's sway had he held the sceptre firmly and played the part of
king, to any purpose. But his health and temperament were alike
feeble: he inherited the fatal malady of his grandsire of France,
and was subject to fits of mental illness which made him utterly
helpless and supine. His strong-minded queen was detested by the
nobles and unpopular with the mass of the people, whilst the
ambition of the powerful barons and peers had made civil strife an
easy and popular thing.

There was no great issue at stake in these disastrous wars; no
burning question was settled by the victory of either side; no
great principle or national interest was involved. It was little
more in reality than the struggle for supremacy and place amongst
the overbearing and ambitious nobles; hence the ease and readiness
with which they changed sides on every imaginable pretext, and the
hopeless character of the struggle, which ruined and exhausted the
country without vindicating one moral or national principle.

But Paul Stukely, at twenty years of age, was not likely to take
this dispassionate view of the case. His whole heart was in the
cause of the Red Rose, and he could scarce listen to these quiet
but telling words without breaking out into ardent defence of the
cause he had at heart.

"But listen, good mistress," he exclaimed eagerly, when she had
ceased to speak: "there are better days dawning for the land than
they have seen either beneath the rule of the gentle Henry or the
bold but licentious Edward. His blessed majesty has no love for the
office of king, and his long captivity has further weakened his
health and increased his love for retirement. You speak truly when
you doubt if he will ever rule this turbulent nation, so long torn
with strife and divided into faction. But think--he need not sway
the sceptre which has proved too heavy for his hands. He has a
son--a fair and gallant prince--worthy of the royal name of Edward
which he bears. Men say that it will not be the feeble father who
will restore order to the country and bring peace again to its
shores, but that the task will be intrusted to the youthful Edward,
who in his person combines the graces of his stately mother and the
warlike prowess of his great ancestor whose cognizance he bears.
Trust me, good people, if you love not Henry you will love Henry's
son; and will it not be better to be ruled by him than by that
other Edward of York, the usurper, who, though I verily believ