sh of rage alternated.

"And now, away with the traitor, away with the recreant Knight! out
upon him!" cried in a loud voice Sir John Chandos, while the shout was
taken up by a deafening multitude of voices--in the midst of which the
degraded Knight and landless Baron made his way to the gate, and, as he
passed out, a redoubled storm of shouts and yells arose from without.

"Out upon the traitor!" cried Harry of Lancaster with the loudest.
"Away with him! But, Edward, and you too, Arthur, why shout you not?
Hate you not traitors and treason?"

"I would not join my voice with the rabble," said Edward, "and it makes
me sad to see knighthood fallen. What say you, Arthur?"

"Alas! he is my mother's kinsman," said Arthur, "and I loved his name
for her sake as for that of Agnes too. Where is Agnes?"

"In the Convent of the Benedictine nuns," said Edward. "But in your
ear, Arthur, what say you to our plan that she shall be heiress of her
brother's lands, on condition of her wedding--guess whom?"

"Not mine uncle! Oh, Lord Edward, is it really so? How rejoiced old
Ralph would be!"

"Speak not of it, Arthur--it was my mother who told me, when Agnes
craved permission to go to the Convent, and I feared she would become
one of those black-veiled nuns, and I should never see her more."

"Where is my uncle?" asked Arthur, gazing round. "I thought he was
standing by the Lady Princess's chair--"

"He went to speak to Sir John Chandos but now," said Prince Henry, "but
I see him not. Mark! what a lull in the sounds without!"

In fact, the various cries of execration which had assailed Fulk
Clarenham on his exit from the gates of the Castle, after sounding more
and more violent for some minutes, had suddenly died away almost into
stillness--and the cause was one little guessed at within the court.
The unhappy Fulk was moving onwards, almost as in a dream, without aim
or object, other than to seek a refuge from the thousand eyes that
marked his disgrace, and the tongues that upbraided him with it; but,
in leaving the court, he entered upon a scene where danger, as well as
disgrace, was to be apprehended. The rabble of the town, ever pleased
at the fall of one whose station was higher than their own, mindful of
unpaid debts, and harsh and scornful demeanour, and, as natives,
rejoiced at the misfortune of a foreigner, all joined in one cry
of--"Away with the recreant Englishman!--down with him!--down with
him!" Every hand