"And is ever so, in reality," replied Richard of Woodville; "the rest are all counterfeits, which only pass with men who know no better. It is of this honour that I speak, sir. However, as you know me not, I cannot expect you to attribute to me qualities that are indeed now rare; yet, holding myself bound by that very honour which we speak of, to deliver the letter that I bear to no one but him for whom it was destined, unless you tell me you are indeed that person, I must carry it back with me." "Stay!--what is your name?" demanded the other--"that may give me light." "My name is Richard of Woodville," answered his visitor. "Ha! Richard of Woodville!" cried the stranger, with a look of joy, grasping his hand warmly. "Give it me--give it me--quick! I am Sir John Grey. How fares she?--where is she?--why did she not come?" "I know not of whom you speak," replied Woodville; "this letter is from the King;" and, drawing it forth, he put it into his companion's hand. "From the King!" exclaimed Sir John Grey--"from the King!--a letter to me!"--and he held the packet to the lamp, and gazed on the superscription attentively. "True, indeed?" he said at length, cutting the silk. "'Our trusty and well-beloved!'--a style I have not heard for years;" and bending his head over it, he perused the contents, which were somewhat long. Woodville gazed at his face while he read, and marked the light and shade of many varied emotions come across it. Now, the eye strained eagerly at the first lines, and the brow knit; now, a proud smile curled the lip; and now, the eyelids showed a tear. But presently, as he proceeded, all haughtiness passed away from his look--he raised his eyes to heaven, as if in thankfulness; and at the end let fall the paper on the table, and clasped his hands together, exclaiming, "Praise to thy name, Most Merciful! The dark hour has come to an end!" Then stretching forth his open arms to Richard of Woodville, he said, "Let me take you to my heart, messenger of joy!--you have brought me life!" "I am overjoyed to be that messenger, Sir John," replied Woodville; "but, in truth, I was ignorant of what I carried. I did but guess, indeed, from my knowledge of the King's great soul, that he would not be so eager that this should reach you soon, if the tidings it contained were evil." "They are home to the exile," replied the knight; "wealth to the beggar; grace and station to the disgraced and fallen; the reversal of all his father's bitter acts; the generous outpouring of a true royal heart! Noble, noble prince! God requite me with misery eternal, if I do not devote every moment that remains of this short life to do you signal service. And you, too, my friend," he continued, taking his visitor's hand--"so you are the man who, choosing by the heart alone, setting rank, and wealth, and name aside, looking but to loveliness and worth, sought the hand of a poor and portionless girl--the daughter of a proscribed and banished fugitive?"