"What good sort of people the Flemings are!" exclaimed they gratefully.
Meanwhile, the Earl of Northampton and the Earl of Arundel, having been sent into Flanders, made all arrangements in the most skilful manner. In vain the Duke of Brabant threw obstacles in the way, invoked the interference of Philip of Valois, and did everything in his power to put a stop to these negociations. The Flemings were neither to be coaxed nor coerced from following their project; and at length it was agreed that a conference should take place between the King and Queen of England and the Count of Flanders, attended by the chief men of the country. Bergues St. Vinox was fixed upon as the place of meeting, and thither from Calais went the king and queen with a brilliant train and in great state, to take their prospective son-in-law by the hand.
On reaching the place appointed for their conference, the King and Queen of England found the Count of Flanders, who, with the leading men of the chief towns, had come with great pomp to bring the business to a conclusion. Courteous salutations having passed, King Edward took the count aside, and spoke to the boy of the death of his father at Cressy.
"As God shall help me," said the king solemnly, "I never heard, on the day of the battle, that the Count of Flanders was among my foes, nor on the morrow that he had been there."
With this assurance the young count appeared satisfied, and the subject of the marriage was, without delay, introduced. No dispute arose; and, certain articles having been agreed on and sworn to, the Count of Flanders was formally betrothed to Isabel of England, and engaged to espouse her at an early date. The day, indeed, was put off till King Edward should have more leisure. But the king and the count separated apparently in high good-humour with each other, and no doubt was entertained that, at an early period, the marriage would be celebrated with a pomp and splendour becoming the rank of the parties.
It was while the king and queen were absent at this conference, that I, lounging listlessly about the camp, met Sir Thomas Norwich, with whom I had recently become as friendly and familiar as our different ages and ranks would admit of our being. Many a time the good knight had spoken jocularly of my encounter with the Count of Flanders, and now he resumed the subject, which, at the moment, was by no means the most agreeable in the world.
"Boy Winram," said he, "you have been so far lucky in your career; but I fear me you will fall into the background, now that this count is coming to wed the king's daughter."
"By my hallidame!" replied I, "such is the thought that haunts me. But change of fortune seems to be the lot of human beings all over the world; and Fortune, who so frequently turns her wheel against princes and men of high rank, also condescends at times to play her tricks with those of lower degree. So I submit. But of one thing, sir knight, connected with this affair, I feel fully assured."
"What?"
"That Louis of Flanders has a French heart, and that he will never take the hand of an English bride with hearty good-will."