eir to the royal crown of England.

The astute young man lost no time in accepting the invitation. Charles
received him with as much honor as though he were indeed a king,
appointed him a body-guard, and spread far and wide the statement that
the Duke of York, the rightful heir of the English crown, was at his
court, and that he would sustain his claim. What might have come of
this, had the war continued, we cannot say. A number of noble
Englishmen, friends of York, made their way to Paris, and became
believers in the story of the young adventurer. But the hopes of the
aspirant in this quarter came to an end with the ending of the war.
Charles's secret purpose had been to force Henry to conclude a peace,
and in this he succeeded. He had now no further use for his young
protege. He had sufficient honor not to deliver him into Henry's hands,
as he was asked to do; but he set him adrift from his own court, bidding
him to seek his fortune elsewhere.

From France the young aspirant made his way into Flanders, and presented
himself at the court of the Duchess of Burgundy, with every appearance
of never having been there before. He sought her, he said, as his aunt.
The duchess received him with an air of doubt and suspicion. He was, she
acknowledged, the image of her dear departed brother, but more evidence
was needed. She questioned him, therefore, closely, before the members
of her court, making searching inquiries into his earlier life and
recollections. These he answered so satisfactorily that the duchess
declared herself transported with astonishment and joy, and vowed that
he was indeed her nephew, miraculously delivered from prison, brought
from death to life, wonderfully preserved by destiny for some great
fortune. She was not alone in this belief. All who heard his answers
agreed with her, many of them borne away by his grace of person and
manner and the fascination of his address. The duchess declared his
identity beyond doubt, did him honor as a born prince, gave him a
body-guard of thirty halberdiers, who were clad in a livery of murrey
and blue, and called him by the taking title of the "White Rose of
England." He seemed, indeed, like one risen from the grave to set afloat
once more the banners of the White Rose of York.

The tidings of what was doing in Flanders quickly reached England, where
a party in favor of the aspirant's pretensions slowly grew up. Several
noblemen joined it, discontent having been caused