And on that morning Edward left them. Constance could not understand why he did not go with them to Cardiff. He was determined not to do so; and to the disappointment of every one, he induced his brother to accompany him. Richard would rather have stayed; but he had been too long accustomed to obey the stronger will of his brother to begin the assertion of his own. The yielding character which he had inherited from his father prevailed; and however unwillingly, he followed Edward. On the morning of that last day's march, they had to traverse a narrow rocky pass. The path, though rough and stony, was tolerably level; and feeling themselves almost safe, they slackened their pace. They had just been laughing at some remark of little Roger's, and they were all in more or less good spirits, feeling so near the end of their perilous journey; when all at once, in a turn of the pass, the leading horse came to a sudden halt. "Stand, in the King's name!" Before them was a small, compact body of cavalry; and at their head, resplendent in official ermine, Sir William Hankeford, Judge of the King's Bench. Resistance and flight were equally impossible. Constance addressed herself to the old man whom she had cheated five years before, and who, having subsequently discovered her craftiness, had by no means forgotten it. "Sir William, you will do your commission; but I pray you remember that here be five of the King your master's cousins, and we claim to be used as such." The old Judge's eyes twinkled as he surveyed the royal lady. "So, Madam! Your Ladyship hath the right: my commission I shall do, and set the King my master's cousins in safe keeping--with a chimney-board clapped to the louvre," [chimney]. Constance fairly laughed. "Come, Sir, I should scantly play the same trick on you twice." "No, Madam, I will have a care you no do." "And for what look we, Sir William? May we know?" "Madam," said Hankeford drily, "you may look for what you shall find, and you may know so much as you be told." "We may bid farewell, trow?" "So it lie not over too much time." "Well! needs must, Nym," said Constance, turning to the boy who had so nearly worn the crown of England. "And after all, belike, it shall be worser for me than thee." "Nym won't care," spoke up little Roger boldly, "if my master yonder will let him lie till seven of the clock of a morrow." "Till nine, if it like him," said Sir William. "Then he'll be as happy as a king!" added little Roger. "Nay, you be all too young to care overmuch--save Nan," responded Constance, looking at Anne's white troubled face. "Poor maid! 'tis hard for thee." "I can bear what God sendeth, Madam," said Anne in a low voice. "Well said, brave heart!" answered Constance, only half understanding her. "The blessed saints aid thee so to do!--Now, Sir William, dispose of us."