‘We have done it!’ cried Mortimer.

‘Not yet, my lord,’ replied Alspaye. ‘We have escaped from the Tower? no

mean feat, I agree. But we cannot boast of our success until we are safe in France.’

Indeed they had good friends. The horses were waiting for them— fresh and

ready for the journey, with seven men from Mortimer’s household attending

them.

This was indeed good fortune.

‘My lord,’ said Alspaye, ‘you have friends who love you dearly.’

‘Or mayhap hate the Despensers,’ replied Mortimer. They rode through the

night until they reached the coast of Hampshire.

Out at sea lay a ship. It was the one which would take them to France.

It was not difficult to hire a small boat.

Mortimer bade his men be cautious for by this time it might well be that his escape had been discovered and warning given to look out for anyone leaving for the Continent.

‘Tell them,’ he said, ‘that we want a small boat to go to the Isle of Wight.’

This was done, the boat procured and very soon it was skimming across the

water.

Mortimer boarded the big ship. The Captain who had been waiting for him

gave orders to sail as soon as the tide and winds were favourable.

Later that day Roger de Mortimer and Gerard de Alspaye landed in France.

As they drank wine in a riverside tavern and congratulated themselves on

their good fortune, Mortimer said: ‘We have come so far. Now the real work begins.’

THE QUEEN PLOTS

EDWARD was in Lancashire when a messenger arrived from London with

the news that Roger de Mortimer had escaped from the Tower.

A fury seized him. He realized at once that he should never have allowed

this to happen. Oh what a stupid thing to have done! To have allowed Mortimer to keep his head.

It was because dear Hugh had not been with him at the time of Mortimer’s

capture, and Mortimer had been in the Tower by the time Hugh was back. Hugh was so clever. He foresaw disaster. And now Mortimer was free!

Hugh came in to see him and was clearly perturbed by the news when he

heard it.

‘Never mind, sweet lord, we need not fear him. We shall stand against him

and all his Marcher barons.’

‘I know, Hugh, I know. But to think he was allowed to get away from the

Tower. What could have happened?’

‘The feast of St Peter ad Vincula was it? You know what these people are.

Give them a chance to carouse? and they forget their duty.’

‘Someone should answer for this.’

‘They will, dear lord, they will.’

When they learned something of how the escape had taken place they were

even more disturbed.

‘He could only have done it with help from within,’ declared Hugh.

‘Help from within and without!’ agreed the King. ‘It would appear we have

enemies.’

Hugh smiled sadly. Enemies! They surrounded him and they were the

King’s enemies because of him.

Never mind, the King was his very dear friend; he could not do enough for

his beloved Hugh. They were together through the days and nights and Hugh

and his father were becoming the richest men in England. It was so rewarding to have royal patronage and when that patronage grew out of a doting fondness then indeed a man was fortunate.

‘He will have gone to the Marcher country, I’ll swear,’ said Edward.

‘His home of course. That is where he will rally support.’

‘Let us plan a campaign to the Welsh coast. We’ll get him, Hugh, and this

time it will not be a dungeon in the Tower for him.’

‘He is a handsome man, that Mortimer,’ mused Hugh, ‘but I doubt he will be so handsome without his head.’

Meanwhile Mortimer, having landed safely in Normandy, was on his way to

Paris.

???????

By great good fortune Isabella’s involvement in the escape of Mortimer did not occur to her husband. There had been some in the Tower who had seen the meeting between the pair and the Queen’s connection with Alspaye who was

now branded a traitor as it was soon discovered that he had escaped with

Mortimer. Adam of Orlton, too, was suspected as the outside influence who had helped to make the escape possible. No doubt it seemed incredible that Isabella should have taken a hand in the affair, and it was presumed to be merely a coin-cidence that she had happened to be in the Palace of the Tower at the time.

However her attitude towards the King had changed. She made it clear that

she wanted no more intimacy with him. Not that he pressed that. It had only occurred because of the need to give the country heirs. They had stalwart

Edward who was nearly thirteen years old and growing conscious of coming

responsibilities.

They, will come sooner than you think, my son, thought Isabella grimly.

For the rest of the children she had little time to spare. That they were well and happy was all she wanted to know. Young Edward was her concern and she did make a point of being often with him.

Her great desire was to get to France, to join Mortimer, and to begin the plan of action which was to depose her husband.

She could tell herself that she had right on her side. The country was going from bad to worse. The Despensers were an evil influence. Edward and his

hated favourites must go. Isabella visualized an ideal state of affairs with her and Mortimer ruling through young Edward.

She was beginning to build up a little coterie about her— all enemies of

Despenser, all with the same grievances against the King, and since the Queen had suffered more humiliation than any through this unfortunate liaison, it was to her they were beginning to look. They all had one aim in common, to destroy the Despensers who, it was believed, were at the very heart of the King’s

unworthy kingship— just as in the earlier years of his reign Gaveston had been.

Thomas Earl of Lancaster was remembered and it was beginning to be said

that he had been wrongfully treated. He had been humiliated and beheaded in a manner very unseemly for one in his position. Stories about his goodness—

which had little foundation in truth— were circulated about him. Isabella could scarcely believe her ears when she heard that he had been called a saint. It was not long before miracles were being said to be performed at his grave.

His brother Henry, now Earl of Lancaster, came to see the Queen and to tell her how much he understood her dislike of the Despensers.

It was significant. Henry of Lancaster— certainly not the fighter and leader his brother had been— was offering her his support. Even the King’s two half-brothers Thomas Earl of Norfolk and Edmund Earl of Kent came to see her and to pay her very special homage because they too were heartily tired of their brother’s preoccupation with the Despensers.

‘It will not be easy to bring about his banishment,’ she told her brothers-in-law.

‘It should be done,’ replied Kent.

‘The King would fight to the death to save them,’ said Isabella.

‘Still,’ repeated Kent steadily, ‘it should be done.’

It was an indication of the way people were thinking and of great

gratification to Isabella.

She was desperately looking for an opportunity which would take her to

France where she could rejoin Mortimer.

Although the Despensers seemed at times to rush madly down that path of

folly which had led Gaveston to disaster, they were shrewd. They had noticed a change in the Queen’s attitude towards the King. They had been well aware that she previously tolerated them and had received the King for the sole reason of getting children. They understood that now she had four she had decided that was the end.

This was reasonable enough but she was turning more and more against the

King— a fact which would have been no cause for concern but for the