them say--`He will come--he will come--safely back
again!'" And she sang the words in the tone of the chime.

Maude was silent. A dark, sudden presentiment seemed to seize upon her
of unknown coming evil, and to her ear also the bells had a voice. But
they rang--"He will come--he will come--never any more!"

The bells told the truth--to one of them.

The Duke of York escorted his sister to Windsor. She was accompanied by
Bertram and Maude, Eva, and several minor domestics. He left her full
directions how to proceed, promising to meet her with a guard of men a
few miles beyond Eton, and go with her overland as far as Hereford. The
final destination of Constance and her recaptured charges was to be her
own home at Cardiff, but a rather roundabout way was to be taken to
baffle the probable pursuers. York promised to let Kent know of the
escapade through one of his squires on the morning of their departure
from Windsor, with orders to join them as quickly as possible by sea
from Bideford. At Cardiff the final stand was to be made, in favour of
Richard, if living--of March, if he were proved to be dead. The evening
of a saint's day, about ten days later, was selected for the attempted
rescue; in the hope that the sentinels, having honoured the saint by
extra feasting and potations, might be the less disposed to extra
vigilance.

The first point to be ascertained was the exact rooms in the Castle
occupied by the youthful captives. This was easily found out by
Bertram. He and Maude were the sole confidants of their mistress's
secret. The second scene of the drama--which might turn either to
comedy or tragedy--was to obtain a mould of the lock in wax. This also
was done by Bertram, who further achieved the third point--that of
procuring false keys from a smith. Constance, whose ideas of truth were
elastic and accommodating, had instructed her messenger to say that the
keys had been lost, and the new ones were wanted to replace them; but
Bertram kept a conscience which declined to be burdened with this
falsehood, and accordingly he merely reported that the person who had
sent him required duplicates of the keys.

No idea of wrongfulness in aiding the plot ever occurred either to
Bertram or Maude. In their eyes King Henry was no king at all, but a
rebel, a usurper, and a murderer; and the true King, to whom alone their
fealty was due, was (if Richard were dead) the boy unjustly confined in
Windsor Castle. To