eep and
treacherous waters of the Severn, and to be thus foiled might mean
the ruin of the enterprise. The sheltering mountains of Wales were
already in sight; but how was she to reach them if the passage of
the river were denied her?

Paul had gone forth alone that day, and had not been present when
the queen had ridden herself to the fortified gates to demand an
entrance, which had been firmly and respectfully declined her. But
he had learned tidings which disquieted him not a little, and it
was at full gallop that he dashed back into the ranks, and sought
the prince himself, who was looking with darkening brow upon the
frowning battlements of the unfriendly city.

"My liege, it brooks not this delay," he cried, reining up beside
Edward, and speaking in rapid whispers. "The army of York is scarce
a score of miles away, and in hot pursuit after us. They have had
certain news of our movements, and unless we can push on across the
river and meet our friends there, we shall be taken in the rear,
and at sore disadvantage. It behoves us to strain every nerve to
reach our friends before our foes are upon us."

"I doubt not that," answered Edward calmly, yet with a look which
Paul did not understand; "but the wide river runs before us, and
the bridge is barred to us. Unless we reduce first this noble city,
we must turn and face the foe and fight him at sore odds."

A look of dismay crossed Paul's face as he heard this piece of
news, and he silently followed the prince at his bidding to the
spot where the leading nobles and generals were gathered together
in warm debate. The news that Edward was just upon them ran like
wildfire through the ranks, and all the most experienced leaders,
including the royal Margaret herself, were of opinion that it would
be better not to run the risk of a battle, but retire rapidly and
stealthily from their present position, and not encounter the onset
of Edward's veteran troops, flushed with victory and thirsting for
blood, until their hardy mountain allies had contrived to join
them.

But there is something revolting to young and ardent spirits in the
thought of flight, and the Duke of Somerset was eager for the fray.
He argued that an easy victory must be theirs if they did but act
boldly and hastened to the attack. To fly were fatal; their troops
would become disheartened and melt away. Their foes would openly
triumph, and all men would be drawn to them. Edward's soldiers,
weary with l