“It is parchment, unfortunately for you, my lord, and it tells a selfish tale,” said Gloucester calmly.  “It is the letter you dispatched last night to Edward’s Chamberlain, but which was taken by one of my good Knights, though your Squire died in its defence.  You know its contents—­and, mayhap, you also begin to know the depth of your folly.”

“It is evident that I am in the toils of a plot laid by you and yonder brother-in-law of mine,” said the Earl with haughty contempt.  “You have entrapped me; and the deepest folly that I know would be to hope for justice in such clutches.  I am to be sacrificed because, forsooth, I am dangerous to the conspiracy that you have afoot; and well can I foresee what the conspiracy designs. . .  Yet did I flatter you overmuch, my Lord of Buckingham; it is no creature of your brain, this scheme whose end is treason.  You are too vain and empty-headed to be of any service except to aid its execution—­and then, later, to be the leading figure at your own.  Your sires were overmuch Lancastrian for you to be trusted by a son of York—­after your usefulness is ended.”

Gloucester’s stern mouth relaxed in a faint smile, but Buckingham flushed angrily.

“By the Holy Saints!” he broke out, “were it not that the very touch would soil a Stafford’s gauntlet, I would lay my hand across your Woodville mouth.”

“It is passing strange then, if we be so degraded,” said Rivers quickly, “that you should have chosen a Woodville for a wife.”

Pushing his horse past Grey, Buckingham leaned forward and would have struck the Earl had not the calm tones of Gloucester stayed him in the very act.

“Hold!  Stafford, you forget yourself—­and you, Sir Earl, return your dagger.”

“He shall answer me for those words,” Buckingham exclaimed.

“I am at your service this very instant,” returned Rivers, doffing his bonnet and bowing to his charger’s neck.

“This very instant be it,” cried the Duke, springing down and drawing sword.

Before the last word was spoken, Rivers was off his horse and confronting Stafford with bared weapon.  But ere the blades could clash together, Gloucester swung between them and knocked up the Earl’s sword with his own, which he had unsheathed with amazing swiftness.

“Cease this foolishness,” he said sternly.  “Buckingham, you forget yourself.  Ratcliffe, arrest the Earl of Rivers and Sir Richard Grey.”

The Master of Horse rode forward.

“Your sword, my lord,” he said to Rivers.

For a moment the Earl hesitated; then hurled it far out into the river.

“In the name of the King, whose uncle and governor I am, I protest, lord Duke, against this unwarranted and outrageous conduct,” he cried.

“And I arrest you in the name of that very King, whose uncle and guardian I am,” replied Richard.  “Ratcliffe, execute your orders.”

“I must request you to accompany me forthwith,” said Ratcliffe courteously, to the two noblemen.