“Did you speak of my having written the letter?” asked Richard, pausing. The boy hung his head, and muttered something about Dame Idonea. By this time, even if Richard had thought of flight, it would have been impossible. Two archers made their presence apparent at the entrance of the tent, and in brief gruff tones informed Richard that the Prince required his presence. The space between his tent and the royal pavilion was short, but in those few steps Richard had time to glance over the dangers of his position, and take up his resolution though with a certain stunned sense that nothing could be before the member of a proscribed family, but failure, suspicion, and ruin. The two brothers, Edward and Edmund, with the Earl of Gloucester, and their other chief councillors, were assembled; and there were looks of deep concern on the faces of all, making Edward’s more than ever like a rigid marble statue; while Edmund had evidently been weeping bitterly, though his features were full of fierce indignation. Hamlyn de Valence, and a few other members of the murdered Prince’s suite, stood near in deep mourning suits. “Richard de Montfort,” said Prince Edward, looking at him with a sorrowful reproachful sternness that went to his heart, “we have sent for you to answer for yourself, on a grave charge. You have heard of that which has befallen?” “I have heard, my Lord, of a foul crime which my soul abhors. I trust none present here think me capable of sharing in it! Whoever dares to accuse me, shall be answered by my sword!” and he glanced fiercely at Hamlyn. “Hold!” said Edward severely, “no one is so senseless as to accuse you of taking actual part in a crime that took place beyond the sea; but there is only too much reason to believe that you have been tampered with by your brothers.” Then, as his brother Edmund made some suggestion to him, he added, “Is John de Mohun of Dunster here?” “Yea, my Lord,” said the little boy, coming forward, with a flush on his face, and a bold though wistful look, “but verily Richard is no traitor, be he who he may!” “That is not what we wished to ask of you,” said the Prince, too sad and earnest to be amused even for a moment. “Tell us whom you said, even now, you had seen in the tent you shared with him in Africa.” “I said I had seen his wraith,” said John. No smile lighted upon the Prince’s features; they were as serious as those of the boy, as he commented, “His likeness—his exact likeness—you mean.” “Ay,” said the boy; “but Richard proved to me after, that it had been less tall, and was bearded likewise. So I hoped it did not bode him ill.” “Worse, I fear, than if it had in sooth been his double,” said Gloucester to Prince Edmund. The Prince added the question whether this visitor had spoken; and John related the inquiry for Richard by the name of Montfort, and his own reply, which elicited a murmur of amused applause among the bystanders.