lf and her husband of the
project contemplated by the chief nobles, to depose King Richard and
place the Earl of Richmond on the throne. She was afraid of exciting
hopes that might end in disappointment, yet she was herself sanguine as
to the possibility of De Clifford being restored to his rights if the
crown should be won by a prince of the House of Lancaster. Sir John
took great interest in the cause, being himself related in a distant
degree to Henry Earl of Richmond; therefore the Saint John's of Bletso
had royal blood in their veins.

It was the close of the autumn, in the year 1485, when Lady Margaret
came one evening to Robin's cottage, not secretly as heretofore, not in
fear and trembling lest it should be known for whom her visit was
intended, but openly to greet her son as De Clifford's heir. Little did
he guess the purport of her coming as he returned her fond embrace, but
he saw that her countenance was radiant with happiness, and he asked if
Sir Lancelot had returned.

"No, my son, he is in London; and, Henry, I have important news to tell.
Have you courage to hear it?"

"Why should I need courage, dear mother? You do not look as if you had
evil tidings to communicate."

"The tidings I bring are not evil; but it requires fortitude to bear a
great joy as well as a great sorrow, when it comes upon us
unexpectedly."

Henry's heart began to beat more quickly, his face flushed, and his
voice trembled as he asked--

"Mother, what has happened? Tell me at once, I beseech you."

"I told you, Henry, that we were looking for a renewal of the war."

"Yes, you told me so. Has it begun again?"

"It has begun and ended, I hope, for ever. There has been a battle;
King Richard is killed, and a prince of the House of Lancaster now sits
on the throne."

Henry started up from his seat, his eyes fixed on Lady Margaret's face
in an agony of suspense.

"And I, mother, what have I to do with this?"

"Much, my beloved son. Henry the Seventh is a just and noble prince,
and your father, my husband, is at his court even now."

"Then, am I--am I--" he could not give utterance to what he wished to
say, but Lady Margaret knew what he would ask, and replied--

"Yes, my Henry, it is even so. You are now Lord Clifford before all the
world, and I, your mother, may once more fearlessly acknowledge my son."

Henry fell on his knees, and raised his clasped hands and streaming eyes
in gratitude to heaven. He could