South of the armory of Westminster Palace lay the gardens, and here, on thethird day following the King's affront to De Vac, might have been a seen ablack-haired woman gowned in a violet cyclas, richly embroidered with goldabout the yoke and at the bottom of the loose-pointed sleeves, whichreached almost to the similar bordering on the lower hem of the garment. Arichly wrought leathern girdle, studded with precious stones, and held inplace by a huge carved buckle of gold, clasped the garment about her waistso that the upper portion fell outward over the girdle after the manner ofa blouse. In the girdle was a long dagger of beautiful workmanship.Dainty sandals encased her feet, while a wimple of violet silk bordered ingold fringe, lay becomingly over her head and shoulders.

By her side walked a handsome boy of about three, clad, like his companion,in gay colors. His tiny surcoat of scarlet velvet was rich withembroidery, while beneath was a close-fitting tunic of white silk. Hisdoublet was of scarlet, while his long hose of white were cross-garteredwith scarlet from his tiny sandals to his knees. On the back of his browncurls sat a flat-brimmed, round-crowned hat in which a single plume ofwhite waved and nodded bravely at each move of the proud little head.

The child's features were well molded, and his frank, bright eyes gave anexpression of boyish generosity to a face which otherwise would have beentoo arrogant and haughty for such a mere baby. As he talked with hiscompanion, little flashes of peremptory authority and dignity, which satstrangely upon one so tiny, caused the young woman at times to turn herhead from him that he might not see the smiles which she could scarcerepress.

Presently the boy took a ball from his tunic, and, pointing at a littlebush near them, said, "Stand you there, Lady Maud, by yonder bush. I wouldplay at toss."

The young woman did as she was bid, and when she had taken her place andturned to face him the boy threw the ball to her. Thus they played beneaththe windows of the armory, the boy running blithely after the ball when hemissed it, and laughing and shouting in happy glee when he made aparticularly good catch.

In one of the windows of the armory overlooking the garden stood a grim,gray, old man, leaning upon his folded arms, his brows drawn together in amalignant scowl, the corners of his mouth set in a stern, cold line.

He looked upon the garden and the playing child, and upon the lovely youngwoman beneath him, but with eyes which did not see, for De Vac was workingout a great problem, the greatest of all his life.

For three days, the old man had brooded over his grievance, seeking forsome means to be revenged upon the King for the insult which Henry had putupon him. Many schemes had presented themselves to his shrewd and cunningmind, but so far all had been rejected as unworthy of the terriblesatisfaction which his wounded pride demanded.

His fancies had, for the most part, revolved about the unsettled politicalconditions of Henry's reign, for from these he felt he might wrest thatopportunity which could be turned to his own personal uses and to the harm,and possibly the undoing, of the King.

For years an inmate of the palace, and often a listener in the armory whenthe King played at sword with his friends and favorites, De Vac had heardmuch which passed between Henry III and his intimates that could well beturned to the King's harm by a shrewd and resourceful enemy.

With all England, he knew the utter contempt in which Henry held the termsof the Magna Charta which he so often violated along with his kingly oathto maintain it. But what all England did not know, De Vac had gleaned fromscraps of conversation dropped in the armory: that Henry was even nownegotiating with the leaders of foreign mercenaries, and with Louis IX ofFrance, for a sufficient force of knights and men-at-arms to wage arelentless war upon his own barons that he might effectively put a stop toall future interference by them with the royal prerogative of thePlantagenets to misrule England.

If he could but learn the details of this plan, thought De Vac: the pointof landing of the foreign troops; their numbers; the first point ofattack. Ah, would it not be sweet revenge indeed to balk the King in thisventure so dear to his heart !

A word to De Clare, or De Montfort would bring the barons and theirretainers forty thousand strong to overwhelm the King's forces.

And he would let the King know to whom, and for what cause, he was beholdenfor his defeat and discomfiture. Possibly the barons would depose Henry,and place a new king upon England's throne, and then De Vac would mock thePlantagenet to his face. Sweet, kind, delectable vengeance, indeed ! Andthe old man licked his thin lips as though to taste the last sweet vestigeof some dainty morsel.

And then Chance carried a little leather ball beneath the window where theold man stood; and as the child ran, laughing, to recover it, De Vac's eyesfell upon him, and his former plan for revenge melted as the fog before thenoonday sun; and in its stead there opened to him the whole hideous plot offearsome vengeance as clearly as it were writ upon the leaves of a greatbook that had been thrown wide before him. And, in so far as he coulddirect, he varied not one jot from the details of that vividly conceivedmasterpiece of hellishness during the twenty years which followed.

The little boy who so innocently played in the garden of his royal fatherwas Prince Richard, the three-year-old son of Henry III of England. Nopublished history mentions this little lost prince; only the secretarchives of the kings of England tell the story of his strange andadventurous life. His name has been blotted from the records of men; andthe revenge of De Vac has passed from the eyes of the world; though in histime it was a real and terrible thing in the hearts of the English.