"Come, my child," he said, "leave this chamber till you are somewhat more mistress of your sorrow."
But she would not leave the room. "Oh, no!" she replied, "let me stay here, my father! I will not weep any more. Let me care for my brother Adolf. Those fervent prayers which he has himself taught me, will I pour out for him by his bedside."
And thus saying, she took the cushion from a chair, laid it on the floor at the head of the bed, and, kneeling on it, began to pray silently, while suppressed sobs burst from her breast, and her eyes overflowed with tears.
Robert de Bethune remained till far on in the night by Adolf's bedside, hoping to see him come somewhat to himself. His hopes were, however, in vain; the wounded man breathed feebly and slowly; nor was there the slightest movement perceptible either in limbs or body. Master Roger, too, began to fear seriously for his life; for a slight fever had made its appearance, and the sufferer's temples already began to burn.
Those of the nobles who were present at the conference and were not lodged in the castle had already taken their departure, not without a feeling of contentment at what had happened; for, as true knights, they rejoiced at having an opportunity of once more doing their old prince a pleasure and a service. Such of them as were the Count's guests betook themselves to their bedchambers. Two hours later not a sound was to be heard at Wynandael but the call of the sentinels, the baying of the dogs, and the screech of the night-owl.
CHAPTER IV
The journey which, at the suggestion of Charles de Valois, Count Guy was about to undertake, was a matter of no little risk, both to himself personally and to the whole land of Flanders; for there was only too much reason to believe that the King of France would think all measures good which might secure to him as long as possible the possession of those wealthy provinces.
Philip the Fair and his wife, Joanna of Navarre, had, in order to provide funds for their reckless prodigality, drawn, so to say, all the money of the realm into the treasury; yet for all this, the enormous sums which they extracted from the people did not suffice for their insatiable wants. His unprincipled ministers, above all Enguerrand de Marigny, daily incited the king to levying fresh taxes, raising the already exorbitant salt-duty, and laying the most intolerable burdens on all three estates of the realm, regardless of the murmurs of the people and the frequent symptoms of armed resistance. Again and again he expelled the Jews from France, in order to make them pay enormous sums for permission to return; and at last, when every other means was exhausted, he resorted to the plan of debasing the coin of the realm.
This debasement of the coinage was a desperate and ruinous expedient; for the merchants, not choosing to part with their wares for mere worthless counters, left the kingdom; the people fell into poverty, the taxes could not be levied, and the king found himself in a most critical position. Flanders meanwhile flourished by the industry of its inhabitants. All the trading nations of Europe and Asia regarded it as their second country, and carried their goods to its cities, as to the universal market-place of the world. At Bruges alone more money and goods changed hands than in the whole of France; the city was, in truth, a very mine of wealth. This did not escape Philip's observation, and for some years he had been occupied with plans for bringing the land of Flanders into his own possession. First he had laid down impossible conditions to Count Guy, in order to drive him into contumacy; then he had arrested and imprisoned his daughter Philippa; and at last he had overrun and seized upon Flanders by force of arms.
Nothing of all this had escaped the old Count's consideration, nor did he in truth conceal from himself the possible consequences of his journey; but his grief on account of his younger daughter's imprisonment was such as Induced him to reject no means, however desperate, which might possibly lead to her release. Doubtless, too, the safe conduct promised by Charles de Valois had tended considerably to reassure him.
And now the old Count set out, with his sons, Robert and William, and fifty Flemish nobles; Charles de Valois, and a great number of French knights, accompanying them on the journey.
Arrived at Compiegne, the Count and his nobles were sumptuously lodged and entertained by the Count de Valois, until such times as he should be able to arrange for their admittance to the king's presence. This magnanimous prince, moreover, so well used his influence with his brother, that the latter was quite inclined to fall into his views with respect to the Count of Flanders, whom he accordingly caused to be summoned before him, at his royal palace.
The Count was introduced Into a large and splendid hall, at the other end of which stood a throne, with a canopy of blue velvet wrought with golden lilies, and hangings of the like falling on each side to the ground; a carpet, richly embroidered with gold and silver, covered the steps which led up to this magnificent seat. Philip the Fair was pacing up and down the hall with his son, Louis Hutin, that is, the "quarrelsome"; behind them followed many French nobles, and among them one to whom the king often addressed his conversation. This favorite was Messire de Nogaret, the same who at Philip's command had ventured to arrest Pope Boniface, with circumstances of special contumely.
As soon as Count Guy was announced, the king retired to the steps of the throne, without, however, mounting
