike you, child," said Margaret. Then she fell to kissing
Yolanda passionately, and tears came to her relief.

Poor Yolanda buried her face in her mother's breast and tried to smother
her sobs. Charles sat mumbling blasphemous oaths. At the expiration of
half an hour, a page announced the Bishop of Cambrai and other
gentlemen. The duke signified that they were to be admitted; and when
the bishop entered the room, Charles, who was smarting from his late
defeat, spoke angrily:--

"By the good God, my Lord Bishop, you are slow! Does it require an hour
to write a missive of ten lines? If you are as slow in saving souls as
in writing letters, the world will go to hell before you can say
a mass."

"The wording was difficult, Your Grace," replied the bishop
obsequiously. "The Lord d'Hymbercourt said Your Grace wished the missive
to be written in English, which language my scrivener knows but
imperfectly. After it was written I received Your Lordship's
instructions to use the word 'now,' so I caused the letter to be
rewritten that I might comply with your wishes."

"Now" is a small word, but in this instance it was a great one for
Yolanda, as you shall soon learn.

"Cease explaining, my Lord Bishop, and read me the missive," said the
duke, sullenly.

The bishop unfolded the missive, which was