"Therefore
it is my will that to-morrow one and all your men be mustered at
Blackheath. We will take the field without delay against the King of
Scots."
The riot began anew. "Madness!" they shouted; "lunar madness! We can
do nothing until our King returns with our army!"
"In his absence," the Queen said, "I command here."
"You are not Regent," the Marquess answered. Then he cried, "This is
the Regent's affair!"
"Let the Regent be fetched," Dame Philippa said, very quietly. They
brought in her son, Messire Lionel, now a boy of eight years, and, in
the King's absence, Regent of England.
Both the Queen and the Marquess held papers. "Highness," Lord Hastings
began, "for reasons of state which I lack time to explain, this
document requires your signature. It is an order that a ship be
despatched to ask the King's return. Your Highness may remember the
pony you admired yesterday?" The Marquess smiled ingratiatingly. "Just
here, your Highness--a crossmark."
"The dappled one?" said the Regent; "and all for making a little
mark?" The boy jumped for the pen.
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