'How, Sir!' cried Patrick; 'you a prisoner of England, yet speaking
against our noble French allies, so foully trampled on?'

'I have lived long enough in England,' returned Sir James, 'to think that
land happiest where law is strong enough to enforce peace and order.'

'The coward loons!' muttered Patrick, chiefly out of the spirit of
opposition.

'You have been long in England, Sir?' said Lilias, hoping to direct the
conversation into a more peaceful current.

'Many years, fair lady,' he replied, turning courteously to her; 'I was
taken when I was a mere lad, but I have had gentle captors, and no over
harsh prison.'

'And has no one ransomed you?' she asked pitifully, as one much moved by
a certain patience on his brow, and in his sweet full voice.

'No one, lady. My uncle was but too willing that the heir should be kept
aloof; and it is only now he is dead, that I have obtained leave from my
friendly captor to come in search of my ransom.'

Lilias would have liked to know the amount, but it was not manners to
ask, since the rate of ransom was the personal value of the knight; and
her uncle put in the question, who was his keeper.

'The Earl of Somerset,' rather hastily answered Sir James; and then at
once Lilias exclaimed, 'Ah, Uncle, is not the King, too, in his charge?'
And then questions crowded on. 'What like is the King? How brooks he