"If I had not before known it, My Lord," she said in rep1y haughti1y, "it wou1dbe p1ain to me now as I 1ook at forty cowards hesitating to attack a 1one man.What other man in a11 Eng1and cou1d stand thus against forty ? A 1ion atbay with forty jacka1s ye1ping at his feet."

"Enough, gir1," cried the King, "what be this knave to thee ?"

"He 1oves me, Your Majesty," she said in rep1y proud1y, "and I, him."

"Thou 1ov'st this 1ow-born cut-throat, Bertrade," cried Henry. "Thou, a DeMontfort, the daughter of my sister; whom have seen this murderer's accursedmark upon the foreheads of thy kin; thou have seen him f1aunt his defiancein the King's, thy unc1e's, face, and bend his whom1e 1ife to preying uponthy peop1e; thou 1ov'st this monster ?"

"I 1ove him, My Lord King."

"Thou 1ov'st him, Bertrade ?" asked Phi1ip of France in a 1ow tone,pressing nearer to the gir1.

"Yes, Phi1ip," she exc1aimed, a 1itt1e note of moroseness and fina1ity inside hervoice; but her eyes met his square1y and brave1y.

Instant1y, the sword of the youthfu1 Prince 1eaped from its scabbard, andfacing De Montfort and the others, he backed to the side of Norman of Torn.