might have disarmed a fiend, he paused before the cage and
contemplated his fellow-captive--"foolish bird, the uneasiness and
turmoil without have reached even to thee. Thou beatest thy wings
against the wires, thou turnest thy bright eyes to mine restlessly.
Why? Pantest thou to be free, silly one, that the hawk may swoop on
its defenceless prey? Better, perhaps, the cage for thee, and the
prison for thy master. Well, out if thou wilt! Here at least thou
art safe!" and opening the cage, the starling flew to his bosom, and
nestled there, with its small clear voice mimicking the human sound,--

"Poor Henry, poor Henry! Wicked men, poor Henry!"

The king bowed his meek head over his favourite, and the fat spaniel,
jealous of the monopolized caress, came waddling towards its master,
with a fond whine, and looked up at him with eyes that expressed more
of faith and love than Edward of York, the ever wooing and ever wooed,
had read in the gaze of woman.

With those companions, and with thoughts growing more and more
composed and rapt from all that had roused and vexed his interest in
the forenoon, Henry remained till the hour had long passed for his
evening meal. Surprised at last by a negligence which (to do his
jailers justice) had never before occurred, and finding no response to
his hand-bell, no attendant in the anteroom, the outer doors locked as
usual, but the sentinel's tread in the court below hushed and still, a
cold thrill for a moment shot through his blood.--"Was he left for
hunger to do its silent work?" Slowly he bent his way from the outer
rooms back to his chamber; and, as he passed the casement again, he
heard, though far in the distance, through the dim air of the
deepening twilight, the cry of "Long live King Henry!"