have been the loss of England
herself but for God's mercy. The friend of Sathanas and of all evil,
the foe of God and of all good--this, and no less, it seemeth me, was
Sir Roger de Mortimer of Wigmore. God pardon him as He may [if such a
thing be possible]!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1. A very sweet, luscious wine. Verjuice was the most acid type
of vinegar.

Note 2. Quiet, calm, patient. In Lowland Scotch, to _thole_ is still
to endure; and _thole-mood_ must mean calm endurance.

PART ONE, CHAPTER 2.

WHEREIN CICELY BEGINS TO SEE.

"Tempt not the Tempter; he is near enough."

Dr Horatius Bonar.

Now can any man tell what it is in folks that causeth other folks to
fancy them? for I have oft-times been sorely pestered to find out.
Truly, if man be very fair, or have full winning ways, and sweet words,
and so forth, then may it be seen without difficulty. I never was
puzzled to know why Sir Roger or any other should have fallen o' love
with Queen Isabel. But what on earth could draw her to him, that
puzzled me sore. He was not young--about ten years elder than she, and
she was now a woman of thirty years. Nor was he over comely, as men
go,--I have seen better-favoured men, and I have seen worser. Nor were
his manners sweet and winning, but the very contrary thereof, for they
were rough and rude even to women, he alway seemed to me the very
incarnation of pride. Men charged Sir Hugh Le Despenser with pride, but
Sir Roger de Mortimer was worse than he tenfold. One of his own sons
called him the King of Folly: and though the charge came ill from his
lips that brought it, yet was it true as truth could be. His pride
showed every where--in his dress, in the way he bore himself, in his
words,--yea, in the very tones of his voice. And his temper was furious
as ever I saw. Verily, he was one of the least lovesome men that I knew
in all my life: yet for him, the fairest lady of that age bewrayed her
own soul, and sold the noblest gentleman to the death. Truly, men and
women be strange gear!

I had written thus far when I laid down my pen, and fell a-meditating,
on the strangeness of such things as folks be and do in this world. And
as I there sat, I was aware of Father Philip in the chamber, that had
come in softly and unheard of me, so lost in thought was I. He smiled
when I looked up on him.

"How goeth the chronicle, my daughter?" sait