"I almost wondered myself, my lord," said Hugh de Monthermer; "for my request was coupled with a remonstrance against your imprisonment."
"And yet," added the Prince, "you will remonstrate, but not aid to free me."
"My lord, I cannot, without treason," replied Hugh de Monthermer.
"Treason to whom?" demanded Edward, somewhat sharply. "Treason to the land, my lord," answered Hugh de Monthermer, "and to those rights which I know, when you are king, you will yourself willingly respect. I do beseech you, my dear lord, press me not harshly on a matter where I can make but one reply. You are here by the will of four-and-twenty noble gentlemen, appointed lawfully----"
"And by the mise of Lewes," added the Prince, bitterly--"but say no more, Monthermer; I do believe that if your voice might prevail, I should soon be at liberty."
"Upon my life, you would," replied the young nobleman; "indeed, you never should have been otherwise, for I would have taken your word--your plighted word--to maintain the rights of Englishmen, and to aid in no act against them, and would have set you free at once."
"Well, it matters not," answered the Prince; "perhaps it is better as it is. I know not what I might have promised to buy my liberty, if men had asked me; but now, though fettered in body, I am at large in mind, and events may yet come to open stronger doors than that.--How fares it with your good uncle?" he continued. "He has been somewhat harsh and sudden with his king, but still he is a noble gentleman, and one of whom England may well be proud."
Hugh de Monthermer answered in general terms; and the conversation, having then taken a turn away from painful subjects of discussion, reverted pleasantly to brighter themes. Their boyish hours rose up before their eyes--the sports, the pastimes--the gay thoughts and heedless jests of youth were recollected--Edward's countenance unbent, his eyes sparkled, his lips smiled, the prison and its cares were forgotten; and for the time he seemed to live once more in the sweet early days of which they spoke.
The conversation proceeded almost entirely between the Prince and Hugh de Monthermer, for though Thomas de Clare added a word or two now and then, they were but few, and only served to break through one of those momentary pauses which would have given thought time to return from the pleasant past to the sad present.
The sun was, as I have said, going down when Hugh de Monthermer entered the Prince's chamber, and ere he had been there half an hour, the bright orb had sunk beneath the horizon; but in these northern climes, Heaven has vouchsafed to us a blessing which brighter lands do not possess--the long, soft twilight of the summer evening--and the sky was still full of light, so that one might have read with ease in the high chamber of the Prince, nearly half an hour after the star of day had disappeared. It was just at that moment that Hugh, who was sitting with his face towards the door, saw it open slowly, and a beautiful girl, dressed in somewhat gay and sparkling attire, even for those gaudy times, entered with a noiseless step, bearing a small basket in her hands.