entered warmly into De Faro's idea of hastening to the sea-coast, and of sailing direct for Spain. "In a few years you will be a man—in a few years"
"Forgotten! Yes—I may go; but a few months shall mark my return. I go on one condition; that you, Clifford, watch for the return of my cousin, Sir Edmund, and direct him where to find me."
"I will not fail. Sir Mariner, whither are you bound?"
"To Malaga."
And now, urged and quickened by Clifford, who promised to attend to all that this sudden resolve left incomplete, the few arrangements for their departure were made. Favoured by night, and the prince's perfect knowledge of the country, they were speedily on their way to Ostend. Clifford returned to Lisle, to mark and enjoy Frion's rage and Fitzwater's confusion, when, on the morrow, the quarry was found to have stolen from its lair. Without a moment's delay, the secretary followed, he hoped, upon his track: he directed his steps to Brussels. A letter meanwhile from Ostend, carefully worded, informed Clifford of the arrival and embarkation of his friends; again he was reminded of Plantagenet; nor had he long to wait before he fulfilled this last commission.
Edmund had found the Lady Margaret glad to receive tidings of her nephew; eager to ensure his safety and careful bringing-up, but dispirited by the late overthrow, and deeply grieved by the death of the noble and beloved Lincoln: no attack could now be made; it would be doubly dangerous to bring forward the young Richard at this juncture. She commissioned Plantagenet to accompany him to Brussels that she might see him; and then they could confer upon some fitting plan for the privacy and security of his future life, until maturer age fitted him to enter on his destined struggles.
Edmund returned with brightened hopes to Tournay, to find the cottage deserted, his friends gone. It may easily be imagined that this unexpected blank was a source of terror, almost of despair to the adventurer. He feared to ask questions, and when he did propound a few, the answers only increased his perplexity and fears. It was not until his third hopeless visit to the empty dwelling, that he met a stripling page, who, with an expression of slyness in his face, spoke the watchword of the friends of York. Edmund gladly exchanged the countersign, and then the boy asked him, whether he called himself cousin to the fugitive duke of York, laughing the while at the consternation his auditor exhibited at the utterance of this hidden and sacred word: "You come to seek your prince," he continued,
