"And what course wouldst thou advise me to pursue, that I may succeed in releasing the little Duke from his involuntary imprisonment?" asked Richard, speaking to the Cardinal.
"Ah! your Royal Highness, it may be very difficult, indeed, to change the mind of the Queen. Thou knowest as well as I how wilful is her Majesty, when she hath once made up her mind."
"Let her not dare to match her strength against me," cried Gloucester, who now spoke more freely, as the King had left the room. "By Saint Paul! if she doth not hand the boy over unto his legal protector I shall be compelled to take him by force, which I do not like to do."
"Ah! good my lord, commit not the sin of using force on those who have taken refuge in God's place of protection, where the vilest criminal need fear no harm!" cried both the Churchmen, with one voice.
"Yes," returned Richard, with his cunning smile, "but, most reverend sirs, the Duke of York hath committed no offence, and therefore he has not the rights of Sanctuary; and, on that account, the Queen must expect force, if she consents not to return him when politely requested, by two such worshipful gentlemen, to do so."
If the Churchmen were looking for some excuse to enable them to agree with Richard they now had found one. "Ah! your Royal Highness, who but thyself could have thought of such a reason?"
"Who indeed?" thought I, but with a different meaning.
"The point is well taken," consented the Bishop of York. "The Prince, thy nephew, having committed no sin, has—under the customs of Holy Church—no right nor reason for taking Sanctuary; and besides," he continued, "I understand that he hath no desire to remain in seclusion, and is but detained there by her Majesty, his mother."
"This she hath no right to do," broke in Richard. "Was not I appointed the protector of these children, by my Royal brother? And does the Queen take it upon herself thus to assume mine office?" With this Gloucester arose and walked back and forth across the room; his left arm drawn up, and his thumb stuck in his belt, as was his usual custom. With his right hand he played with his dagger; drawing it partly from its richly jewelled sheath, and then returning it with a sharp "snick," thus keeping time with his limping step. As he walked he kept up a continual string of sharp speeches against the Queen, like the discharge from a company of archers, each arrow having its mark to strike. "Ha! Saint Paul, one might think the Protector of England an office of but little weight. Old Louis will have grand amusement at our expense. The King's brother not at the coronation, but hidden away, as though his Majesty were a tyrant. 'Tis monstrous! And the sacrilege of this act. A boy, not yet nine years of age, which could never have committed an offence, hidden in a house of God as though it were a fortress. Ha! my Lord Cardinal," said he, as he stopped suddenly before that most reverend gentleman, "the slight is as great to thee as it is to me. What sayst thou? Shall we submit meekly, whilst others walk over us and break the laws of our several charges; or shall we demand the person of the Duke, and, if he be not handed over gently, then rescue him by force?"
"Most certainly I do agree with his Royal Highness, and think 'tis an outrage for the Queen to take the stand she hath," said the Bishop, who evidently desired to curry favor with Gloucester by agreeing with him. "Of course," he added, methought a little nervously, "if her Majesty consents to quietly restore the little Duke, so much the better; then no precedent need be set for using force to obtain those which have taken refuge in a Sanctuary."