"You shall have full time, sir knight," replied the King; "at present, it is late; and though we must sleep but little, yet some repose every man must have. Your tale cannot be heard to-night. However, you now know that you are charged first with refusing to serve your King in arms against his enemies, which may, perhaps, be false. This paper affords some presumption against the accusation--Secondly, you are charged with following our royal host with men of Burgundy, and in arms levying war against your Sovereign. You have, we are told, been seen by many, so traitorously employed, and your name, you yourself allow, is in the mouths of all the peasantry."

Henry paused a moment, as if expecting assent; but Woodville only replied by a question, "May I ask, Sire," he said, "if a certain Sir Simeon of Roydon is in your host?"

"Ha!" cried the King, his face lighting up, "what would you say on that score?"

"Simply that I have suspicions, mighty Prince," replied the young knight; "but I will charge no man without proof. These two charges are false, and I will make it manifest they are so; first by testimony; then by my arm. Is there aught else against me?"

"Alas, there is," answered the King; "and the most grave of all. Have you brought that letter which I sent for, my lord?"

"Yes, Sire," replied the Earl of Arundel, stepping forward and placing a paper in the King's hands. "That is the one your Grace meant, I believe."

"The same," answered Henry, gazing upon it with a countenance both stern and sad. "Come forward, Sir Richard of Woodville. Is this your hand-writing?"

Woodville looked at it, and recognised at once the letter which he had written to Sir John Grey whilst in prison. "It is, my Liege," he replied boldly, looking in the King's face with surprise. "I wrote that letter; but I know not how it can affect me."

"That will be proved hereafter, sir," answered the King, in a stern tone; "but remember, I have doomed my own blood to death for the acts which this letter prompted; and, by my honour and my life, I will not spare the man that wrote it. According to the right of every Englishman, you shall be tried and judged by your peers; but when the axe struck the neck of Cambridge, it crushed out the name of mercy from my heart. In me you find no grace."

"My Lord, I need none," replied Richard of Woodville, in a tone firm, yet respectful, "for I have done no wrong. I never yet did hear that there was any crime in a captive writing to a friend for ransom. This letter prompted nothing; and I am in much surprise to hear your royal words announce therein a matter of complaint against me."