De Bracy only answered by a smile.

“By the light of Our Lady’s brow,” said Prince John, “our orders to him were most precise—though it may be you heard them not, as we stood together in the oriel window—most clear and positive was our charge that Richard’s safety should be cared for, and woe to Waldemar’s head if he transgress it!”

“I had better pass to his lodgings,” said De Bracy, “and make him fully aware of your Grace’s pleasure; for, as it quite escaped my ear, it may not perchance have reached that of Waldemar.”

“Nay, nay,” said Prince John impatiently, “I promise thee he heard me; and, besides, I have further occupation for thee. Maurice, come hither; let me lean on thy shoulder.”

They walked a turn through the hall in this familiar posture, and Prince John, with an air of the most confidential intimacy, proceeded to say, “What thinkest thou of this Waldemar Fitzurse, my De Bracy?—He trusts to be our Chancellor. Surely we will pause ere we give an office so high to one who shows evidently how little he reverences our blood, by his so readily undertaking this enterprise against Richard. Thou dost think, I warrant, that thou hast lost somewhat of our regard, by thy boldly declining this unpleasant task. But no, Maurice! I rather honour thee for thy virtuous constancy. There are things most necessary to be done, the perpetrator of which we neither love nor honour; and there may be refusals to serve us, which shall rather exalt in our estimation those who deny our request. The arrest of my unfortunate brother forms no such good title to the high office of Chancellor, as thy chivalrous and courageous denial establishes in thee to the truncheon of High Marshal. Think of this, De Bracy, and begone to thy charge.”

“Fickle tyrant!” muttered De Bracy, as he left the presence of the Prince; “evil luck have they who trust thee. Thy Chancellor, indeed!—He who hath the keeping of thy conscience shall have an easy charge, I trow. But High Marshal of England! that,” he said, extending his arm, as if to grasp the baton of office, and assuming a loftier stride along the antechamber, “that is indeed a prize worth playing for.”

De Bracy had no sooner left the apartment than Prince John summoned an attendant.

“Bid Hugh Bardon, our scout-master, come hither, as soon as he shall have spoken with Waldemar Fitzurse.”

The scout-master arrived after a brief delay, during which John traversed the apartment with unequal and disordered steps.

“Bardon,” said he, “what did Waldemar desire of thee?”

“Two resolute men, well acquainted with these northern wilds, and skilful in tracking the tread of man and horse.”

“And thou hast fitted him?”

“Let your Grace never trust me else,” answered the master of the spies. “One is from Hexhamshire; he is wont to trace the Tynedale and Teviotdale thieves, as a bloodhound follows the slot of a hurt deer. The other is Yorkshire bred, and has twanged his bowstring right oft in merry Sherwood; he knows each glade and dingle, copse and high-wood, betwixt this and Richmond.”

“’Tis well,” said the Prince.—“Goes Waldemar forth with them?”

“Instantly,” said Bardon.

“With what attendance?” asked John carelessly.