convents! I have ever believed that was the Queen's doing. It was she that loved not the Lady Mortimer should go to France: it should have interfered with her game. But what weakness and folly was it that the King should hearken her! Well-- "Soft you, now!" "O Jack, how thou didst start me! I very nigh let my pen fall." "Then shouldst thou have inked thy tunic, Sissot; and it were pity, so good Cologne sindon as it is. But whither goest thou with thy goose-quill a-flying, good wife? Who was Sir Roger de Mortimer? and what like was he?" "Who was he, Jack?" quoth I, feeling somewhat took aback. "Why, he was--he was Sir Roger de Mortimer." "How like a woman!" saith Jack, setting his hands in the pockets of his singlet. "Now, Jack!" said I. "And what was he like, saidst thou? Why, he was as like a traitor, and a wastrel, and every thing that was bad, as ever I saw man in all my life." "Horns, belike--and cloven feet--and a long tail?" quoth Jack. "I'll give it up, Sissot. Thou wert best write thy chronicle thine own way. But it goeth about to be rarely like a woman." "Why, how should it not, when a woman is she that writeth it?" said I, laughing. But Jack had turned away, with that comical twist of his mouth which shows him secretly diverted. Verily, I know not who to say Sir Roger was, only that he was Lord of Wigmore and Ludlow, and son of the Lady Margaret that was born a Fienles, and husband of the Lady Joan that was born a Geneville; and the proudest caitiff and worst man that ever was, as shall be shown ere I lay down my pen. He was man that caused the loss of himself and of other far his betters, and that should have been the loss of England herself but for God's mercy. The friend of Sathanas and of all evil, the foe of God and of all good--this, and no less, it seemeth me, was Sir Roger de Mortimer of Wigmore. God pardon him as He may [if such a thing be possible]! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. A very sweet, luscious wine. Verjuice was the most acid type of vinegar. Note 2. Quiet, calm, patient. In Lowland Scotch, to _thole_ is still to endure; and _thole-mood_ must mean calm endurance. PART ONE, CHAPTER 2. WHEREIN CICELY BEGINS TO SEE. "Tempt not the Tempter; he is near enough." Dr Horatius Bonar.