For nearly a month, the old man haunted the palace, and watched in thegardens for the little Prince until he knew the daily routine of his tinylife with his nurses and governesses.

He saw that when the Lady Maud accompanied him, they were wont to repair tothe farthermost extremities of the palace grounds where, by a littlepostern gate, she admitted a certain officer of the Guards to whom theQueen had forbidden the privilege of the court.

There, in a secluded bower, the two lovers whispered their hopes and plans,unmindful of the royal charge playing neglected among the flowers andshrubbery of the garden.

Toward the middle of July De Vac had his plans well laid. He had managedto coax old Brus, the gardener, into letting him have the key to the littlepostern gate on the plea that he wished to indulge in a midnight escapade,hinting broadly of a fair lady who was to be the partner of his adventure,and, what was more to the point with Brus, at the same time slipping acouple of golden zecchins into the gardener's palm.

Brus, like the other palace servants, considered De Vac a loyal retainer ofthe house of Plantagenet. Whatever else of mischief De Vac might be up to,Brus was quite sure that in so far as the King was concerned, the key tothe postern gate was as safe in De Vac's hands as though Henry himself hadit.

The old fellow wondered a little that the morose old master of fenceshould, at his time in life, indulge in frivolous escapades more befittingthe younger sprigs of gentility, but, then, what concern was it of his ?Did he not have enough to think about to keep the gardens so that his royalmaster and mistress might find pleasure in the shaded walks, the well-keptsward, and the gorgeous beds of foliage plants and blooming flowers whichhe set with such wondrous precision in the formal garden ?

Further, two gold zecchins were not often come by so easily as this; and ifthe dear Lord Jesus saw fit, in his infinite wisdom, to take this means ofrewarding his poor servant, it ill became such a worm as he to ignore thedivine favor. So Brus took the gold zecchins and De Vac the key, and thelittle prince played happily among the flowers of his royal father'sgarden, and all were satisfied; which was as it should have been.

That night, De Vac took the key to a locksmith on the far side of London;one who could not possibly know him or recognize the key as belonging tothe palace. Here he had a duplicate made, waiting impatiently while theold man fashioned it with the crude instruments of his time.

From this little shop, De Vac threaded his way through the dirty lanes andalleys of ancient London, lighted at far intervals by an occasional smokylantern, until he came to a squalid tenement but a short distance from thepalace.

A narrow alley ran past the building, ending abruptly at the bank of theThames in a moldering wooden dock, beneath which the inky waters of theriver rose and fell, lapping the decaying piles and surging far beneath thedock to the remote fastnesses inhabited by the great fierce dock rats andtheir fiercer human antitypes.

Several times De Vac paced the length of this black alley in search of thelittle doorway of the building he sought. At length he came upon it, and,after repeated pounding with the pommel of his sword, it was opened by aslatternly old hag.

"What would ye of a decent woman at such an ungodly hour ?" she grumbled."Ah, 'tis ye, my lord ?" she added, hastily, as the flickering rays of thecandle she bore lighted up De Vac's face. "Welcome, my Lord, thricewelcome. The daughter of the devil welcomes her brother."

"Silence, old hag," cried De Vac. "Is it not enough that you leech me ofgood marks of such a quantity that you may ever after wear mantles ofvillosa and feast on simnel bread and malmsey, that you must needs burdenme still further with the affliction of thy vile tongue ?

"Hast thou the clothes ready bundled and the key, also, to this gate toperdition ? And the room: didst set to rights the furnishings I haddelivered here, and sweep the century-old accumulation of filth and cobwebsfrom the floor and rafters ? Why, the very air reeked of the dead Romanswho builded London twelve hundred years ago. Methinks, too, from thestink, they must have been Roman swineherd who habited this sty with theirherds, an' I venture that thou, old sow, hast never touched broom to theplace for fear of disturbing the ancient relics of thy kin."

"Cease thy babbling, Lord Satan," cried the woman. "I would rather hearthy money talk than thou, for though it come accursed and tainted from thyrogue hand, yet it speaks with the same sweet and commanding voice as itwere fresh from the coffers of the holy church.

"The bundle is ready," she continued, closing the door after De Vac, whohad now entered, "and here be the key; but first let us have a payment. Iknow not what thy foul work may be, but foul it is I know from the secrecywhich you have demanded, an' I dare say there will be some who would paywell to learn the whereabouts of the old woman and the child, thy sisterand her son you tell me they be, who you are so anxious to hide away in oldTil's garret. So it be well for you, my Lord, to pay old Til well and adda few guilders for the peace of her tongue if you would that your prisonerfind peace in old Til's house."

