"You shall have it right willingly," replied Richard, in the frankest tone possible. "It shall be drawn out in due form, and receive our own sign manual. Can I refuse anything to so tried a friend?--Nevertheless, my most dear lord, I will beseech you not to proceed hastily," he continued with a significant nod of the head. "Delay the marriage a little, at my request. We would be present at it ourselves, I and the queen; and, moreover, I have intentions--I have intentions----" He paused, looking in Lord Calverly's face, with a bland smile, and then added: "Who knows what name you may be called upon to write, my lord? It may not be Calverly then. Coronets will change their forms sometimes; and we do not bind our brows always with the same cap. Delay a little, delay a little! At the present moment sad thoughts possess me, and I have not your philosophy to combat them. There are many important matters to do. The succession to the crown must be settled; and we shall need all your wise counsels, in graver things than marriages and merrymakings. Delay a little, delay a little, my right good friend." "Your highness is too gracious," replied Lord Calverly, with a shining and radiant look. "Your commands are law but there is one other subject I must bring before you, a matter touching your royal throne and dignity." "Indeed!" exclaimed Richard. "What may that be?" "All men know, my royal lord," said the old nobleman, in an oratorical tone, "that your highness's devout reverence for the church is not to be questioned, that religion, as one may say, is not in you, as in other men, a matter acquired by mere learning and meditation, but a part and principle of your own royal nature. Now my sister, the abbess of St. Clare of Atherston, whose conduct in her high charge has deserved and received the praises of all men, and especially of our holy father, has commissioned me to state to your highness, the fact, that the abbey--an abbey of nuns be it remembered, filled with young and delicate women, vowed to seclusion and prayer--was surrounded on the night of Wednesday last by a body of rude soldiery, under the command of one Sir John Godscroft, who, upon pretence of seeking for a deserter, insisted upon admission, notwithstanding her warning that the place was sanctuary. The whole building was searched; and not only that, but the priest's house and many of the cottages on the green, belonging to the servitors of the abbey, were burned to the ground." Richard's brow grew as black as night; and, setting his teeth hard together, he rose and walked up and down the room, muttering to himself-- "This must be repressed. This must be repressed." "Let your highness conceive," persisted Lord Calverly, following him a step or two behind, "only conceive what a condition these poor nuns were in, roused out of bed by these rude men, in the middle of the night." A grim smile came upon the king's handsome face; and he replied--