Some of these things were known to Edward as he lay in his quarters at Worcester; and yet his soul was in no wise dismayed, for he was surrounded by brave hearts and willing hands, and had a premonition within him that the tide of fortune had turned, and that the days of his adversity were drawing to a close. He was walking to and fro in meditation in the precincts of the Cathedral, where he had heard mass earlier in the day, when the sound of rapid approaching steps caused him to turn, and he saw Hugh le Barbier hastening towards him. "Comest thou with tidings?" asked the Prince eagerly. "I have been told that a woman has arrived at the city, desiring speech with the Prince," answered Hugh. "She will not answer questions, nor unveil her face, but says that she comes from Kenilworth, and that she brings tidings for the ears of the Prince. Since she would not say more whatever was asked of her, I came forth to find you. Will it please you to grant her an audience? If she comes indeed from Kenilworth, she may bring news worth hearing, for men say that young Simon de Montfort is collecting reinforcements there." "I will see her at once," answered the Prince. "Go, have her brought to my quarters, and come thou thither thyself. It may well be that she brings tidings. I will hear what she has to say." Hugh hastened away, the Prince returned to his lodgings, and before long there was brought before him a veiled figure that seemed strangely familiar, albeit for the moment he could not recollect where or in what circumstances he had seen it before. "Who art thou?" he asked courteously; "and whence dost thou come? and what is thy message?" "I come from the forests surrounding the Castle of Kenilworth," answered the veiled woman in a low voice. "I have come with news for thee, O Prince. I have sworn to be avenged upon the house of De Montfort for the death of my brother. I come now to sell one scion of that bloody house into thine hands!" As she spoke the woman threw back her veil, and Hugh gave a great start of surprise. For standing before him, wan and wild, haggard and dishevelled, was the once beautiful Lotta Balzani, the woman who had once madly loved himself--or feigned to do so--the twin sister of his own wife! For Hugh was married now. He had wedded Linda shortly after the battle of Lewes, with the full consent of his parents. His wife was not far away, for Hugh's home lay not any great distance from this town, and he had but lately parted from her to join the standard of the Prince. With a great astonishment in his eyes he gazed at the changed face of Lotta. There was in her look something of wildness akin to madness, and when her eyes met his she gave no sign of recognition. It seemed as though the present had completely blotted out the past. The Prince was eyeing her intently, almost sternly.