"Fetch me the bundle, hag," replied De Vac, "and you shall have goldagainst a final settlement; more even than we bargained for if all goeswell and thou holdest thy vile tongue."

But the old woman's threats had already caused De Vac a feeling ofuneasiness, which would have been reflected to an exaggerated degree in theold woman had she known the determination her words had caused in the mindof the old master of fence.

His venture was far too serious, and the results of exposure too fraughtwith danger, to permit of his taking any chances with a disloyalfellow-conspirator. True, he had not even hinted at the enormity of theplot in which he was involving the old woman, but, as she had said, hisstern commands for secrecy had told enough to arouse her suspicions, andwith them her curiosity and cupidity. So it was that old Til might wellhave quailed in her tattered sandals had she but even vaguely guessed thethoughts which passed in De Vac's mind; but the extra gold pieces hedropped into her withered palm as she delivered the bundle to him, togetherwith the promise of more, quite effectually won her loyalty and her silencefor the time being.

Slipping the key into the pocket of his tunic and covering the bundle withhis long surcoat, De Vac stepped out into the darkness of the alley andhastened toward the dock.

Beneath the planks. he found a skiff which he had moored there earlier inthe evening, and underneath one of the thwarts he hid the bundle. Then,casting off, he rowed slowly up the Thames until, below the palace walls,he moored near to the little postern gate which let into the lower end ofthe garden.

Hiding the skiff as best he could in some tangled bushes which grew to thewater's edge, set there by order of the King to add to the beauty of theaspect from the river side, De Vac crept warily to the postern and,unchallenged, entered and sought his apartments in the palace.

The next day, he returned the original key to Brus, telling the old manthat he had not used it after all, since mature reflection had convincedhim of the folly of his contemplated adventure, especially in one whoseyouth was past, and in whose joints the night damp of the Thames might findlodgement for rheumatism.

"Ha, Sir Jules," laughed the old gardener, "Virtue and Vice be twin sisterswho come running to do the bidding of the same father, Desire. Were thereno desire there would be no virtue, and because one man desires whatanother does not, who shall say whether the child of his desire be vice orvirtue ? Or on the other hand if my friend desires his own wife and ifthat be virtue, then if I also desire his wife, is not that likewisevirtue, since we desire the same thing ? But if to obtain our desire it benecessary to expose our joints to the Thames' fog, then it were virtue toremain at home."

"Right you sound, old mole," said De Vac, smiling, "would that I mightlearn to reason by your wondrous logic; methinks it might stand me in goodstead before I be much older."

"The best sword arm in all Christendom needs no other logic than the sword,I should think," said Brus, returning to his work.

That afternoon, De Vac stood in a window of the armory looking out upon thebeautiful garden which spread before him to the river wall two hundredyards away. In the foreground were box-bordered walks, smooth, sleeklawns, and formal beds of gorgeous flowering plants, while here and theremarble statues of wood nymph and satyr gleamed, sparkling in the brilliantsunlight, or, half shaded by an overhanging bush, took on a semblance oflife from the riotous play of light and shadow as the leaves above themmoved to and fro in the faint breeze. Farther in the distance, the riverwall was hidden by more closely massed bushes, and the formal, geometricprecision of the nearer view was relieved by a background of vine-coloredbowers, and a profusion of small trees and flowering shrubs arranged instudied disorder.

Through this seeming jungle ran tortuous paths, and the carved stonebenches of the open garden gave place to rustic seats, and swings suspendedfrom the branches of fruit trees.

Toward this enchanting spot slowly were walking the Lady Maud and herlittle charge, Prince Richard; all ignorant of the malicious watcher in thewindow behind them.

A great peacock strutted proudly across the walk before them, and, asRichard ran, childlike, after it, Lady Maud hastened on to the littlepostern gate which she quickly unlocked, admitting her lover, who had beenwaiting without. Relocking the gate the two strolled arm in arm to thelittle bower which was their trysting place.

As the lovers talked, all self-engrossed, the little Prince played happilyabout among the trees and flowers, and none saw the stern, determined facewhich peered through the foliage at a little distance from the playing boy.

Richard was devoting his royal energies to chasing an elusive butterflywhich fate led nearer and nearer to the cold, hard watcher in the bushes.Closer and closer came the little Prince, and in another moment, he hadburst through the flowering shrubs, and stood facing the implacable masterof fence.

"Your Highness," said De Vac, bowing to the little fellow, "let old DeVachelp you catch the pretty insect."

Richard, having often seen De Vac, did not fear him, and so together theystarted in pursuit of the butterfly which by now had passed out of sight.De Vac turned their steps toward the little postern gate, but when he wouldhave passed through with the tiny Prince, the latter rebelled.

