future;
and that which she foreread left her nor all sorry nor profoundly glad,
for living seemed by this, though scarcely the merry and colorful
business which she had esteemed it, yet immeasurably the more worth
while.

THE END OF THE SECOND NOVEL

III

The Story of the Rat-Trap

"_Leixant a part le stil dels trobados,
Dos grans dezigs han combatut ma pensa,
Mas lo voler vers un seguir dispensa;
Yo l'vos publich, amar dretament vos._"

THE THIRD NOVEL.--MEREGRETT OF FRANCE, THINKING
TO PRESERVE A HOODWINKED GENTLEMAN, ANNOYS A
SPIDER; AND BY THE GRACE OF DESTINY THE WEB OF THAT
CUNNING INSECT ENTRAPS A BUTTERFLY, A WASP, AND
THEN A GOD; WHO SHATTERS IT.

The Story of the Rat-Trap

In the year of grace 1298, a little before Candlemas (thus Nicolas
begins), came letters to the first King Edward of England from his
kinsman and ambassador to France, Earl Edmund of Lancaster. It was
perfectly apparent, the Earl wrote, that the French King meant to
surrender to the Earl's lord and brother neither the duchy of Guienne
nor the Lady Blanch.

The courier found Sire Edward at Ipswich, midway in celebration of his
daughter's marriage to the Count of Holland. The King read the letters
through and began to laugh; and presently broke into a rage such as was
possible to the demon-tainted blood of Anjou. So that next day the
keeper of the privy purse entered upon the household-books a
considerable sum "to make good a large ruby and an emerald lost out of
his coronet when the King's Grace was pleased to throw it into the
fire"; and upon the same day the King recalled Lancaster, and more
lately despatched yet another embassy into France to treat about Sire
Edward's second marriage. This last embassy was headed by the Earl of
Aquitaine.

The Earl got audience of the French King at Mezelais. Walking alone
came this Earl of Aquitaine, with a large retinue, into the hall where
the barons of France stood according to their rank; in russet were the
big Earl and his attendants, but upon the scarlets and purples of the
French lords many jewels shone; as through a corridor of gayly painted
sunlit glass came the grave Earl to the dais where sat King Philippe.

The King had risen at close sight of the new envoy, and had gulped once
or twice, and without speaking, hurriedly waved his lords out of
ear-shot. His perturbation was very extraordinary.

"Fair cousin," the Earl now said, without