But her triumph was of short duration. Somerset soon after surrendered the castle of Bamborough to Warwick, on condition that he should receive a pension from King Edward; Suffolk and Exeter also swore homage to the throne of Edward. But notwithstanding these treacheries, Margaret still courageously struggled, and at length succeeded in winning back Somerset and Exeter to the banner of the Red Rose; but Somerset was, after all, a poor support, and in the contest which followed at Hexham his weak generalship caused a total rout of the Lancastrian army. Margaret fled with the young prince to the Scottish border, taking with her all the jewels and treasures she could secure; but these were all stolen from her by a band of banditti who attacked her small company of friends; and while the ruffians, with drawn swords, were fighting for the plunder, Margaret escaped with her son alone in the dense forest: here night closed over them. They had neither of them tasted food since early in the day. To add to her distress, poor Margaret did not know whether her husband was dead or alive, as they had fled from Hexham in different directions. Every tree in that dark forest seemed to the terrified queen’s fancies an armed foe, seeking the life of herself and child. Suddenly, as the moon broke through the obscuring clouds, she perceived a gigantic man advancing towards her. For a moment her heart stood still for very horror, but with the danger came also courage; and, filled with a sudden inspiration of sublime action, she advanced with calm majesty to the outlaw, leading her son by the hand, and with the manner of a queen whose right it was to command, and in tones thrilling with overpowering fervor, she presented her child, saying:— “Here, my friend, save the son of your king! to your loyalty I intrust him. Take him, and conceal him from those who seek his life. Give him refuge in thine own hiding-place.”