Anne sat with her sister in one of the cabins and tried to interest her in talk of the coming baby but the sound of gunfire shattered the peace and Anne greatly feared what might be happening to her father's ships. After what seemed like an interminable battle, although the Earl had lost several of his ships the one in which his family were travelling managed to escape, and with a few of the other vessels which had survived, sailed out to sea.

As they neared Calais, Warwick sent out a message to his friend and ally Lord Wenloch, to ascertain what their welcome would be in that port. The answer came back that it would be hostile and that the Duke of Burgundy on one side and the Yorkists on the other were waiting for his arrival and were standing by for his capture. He would, therefore, do better to land at a French port and throw himself on the hospitality of the King of France.

Warwick, who had on more than one occasion shown himself to be master of the sea, turned from Calais. He had always been at his best against desperate odds, and he was already making plans—plans which at first might seem quite wild and impossible; but the more outrageous they were the more they stimulated the Eari.

Meanwhile Isabel was causing great anxiety, for her pains had started and it had become clear that her child was about to be bom on the high seas.

'We must get into port at once,' cried the Countess.

Warwick was overcome with anxiety for his daughter but he

knew that to go into port was impossible for if they attempted to land they would be taken into captivity.

Anne was frantic. 'We need so much. There are no herbs, no soothing medicines, no midwife. . . .'

The Countess said: 'We must do our best.' A storm had arisen, and the wind began to howl and the boat to rock; and in the midst of the storm Isabel's child was born.

That she lived was a miracle but the child was dead. Isabel lay delirious on a pallet while Anne and the Countess prepared the little body for burial. The child was a boy and Anne could not help reflecting that had he lived he might have been the King of England.

There was a sad little ceremony when the child's body sewn into a sheet was slipped into the sea. Anne reflected that mercifully Isabel was spared witnessing the burial.

Afterwards she and her mother went back to Isabel. She must be their first concern. Anne knew that her mother was trying to shut out of her mind pictures of Isabel's being wrapped in a sheet before she was dropped into the sea.

'So,' said Warwick, 'I have lost my grandson. We must look forward. There will be more.'

His eyes were on Anne and there was a new speculation in them which she did not notice, so intent was she on her sister's tragedy. If she had she would have been very uneasy indeed.

Isabel began to get a little better and the weather had become much calmer. They were still at sea. Warwick had turned pirate; he had captured several Burgundian vessels and his men were reminded of the great days when he had made his name as Captain of Calais and they had believed that Warwick was invincible.

Warwick's belief in himself may have faltered a little, but only a little, and had returned in full force. He was going to recapture all he had lost. He could do that with the help of a king and that king was the King of France. It was Warwick's destiny to work through kings. He did not possess the necessary titles to stand on his own as ruler. He was the manipulator. He made the rules but someone else must appear to carry them out.

He had grandiose ideas as he sailed to the mouth of the Seine and reached the port of Harfleur.

Isabel's health improved and with land in sight, Anne and her

mother rejoiced. The nightmare journey was over.

The party was made welcome in France. King Edward was the enemy of Louis and Louis was Warwick's hiend. The King of France had flattered Warwick by his show of affection and the common enemies were Edward and Burgundy. Therefore there was hope for the Earl in France for his good friend Louis was ready to receive him and listen to his plans.

It was in the castle of Amboise that Anne learned how deeply she was involved in those plans.

They had arrived on a beautiful afternoon in May and the chateau set upon a plateau was a beautiful sight with its massive buttresses and cylindrical towers mounted by their sharp conical points.

The women were always glad when they came to a hospitable castle, for the days of travelling were exhausting to all three of them and particularly to Isabel.

It was at Amboise where the party was entertained with great ceremony by the King of France who seemed determined to make them welcome and imply that he was ready to help.

The King expressed great interest in the young ladies and particularly in Anne who gained the impression that she was the subject of conversation between her father and the King. She wondered then if they had some marriage in mind for her which was usually the case when interest was focussed on young girls.

She was fifteen years of age and therefore becoming marriageable she supposed, and the prospect was one to cause her some apprehension.

In those days which now seemed so long ago, she and Richard had loved to be together. They had talked of many things; they had loved books; they were more serious than Isabel and George had been. They had never discussed marrying but Anne had on one or two occasions heard the servants mention it. They had said what a nice pair they made, how fond they were of each other and how pleasant it would be for young people who had spent their early life in each other's company and got to know each other's ways to be together in their later life.

She had known what they meant and somewhere at the back of

her mind there had been the thought that one day she would marry Richard.

But now Pochard was far away, their circumstances had done a turnabout so that now they were on different sides and she feared that she might never see him again. She guessed that he must hate her father because Richard had always believed that his brother Edward was the most wonderful being on Earth and he would naturally hate anyone who was Edward's enemy. Oh, it was all so difficult to understand, so depressing and alarming now to consider that there might be some marriage prospect for her which did not include her childhood friend.

Soon after that her father went away and she with her mother and sister was left at Amboise, there to stay until she was sent for.

It seemed a long time that they were there. Perhaps that was because after the King and the Earl had left there was a quietness about the days, and they might have been at home at Warwick or Middleham; Isabel was still recuperating from her confinement and was often pale and listless.

Once she said to Anne: 'We are only daughters, and the purpose of a daughter is to make a marriage which will be advantageous to her family.'

'Did you not love George then?'

Isabel was thoughtful. 'Yes, I love George in a way. . . . But you know why he married me. It was to spite his brother and because that was our father's price for helping him to the throne. That is what George wants, you know. He has always wanted it.'

Anne knew it was true.

'Isabel,' she said, 'we are very rich, or when our father dies we shall be. We both shall have a great fortune to bring to our husbands. Perhaps it would have been better if we had been the daughters of a poor man.'

'Then we could not have had part, could we, in this battle for a throne,' agreed Isabel.

'Poor Isabel!'

'If my baby had lived I should have thought it worth while.'

'I daresay you will have more. That is what we are for is it not? To have babies . . . preferably sons. . . and to bring wealth to our husbands.'