"Do I speak jest, Gourdon?" said Edward, regarding Adam with a lion-
like glance.

"'Tis all true," growled Adam.

"And," proceeded the Prince, "if thy gentle lips refuse to utter the
doom merited by such deeds, what wilt thou say to hear that, not
content with these traitorous deeds of his own, he fosters the
treason of others? Here stands a young rebel, who would have
perished at Evesham, but for the care and protection of this Gourdon-
-who healed his wounds, guarded him, robbed for him, for him spurned
the offer of amnesty, and finally, set on thine own husband in Alton
Wood--all to shelter yonder young traitor from the hands of justice!
Speak the sentence he merits, most just of judges!"

"The sentence he merits?" said Eleanor, with swimming eyes. "Oh!
would that I were indeed monarch, to dispense life or death! What he
merits he shall have, from my whole heart--mine own poor esteem for
his fidelity, and our joint entreaties to the King for his pardon!
Brave man--thou shalt come with me to seek thy pardon from King
Henry!"

"Thanks, Lady," said Adam with rude courtesy; "but it were better to
seek my young lord's."

"My own dear young cousin!" exclaimed Eleanor, laying aside her
assumed judicial power, and again holding out her hands to him, "we
deemed you slain!"