At greater length than he had spoken to the crowd, he told the Constable and his friends of the resolve of the Barons to resist to the death. It was no more than Sir Humphrey, and indeed all thinking men, had anticipated. To forego all that had been struggled for during these many years, and to tamely yield up the spoils of hard-fought fights, was altogether foreign to the nature of the English people, and to that of their leader. "I would they had never asked the King of France," said the Constable, expressing the general sentiment; "I always said no good would come of it. Louis of France may be a saint--of that I know nothing--but he is very much a King, and as such would certainly uphold the royal prerogative on every point." "And now, will there be war?" asked Hugh, speaking very gravely as he leaned over the back of the chair in which Linda was seated. Dame Margaret and the two maidens had been permitted to come below to welcome Amalric back, and it might be noted how, as he told his tale, his eyes kept seeking ever and anon the face of the fair Alys. Now he came a few steps nearer to make his reply. "I fear me so. Unless the King hear reason, it can scarce be otherwise; and bolstered up as he now is by his brother-in-law of France, he is little likely to show even the amount of moderation that he has sometimes done." The faces of all grew grave. War had many times been spoken of, but always as a thing not immediately probable; now it seemed indeed at the very door, and the faces of all betrayed a greater or less amount of anxiety. Amalric looked around him, as though to ask how far his friends would support his party even in extremity; for when once the question came to be settled by force of arms, it was always doubtful how far men would go. There were many who, whilst ardently desiring to see the King advised for his good, would not take up arms against him, regarding him as the anointed servant of God. This was indeed somewhat the view of Hugh le Barbier, and it was therefore with keen pain that he contemplated the thought of civil war. His sympathies were with the Barons. His personal affection for Amalric inclined him to fight shoulder to shoulder with his comrade. But he had a deeply-seated repugnance to fighting against the lawful sovereign of the realm, and whilst others pressed round Amalric, declaring that they would fight to the death for the cause of liberty, he stood in the same place, behind Linda's chair, and did not join his voice in promise or protest. Perhaps Amalric guessed at the struggle going on within him, for he did not seek to draw him into the discussion so eagerly conducted. It was Linda who, presently raising her eyes to her lover's face, asked softly,-- "And thou, beloved, what wilt thou do?"