chain, to gratify the Princess!"

"Peace, Hamlyn," returned the Prince: "thou speakest thou knowest
not what.--Come hither, boy," he added, laying his hand on his young
captive's shoulder, and putting him through the door with a
familiarity that astonished Hamlyn--all the more, when he found that
while both prisoners were admitted, he himself was excluded!

Princess Eleanor was alone in another chamber of the sylvan lodge,
hung with tapestry representing hunting scenes, the floor laid with
deer-skins, and deer's antlers projecting from the wall, to support
the feminine properties that marked it as her special abode. She was
standing when they entered; and was turning eagerly with outstretched
hand and face of recognition, when Prince Edward checked her by
saying, "Nay, the cause is not yet tried:" and placing her in a large
carved oaken chair, where she sat with a lily-like grace and dignity,
half wondering, but following his lead, he proceeded, "Sit thou
there, fair dame, and exercise thy right, as judge of the two
captives whom I place at thy feet."

"And you, my Lord?" she asked.

"I stand as their accuser," said Edward. "Advance, prisoners!--Now,
most fair judge, what dost thou decree for the doom of Adam de
Gourdon, rebel first, and since that the terror of our royal father's
lieges, the robber of his treasurers, the rifler of our Cousin
Pembroke's jewellery, the slayer of our deer?"

"Alas! my Lord, why put such questions to me," said Eleanor
imploringly, "unless, as I would fain hope, thou dost but jest?"