he soil, who
speak not to please their listener but as their heart dictates.

"Paul, tell me I have done well--smile upon me again; for I am very
lonely, and my heart sometimes sinks. But I love my people, and
would be loved by them, only I needs must grow to know them first."

"O my lord," cried Paul enthusiastically, "how can they help loving
you when they see you? But how come you alone, and in these wild
woods, too, infested by fierce robber bands? It is not meet thus to
peril your royal life."

The prince placed his hand smilingly on Paul's lips.

"Use not that word again," he said smilingly, yet with a certain
imperiousness of manner that became him well. "I am thus solitary
through the untoward accident that drowned the faithful follower
who alone shared my design, and I knew not that I was in peril from
these lawless men in one part of the realm more than the other.
Paul, if I ever wield the kingly power, I will put down these bands
of marauders with a strong hand. My peaceful subjects shall not go
in terror of their liberties and lives. I would learn all their
wrongs that I may right them. They shall know at last that a prince
who loves them has been in their midst."

"And, my lord, if you are thus alone and unattended, take me with
you on your travels. Did you not promise me long years ago that the
day would come when we should roam the world together? and has not
the time come now?"

"Why, verily I believe it has," cried Edward, with brightening
eyes. "But, Paul, I have not asked you of yourself. Have you no
other tie--no stronger claim? And how comes it that you are here,
so far away from your home? I have asked not your history, though I
have told mine own."

"Mine is soon told, sweet prince," said Paul. "I crave your pardon,
but I know not how else to frame my speech."

Then in a few graphic words he sketched the history of himself and
his kindred during those troubled years of civil strife and of
Edward's reign; and young Edward listened with a sorrowful air and
drooping mien, and heaved a deep sigh at the conclusion.

"Another faithful house ruined--another tale of woe for which it
seems we unhappy princes are the cause. Nay, Paul, I know what you
would say, brave loyal heart; but it lies heavy on my soul for all
that. And having suffered thus, why tempt your fate anew by linking
your fortunes with those of the hapless House of Lancaster? Why
not--"

"My lord, break not my heart by rejectin