chatter, boy,--young eagles in silence measure the space
between the eyry and the sun!"

The boy hung his head, and would have slunk off, but Richard detained
him with a gentle hand. "My fair young cousin," said he, "thy words gall
no sore, and if ever thou and I charge side by side into the foeman's
ranks, thou shalt comprehend what thy uncle designed to say,--how, in
the hour of strait and need, we measure men's stature not by the body
but the soul!"

"A noble answer," whispered Anne, with something like sisterly
admiration.

"Too noble," said the more ambitious Isabel, in the same voice, "for
Clarence's future wife not to fear Clarence's dauntless brother."

"And so," said the prince, quitting the stall with Warwick, while the
girls still lingered behind, "so Saladin hath no son! Wherefore? Can you
mate him with no bride?"

"Faith," answered the earl, "the females of his race sleep in yonder
dell, their burial-place, and the proud beast disdains all meaner loves.
Nay, were it not so, to continue the breed, if adulterated, were but to
mar it."

"You care little for the legend, meseems."

"Pardieu! at times, yes, over much; but in sober moments I think that
the brave man who does his duty lacks no wizard prophecy to fulfil his
doom; and whether in prayer or in death, in fortune or defeat, his soul
goes straight to God!"

"Umph," said Richard, musingly; and there was a pause. "Warwick,"
resumed the prince, "doubtless, even on your return to London, the
queen's enmity and her mother's will not cease. Clarence loves Isabel,
but Clarence knows not how to persuade the king and rule the king's
womankind. Thou knowest how I have stood aloof from all the factions
of the court. Unhappily I go to the Borders, and can but slightly serve
thee. But--" (he stopped short, and sighed heavily).

"Speak on, Prince."

"In a word, then, if I were thy son, Anne's husband, I see--I see--I
see--" (thrice repeated the prince, with a vague dreaminess in his eye,
and stretching forth his hand)--"a future that might defy all foes,
opening to me and thee!"

Warwick hesitated in some embarrassment.

"My gracious and princely cousin," he said at length, "this proffer is
indeed sweet incense to a father's pride. But pardon me, as yet, noble
Richard, thou art so young that the king and the world would blame
me did I suffer my ambition to listen to such temptation. Enough, at
present, if all disputes between our House and the king can