hile tears flowed freely
from her gentle eyes. On hearing the harsh decision of her lord and
king, she could restrain herself no longer. With streaming eyes she cast
herself on her knees at his feet, and turned up to him her sweet,
imploring face.

"Gentle sir," she said, "since that day in which I passed over sea in
great peril, as you know, I have asked no favor from you. Now I pray and
beseech you with folded hands, in honor of the Son of the Virgin Mary,
and for the love which you bear me, that you will have mercy on these
poor men."

The king looked down upon her face, wet with tears, and stood silent for
a few minutes. At length he spoke.

"Ah, dame, I would you had been in some other place this day. You pray
so tenderly that I cannot refuse you. Though it is much against my will,
nevertheless take them, I give them to you to use as you will."

The queen, filled with joy at these words of grace and mercy, returned
glad thanks to the king, and bade those near her to take the halters
from the necks of the burgesses and clothe them. Then she saw that a
good dinner was set before them, and gave each of them six nobles,
afterwards directing that they should be taken in safety through the
English army and set at liberty.

Thus ended that memorable siege of Calais, with one of the most dramatic
incidents which history has to tell. For more than two centuries the
captured city remained in English hands, being theirs long after they
had lost all other possessions on the soil of France. At length, in
1558, in the reign of Queen Mary, it was taken by the French, greatly to
the chagrin of the queen, who is reported to have said, "When I die, you
will find the word _Calais_ written on my heart."

_THE BLACK PRINCE AT POITIERS._

Through the centre of France marched the Black Prince, with a small but
valiant army. Into the heart of that fair kingdom had he come, ravaging
the land as he went, leaving misery and destitution at every step, when
suddenly across his line of march there appeared an unlooked-for
obstacle. The plundering marches of the English had roused the French.
In hosts they had gathered round their king, marched in haste to
confront the advancing foe, and on the night of Saturday, September 17,
1356, the English found their line of retreat cut off by what seemed an
innumerable array of knights and men-at-arms, filling the whole country
in their front as far as eye could see, closing with a wall of