The worst was made known, and not even Paul dared venture a word of consolation, or seek to know what was passing in the mind of the prince, whose fair inheritance seemed thus to be slipping away.
Excitement, uncertainty, and suspense seemed in the very air, and even before the silent little troop reached the courtyard of the Abbey eager forms were seen hurrying out, and the tall and stately figure of the royal Margaret stood outlined in the doorway.

Perhaps something in the very silence and confused looks of the little group told a tale of disaster, for the queen came hurrying down the steps with whitening face, and her son sprang from his saddle and put his arm about her, as if to support her in the shock which could not but fall upon her now.
"Tell me all," she whispered hoarsely.

"Do not keep me in suspense.
Speak, I command you, my son." "A battle has been fought--and lost," answered Edward, speaking mechanically.

"Our ally and friend the Earl of Warwick was killed in desperate fight.

My father is a prisoner in the enemy's hands.
Edward of York is even now making his triumphant entry into London, which will receive him with open arms." Edward said no more; he had indeed told all his tale, and it had been enough for the unhappy woman, who had landed on English soil so confident of victory.