They went out into the barge and soon arrived at the Sanctuary beside the Abbey.

'I was here once before,' said young Elizabeth.

'Yes,' murmured the Queen, 'and I never thought this could ever befall us again.'

'Well, we are together,' Elizabeth reminded her.

'Not all of us,' piped up Richard. 'Edward isn't.'

'We shall soon have the King with us,' said the Queen firmly.

Waiting in Northampton Gloucester received Hashngs' message.

The Woodvilles had clearly realized they were beaten. The Queen had fled with her children into Sanctuary. Rotherham, the foolish old man, had lost his head and given the Great Seal back to the Queen though no sooner had he committed this act of folly than he had attempted to retrieve it. He had been too late however; the Queen had gone and when it was realized what he had done he had naturally been deprived of his office.

It would be fitting now for Gloucester to bring the King to London.

So all was going according to plan. Gloucester could be sure that if Edward could look down from Heaven he would approve of what had been done. He had decided that it would be unwise to send Rivers, Grey and Vaughan to the same place of imprisonment and far safer to keep them separately confined. Rivers should go to Sheriff Hutton as originally intended, Richard Grey to Middleham and Vaughan to Pontefract.

He was now prepared to march on London. The King was a

little sullen; he showed clearly that he did not like his Uncle Gloucester and deeply resented that the uncle of whom he was very fond should with his half-brother be taken away from him.

Gloucester tried to talk to the boy of his father and how friendly they had been as brothers. Gloucester reminded the young King of his motto Loyaulte me lie which he had always adhered to and on which the late King had always been able to rely. Gloucester implied that he would now transfer that loyalty to the new King.

'Why, Edward/ he said, 'you are your father's son, my own nephew. To whom should I owe my loyalty but to you?'

Edward listened politely but there was a sullen line to his mouth.

'Perhaps,' he said, 'you could bring my uncle Lord Rivers to me for I do not know of what he can possibly be accused.'

'He will have a fair trial and then you will understand.'

T do not need a trial to tell me that he is innocent of all wrong doing,' said the King.

'You are loyal to those you believe to be your friends and that is admirable,' was all Gloucester said.

He was eager to show the King that he wanted to take nothing from him. All he wanted to do was set him on the throne and help him to govern wisely.

On the fourth of May—the day the Woodvilles had selected for his coronation—Edward the Fifth rode into London.

He was attired in blue velvet which became him well and his fair hair falling to his shoulders made of him a pretty sight. The people cheered him, though they had had their fill of Kings who were minors and knew that good rarely came of them. What England needed was a strong king—a man such as this boy's father had been.

Beside the King rode the Duke of Gloucester; he was sombrely clad in black, a contrast to the King's rich garments. And on the other side of the King was Buckingham, clad like Gloucester in black.

Solemnly they rode. The people cheered so wildly that Elizabeth with her children in the Sanctuary of Westminster heard them and she was exultant. It would not be long she promised herself and her family. Soon they would be out of this place and with the King.

The people looked at the Duke of Gloucester, pale, serious and sombre. His brother had relied on him, trusted him.

We have a young King, they thought; but we shall have a wise Protector. Edward in his wisdom has left us well provided for.

News of what was happening outside was brought into the Sanctuary. Elizabeth was desolate. The people accepted Richard; they saw in him a wise ruler, a man who had remained loyal to his brother and had had his confidence. He was serious-minded and had shown that he was a wise administrator by the order he had kept in the North of England. They loved their little King. He was good-looking and youth was always appealing providing there were those who could guide it.

The country unanimously agreed that Richard of Gloucester should be the Lord Protector, and Defender of the Realm.

He was against the Woodvilles but then so was the country. They had watched the avaricious Queen push her family into all the most important houses in the country. Well, that was going to be over now and the Protector had acted promptly and with good sense when he had arrested Rivers and Richard Grey and made Dorset realize that the only place where he would be safe was in Sanctuary.

Dorset was restive. He could not bear being confined in Sanctuary. How could he possibly pursue the kind of life which he had found so necessary to him in such a place? He missed Jane. He laughed slyly to think that she was his mistress. It had happened as soon as the King died—as he had known it would. He had long had his eyes on Jane and he would not have waited for the death of the King. She was the one who insisted on that. Jane was different from other women he had known; Edward had always said she was and he was right. She was not a natural harlot; she was warm-hearted and amorous by nature, bom to it, as Edward had said; and yet there was no question of buying her favours. It is not easy to give Jane anything, the King had said wonderingly. Dorset was cynical; at first he had thought she was just exceptionally clever as his own sister was in her way. But there could not be another woman living less like Elizabeth.

He derived great satisfaction from his affair with Jane for a number of reasons. In the first place she was beautiful and desirable; and for another, and this gave him special pleasure, Hastings had wanted her right from the time when the King had

first discovered her. Indeed Dorset was not sure whether Hastings had not discovered her first. Edward had come along and jostled poor William out of the way and of course he dared not anger the King over her and Edward would have been furious in the case of Jane though with any other woman he might have been ready to enter into a kind of tournament with his friend.

Not Jane though. There was something special about Jane. Hastings was gnashing his teeth because Dorset had been the one she had gone to on the King's death.

Dear weak Jane, she had found him irresistible, although she was no fool. She knew his faults. She knew him for the cynical, selfish sybarite he was. She would have no faith in his fidelity; he lacked the kindliness of the late King; that desire in Edward never to hurt people's feelings if he could help it and always to seek a way of smoothing over unpleasantness was no part of Dorset's nature. Dorset cared nothing for others; he did not consider them except in their ability to supply his needs. Jane knew this and it was a double triumph therefore that she had come to him. The truth was he was possessed of extraordinary physical attraction. So many women, hating him for what he was, yet found him irresistible; and that Jane, who had basked in the King's affection and returned it undemandingly for all the years they had been together, should now turn to Dorset was a great triumph— particularly when Hastings was standing by ready to give her the same devotion that she had enjoyed so long from Edward.

To be confined in Sanctuary was unbearable. Yet what would happen if he ventured out? He would immediately be imprisoned for Gloucester would regard him as one of the leaders of the Woodville party.

What a wretched state of affairs to have fallen into so suddenly—and all because one king had died and his brother was determined to rule the country.