“We are yet to guard Roche-de-Frêne from wolf-neighbour and fox-neighbour, Count Dragon and King Lion? Have you heard tell of the siege in your grandfather’s time? But well I wot that the town has no enemies, that none is jealous of its trade, that no wolf thinks, ‘Now if I had its market—or if I had it with its market!’ and no dragon ponders, ‘What if I put forth a claw and drag these weavers and dyers and saddlers where they may weave and dye and work in leather for me? When I have them in my den they may whistle not for new, but for old freedoms!’—We are yet to keep Roche-de-Frêne in as fair safety as we may?” “Lord, lord,” said Thibaut, “are we not of one another? If you are strong to keep us safe, are we not strong to make you wealth?” “My father gave you freedoms, and often have I heard him say that he repented his giving! Then I ruled, and for a time held to that later mind of his. Then about many matters I formed my own mind, and in larger measure than he had given, I granted freedom. For a fair space of time you rested content. Then you began to ask again. And again, now this grant and now that, I have given!” He ceased to speak, sitting dressed in bronze samite, with a knight’s belt of finest work, and on his head a circlet of gold. Thibaut Canteleu still kneeled. Now he raised his black eyes. “Lord, why did you give?” “Because it seemed to me right,” said Prince Gaucelm. Thibaut spread his hands. The corners of the Princess Audiart’s lips twitched. She glanced aside at Gaucelm the Fortunate, and a very sweet and loving look came like a beam of light into her face. She said under her breath, “Ah, Jesu! Judgement in this matter has been given!” turned her head and retook the intent and brooding look. Her eyes, that had marked width between them, received impression from the length and breadth of the hall. She gathered each slight movement and change in the deputation of citizens; and as for Thibaut Canteleu, she saw that Thibaut, also, grasped that judgement had been given. Prince Gaucelm sat without movement of body or change of look. His size did not give him a seeming of heaviness, nor the words that he had spoken take power from his aspect. He did not seem conscious of their effect upon others. He sat in silence, then shook himself and returned to the matter in hand. “Tell us now, Thibaut Canteleu, what it is that the town desires.” “Lord,” said Canteleu, “we wish and desire to elect our own magistrates. And our disputes and offences—saving always, lord, those that are truly treasonable or that err against Holy Church—we wish and desire to bring into our own courts and before judges of our choosing.”