"Come, My Lord Prince," urged De Vac, "methinks the butterfly did butalight without the wall, we can have it and return within the garden in aninstant."

"Go thyself and fetch it," replied the Prince; "the King, my father, hasforbid me stepping without the palace grounds."

"Come," commanded De Vac, more sternly, "no harm can come to you."

But the child hung back and would not go with him so that De Vac was forcedto grasp him roughly by the arm. There was a cry of rage and alarm fromthe royal child.

"Unhand me, sirrah," screamed the boy. "How dare you lay hands on a princeof England ?"

De Vac clapped his hand over the child's mouth to still his cries, but itwas too late. The Lady Maud and her lover had heard and, in an instant,they were rushing toward the postern gate, the officer drawing his sword ashe ran.

When they reached the wall, De Vac and the Prince were upon the outside,and the Frenchman had closed and was endeavoring to lock the gate. But,handicapped by the struggling boy, he had not time to turn the key beforethe officer threw himself against the panels and burst out before themaster of fence, closely followed by the Lady Maud.

De Vac dropped the key and, still grasping the now thoroughly affrightenedPrince with his left hand, drew his sword and confronted the officer.

There were no words, there was no need of words; De Vac's intentions weretoo plain to necessitate any parley, so the two fell upon each other withgrim fury; the brave officer facing the best swordsman that France had everproduced in a futile attempt to rescue his young prince.

In a moment, De Vac had disarmed him, but, contrary to the laws ofchivalry, he did not lower his point until it had first plunged through theheart of his brave antagonist. Then, with a bound, he leaped between LadyMaud and the gate, so that she could not retreat into the garden and givethe alarm.

Still grasping the trembling child in his iron grip, he stood facing thelady in waiting, his back against the door.

"Mon Dieu, Sir Jules," she cried, "hast thou gone mad ?"

"No, My Lady," he answered, "but I had not thought to do the work which nowlies before me. Why didst thou not keep a still tongue in thy head and lethis patron saint look after the welfare of this princeling ? Your rashnesshas brought you to a pretty pass, for it must be either you or I, My Lady,and it cannot be I. Say thy prayers and compose thyself for death."

Henry III, King of England, sat in his council chamber surrounded by thegreat lords and nobles who composed his suit. He awaited Simon deMontfort, Earl of Leicester, whom he had summoned that he might heap stillfurther indignities upon him with the intention of degrading andhumiliating him that he might leave England forever. The King feared thismighty kinsman who so boldly advised him against the weak follies whichwere bringing his kingdom to a condition of revolution.

What the outcome of this audience would have been none may say, forLeicester had but just entered and saluted his sovereign when there came aninterruption which drowned the petty wrangles of king and courtier in acommon affliction that touched the hearts of all.

There was a commotion at one side of the room, the arras parted, andEleanor, Queen of England, staggered toward the throne, tears streamingdown her pale cheeks.

"Oh, My Lord ! My Lord !' she cried, "Richard, our son, has beenassassinated and thrown into the Thames."

In an instant, all was confusion and turmoil, and it was with the greatestdifficulty that the King finally obtained a coherent statement from hisqueen.

It seemed that when the Lady Maud had not returned to the palace withPrince Richard at the proper time, the Queen had been notified and animmediate search had been instituted -- a search which did not end for overtwenty years; but the first fruits of it turned the hearts of the court tostone, for there beside the open postern gate lay the dead bodies of LadyMaud and a certain officer of the Guards, but nowhere was there a sign ortrace of Prince Richard, second son of Henry III of England, and at thattime the youngest prince of the realm.

It was two days before the absence of De Vac was noted, and then it wasthat one of the lords in waiting to the King reminded his majesty of theepisode of the fencing bout, and a motive for the abduction of the King'slittle son became apparent.

An edict was issued requiring the examination of every child in England,for on the left breast of the little Prince was a birthmark which closelyresembled a lily and, when after a year no child was found bearing such amark and no trace of De Vac uncovered, the search was carried into France,nor was it ever wholly relinquished at any time for more than twenty years.

The first theory, of assassination, was quickly abandoned when it wassubjected to the light of reason, for it was evident that an assassin couldhave dispatched the little Prince at the same time that he killed the LadyMaud and her lover, had such been his desire.

The most eager factor in the search for Prince Richard was Simon deMontfort, Earl of Leicester, whose affection for his royal nephew hadalways been so marked as to have been commented upon by the members of theKing's household.

Thus for a time the rupture between De Montfort and his king was healed,and although the great nobleman was divested of his authority in Gascony,he suffered little further oppression at the hands of his royal master.