I think there is no sadder picture in the whole of English history than this, which shows us this great and wise King, for remember he _was_ a great and wise King, who had done an immense amount of good to his country, whose name might have been handed down to us, like that of Alfred the Great, or Victoria the Good, or Edward the Peacemaker, sitting listening to the advice of his wife, who was a thoroughly wicked woman, seeing clearly how bad, and cruel, and treacherous that advice was--aye, and saying so, too--and yet feeling tempted in his heart of hearts to follow it, because of the one weak spot in his otherwise strong character, his ungovernable lust for land and power. If only he could have looked into the future, and seen how that one dark deed would leave a stain on his memory, which would last when his good deeds would be forgotten, and how a blight would descend on his house almost as though it were a direct judgment from God, I think he would have ordered his wife to be silent, and never to speak such words to him again. But to see into the future is impossible. So, as if to shake the responsibility from his own shoulders, he did not actually forbid the scheme, but he pretended to be very angry, and strode out into the hall, and called to his knights and to his son, Prince Ecgfrith, to mount and ride with him to meet the stranger King. When he was gone, the unscrupulous Queen, who felt that she was now at liberty to work her wicked will, sent for the King’s most trusty henchman, Cymbert, the Warden of the Castle, who was tall, and strong, and a mighty fighter, but who had a heart as hard as stone. Illustration: _Valentine & Sons, Ltd._ HEREFORD CATHEDRAL. When he had answered the summons, and come and bowed low before her, the Queen said to him: ‘Cymbert, it is not fitting that thou, the Warden of this mighty Castle, shouldst be but a slave and a thrall, wouldst thou not like to be a freeman?’ ‘That would I, O Queen,’ replied the henchman. ‘And more than that, wouldst thou earn land of thine own, where thou couldst build a house?’ ‘Yea, verily!’ was the answer. ‘All these things shall be thine,’ said Quendreda, ‘if thou wilt but carry out my orders. Thou knowest that this very day the King of the East Angles cometh, that he may wed my daughter. ’Tis my wish to have him put to death, so that his Kingdom may be joined to that of Mercia. ‘To this end I will lodge him in the Royal chamber, beneath which, as thou knowest, runs a secret passage, which leads to the little postern in the wall. ‘Thou must arrange a trap-door in the flooring, which will sink or rise at will, and over it I will cause a couch to be placed. ‘Then, to-night, at supper, I will make the Monarch pledge me in a cup of wine, into which I will empty a potion. When he feeleth sleep come creeping upon him, he will retire to his chamber, and throw himself on the couch, and, to a man like thee, all the rest will be easy.