reign's
weal."

"Let us first see what forces arrive from London," answered the king.
"Richard ere long will be on the march from the frontiers, and whatever
Warwick resolves, Montagu, whose heart I hold in my hand, will bring his
army to my side. Let us wait."

But the next day brought no reinforcements, nor the next; and the king
retired betimes to his tent, in much irritation and perplexity; when
at the dead of the night he was startled from slumber by the tramp of
horses, the sound of horns, the challenge of the sentinels, and, as he
sprang from his couch, and hurried on his armour in alarm, the Earl of
Warwick abruptly entered. The earl's face was stern, but calm and
sad; and Edward's brave heart beat loud as he gazed on his formidable
subject.

"King Edward," said Warwick, slowly and mournfully, "you have deceived
me! I promised to the commons the banishment of the Woodvilles, and to a
Woodville you have flown."

"Your promise was given to rebels, with whom no faith can be held; and I
passed from a den of mutiny to the camp of a loyal soldier."

"We will not now waste words, king," answered Warwick. "Please you to
mount and ride northward. The Scotch have gained great advantages on
the marches. The Duke of Gloucester is driven backwards. All the
Lancastrians in the North have risen. Margaret of Anjou is on the coast
of Normandy, [at this time Margaret was at Harfleur--Will. Wyre] ready
to set sail at the first decisive victory of her adherents."

"I am with you," answered Edward; "and I rejoice to think that at last
I may meet a foe. Hitherto it seems as if I had been chased by shadows.
Now may I hope to grasp the form and substance of danger and of battle."

"A steed prepared for your Grace awaits you."

"Whither ride we first?"

"To my castle of Warwick, hard by. At noon to-morrow all will be ready
for our northward march."

Edward, by this time having armed himself, strode from the tent into the
open air. The scene was striking: the moon was extremely bright and the
sky serene, but around the tent stood a troop of torch-bearers, and the
red glare shone luridly upon the steel of the serried horsemen and the
banners of the earl, in which the grim white bear was wrought upon an
ebon ground, quartered with the dun bull, and crested in gold with the
eagle of the Monthermers. Far as the king's eye could reach, he saw but
the spears of Warwick; while a confused hum in his own encampment told
that the troo