"But that poor fellow, the servant!" answered the knight, sadly; "my heart is ill at rest for him. Misfortune teaches us to value things more justly than prosperity. A true and faithful friend, whatever be his station, is a treasure indeed, not to be lost without a bitter pang. I must thank God that my dear child is safe; yet I cannot forget him." "They will put him to ransom with the rest," replied Richard of Woodville. "I heard they had carried the merchants and their vessel to some port in the north, and doubtless you will soon hear of him. I did not learn that there was any violence committed; for, though they are usually hard and cruel men, they are even more avaricious than bloodthirsty." "God send it!" exclaimed Sir John Grey. "I wonder that your noble kinsman, when he heard that you were about to cross the sea, did not charge you with Mary's guidance hither. It would have been more safe." "But you forget," replied Woodville, "that I was ignorant of all concerning her. I thought she was an orphan till within the last ten days--or, perhaps, not so well placed as that. Besides, my uncle would not countenance our love; and, indeed, that was his reason; for I remember he said, that he wished we had not been such fools as to be caught by one another's eyes; that it would have saved him much embarrassment." Sir John Grey smiled, saying--"That is so much the man I left. He had even then outlived the memory of his own young days, when lady's love was all his thought but arms, and looked upon everything, but that lofty and more shadowy devotion to the fair, which was the soul of olden chivalry, as little better than youthful idleness. He kept you, then, even to the last, without knowledge of her fate and history? He did well, too, for so I wished it; but I will now tell you all; and there is not, indeed, much to say. I raised my lance, with the rest, for my sovereign, King Richard; was taken and pardoned; but swore no allegiance to one whom I could not but hold as an usurper. When occasion served again, I was not slack to do the same once more, and, with my friends, fought the lost battle of Shrewsbury. My life was saved by a poor faithful fellow of our army, who gave his own, I fear, for mine; and flying, more fortunately than others, I escaped to this land. Here I soon heard that I was proclaimed a traitor, my estate seized, my name attainted, and my child sought for to make her a ward of the crown, and to give her and the fortune which her mother inherited, to some minion of the court. She was then a mere child, and, by your uncle's kindly care, was taken first to Wales, and thence brought to his own house, where he has ever treated her as a daughter. I lingered on in this and other lands from year to year; and many an effort was made to entrap or drive me back into the net. The King of France was instigated to expel me from his dominions; the Duke of Burgundy was moved to follow his example, but would not so debase