"Perhaps so," rejoined Ella; "for he knew, I believe, that you did not wish to have me in your company. 'Tis a charge, noble sir; and a poor minstrel girl is not fit for a high gentleman's train." "Nay, you do me wrong, Ella," answered Richard of Woodville; "right willingly, my poor girl, now as heretofore, in this as in other things, will I give you protection. I thought, indeed, that it might be better for yourself to remain; and there were reasons, moreover, that you do not know." "Nay, but I do know, sir," replied Ella, interrupting him; "I know it all. I have made acquaintance with your lady-love, and sat at her knee and sung to her; and she has befriended the poor lonely girl, as you did before her; and she told me, she would neither doubt you nor me, though you took me on your journey, and protected me by the way." "Dear, frank Mary!" exclaimed Richard of Woodville; "there spoke her own true heart. But tell me more about this, Ella. How did you see her?--when?--where?" Ella Brune did as he bade her, and related to him all that had occurred to her since he had left London. As she spoke, her eye was generally averted; but sometimes it glanced to his countenance, especially when she either referred to Sir Simeon of Roydon, or to Mary Markham; and she saw with pleasure the flush upon her young protector's cheek, the knitted brow, and flashing eye, when she told the outrage she had endured, and the look of generous satisfaction which lighted up each feature, when she spoke of the protection she had received from good Sir Philip Beauchamp and the King. "Ah! my noble uncle!" he said; "he is, indeed, somewhat harsh and rash when the warm blood stirs within him, as all these old knights are, Ella; but there never was a man more ready to draw the sword, or open the purse, for those who are in need of either, than himself. And so the King befriended you, too? He is well worthy of his royal name, and has done but justice on this arch knave." "Not half justice," answered Ella Brune, with a sudden change of tone; "but no matter for that, the hand of vengeance will reach him one of these days. He cannot hide his deeds from God!--But you speak not of your sweet lady:--was she not kind to the poor minstrel girl?" "She is always kind," answered Richard of Woodville. "God's blessing on her blithe heart! She would fain give the same sunshine that is within her own soft bosom, to every one around her."