It was not on this occasion John’s fortune to be very magnificently attended. In fact, he was every day becoming more unpopular; and many men who might otherwise have been inclined to arm in his behalf were awed into neutrality by the hostile bearing and the menacing attitude which the confederate barons assumed towards all who would not support their cause. Several men of consideration, however, were sufficiently under the influence of loyal memories to adhere steadfastly to the regal standard, though not much enamoured of a king who had brought his crown into such jeopardy; and the royal party, besides the Earls of Pembroke and Salisbury, and Warren, and Lord Hugh Neville, included eight bishops and about seventy knights. Besides, the papal legate accompanied John, and gave him the whole benefit of his influence, which, in spite of the counteracting influence of the primate, was not slight, nor to be lightly regarded, as both the primate and the barons well knew. Nevertheless, in spite of the presence of the legate and bishops, even the most steadfast of his partisans looked grave; and on the evening of Thursday, the 14th of June, John sat at supper in the gloomy great hall of Windsor with the expression of a man who saw the handwriting on the wall, and whose crown and sceptre were about to pass away. At a late hour, when the Earl of Pembroke, and the legate, and the eight bishops had quaffed the “poculum charitatis,” and been ceremoniously conducted to the apartments appropriated to their use, Hugh Neville, who was Keeper of the Great Seal, and one of the staunchest of the king’s adherents, reached Windsor and was admitted to the presence of the king, whom he found pacing his chamber restlessly. Many a time, in seasons of depression, John had drawn consolation for the present and hope for the future from Neville’s counsels; but now the Norman baron had a weight of care on his brow, and looked liker a man to need than to administer consolation and hope. “Welcome, Hugh Neville,” exclaimed John, endeavouring to be gay, “I am right glad to see your face, though it is somewhat longer than I could wish--as glad as if you had brought the philosopher’s stone in your pocket.” Hugh Neville bowed in acknowledgment of the royal courtesy, and remained silent, that John might pursue the subject without interruption. “I mean the stone which is said to turn everything into gold,” continued John, “and beshrew me if gold would now come amiss. Had I but treasure, methinks I could not fail speedily to better my position.” “Sire,” said Neville, gravely, “the best treasures of a king are the hearts of his people.” John looked angrily, supposing that the words conveyed some reproach; but seeing that none was intended he calmed himself, smoothed his ruffled brow, and answered--