man's heart. The blade broke against the mail armor under the tunic.
"Have I not told you," Sire Edward wearily said, "that one may never
trust a Capet? Now, messieurs, bind these carrion and convey them
whither I have directed you. Nay, but, Roger--" He conversed apart with
his son, the Earl of Pevensey, and what Sire Edward commanded was done.
The French King and seven lords of France went from that hut trussed
like chickens ready for the oven.

And now Sire Edward turned toward Meregrett and chafed his big hands
gleefully. "At every tree-bole a tethered horse awaits us; and a ship
awaits our party at Fécamp. To-morrow we sleep in England--and, Mort de
Dieu! do you not think, madame, that once within my very persuasive
Tower of London, your brother and I may come to some agreement over
Guienne?"

She had shrunk from him. "Then the trap was yours? It was you that lured
my brother to this infamy!"

"In effect, I planned it many months ago at Ipswich yonder," Sire Edward
gayly said. "Faith of a gentleman! your brother has cheated me of
Guienne, and was I to waste eternity in begging him to give me back my
province? Oh, no, for I have many spies in France, and have for some two
years known your brother and your sister to the bottom. Granted that I
came hither incognito, to forecast your kinfolk's immediate endeavors
was none too difficult; and I wanted Guienne--and, in consequence, the
person of your brother. Hah, death of my life! does not the seasoned
hunter adapt his snare to the qualities of his prey, and take the
elephant through his curiosity, as the snake through his notorious
treachery?" Now the King of England blustered.