'Sir,' said he, advancing towards Philip and making a reverence, 'I came here in obedience to your commands and good pleasure.'

'Earl Montfort,' replied Philip, 'I thank you for so doing; but I am much surprised how you could think, or dare, of your own accord to invade the Duchy of Brittany, where you have no right, for there are nearer heirs than you; and, in order the better to strengthen your claim, you have been, as I am informed, to do homage for it to my enemy the King of England.'

'Sir,' exclaimed Montfort, 'do not believe it, for in good truth you have been misinformed.'

'Indeed!' said Philip.

"Yes,' continued the earl; and with regard to my claims, of which you have just spoken, with all due deference to your grace, I believe you are quite mistaken; for I know of no nearer relation to the duke, my brother, lately deceased, than myself; and I shall not think myself a rebel, or be ashamed, for not giving up my right.'

'Sir Earl,' replied Philip, 'you speak well; but I command you, by what you now hold and expect to hold from me, that you quit not the city of Paris for fifteen days, when the peers and barons shall try this question of relationship; at which time you will know what your right is; and if you act otherwise you will incur our displeasure.'

Montfort bowed his head to Philip, left the Court of Peers, returned to his hotel, and sat down to dinner. He was in an uneasy frame of mind, however, and retiring to his chamber, he reflected pensively on some circumstances connected with his interview which were rather suspicious. At length, concluding that he was not to have fair play, and resolving to begone, he called a few of his attendants, mounted his horse, and rode quietly out of Paris. His departure was so well managed, that for days it was believed that he was still in the French capital, and rumoured that ill health confined him to the house.

Meantime the Countess of Montfort remained at Nantes, and the earl, hastening thither, related all that had happened. 'You have done well and acted wisely,' said the countess. But it was necessary to prepare for the worst. Hardly a doubt indeed could now remain as to what would be the decision of the twelve peers; and acting on the countess's advice, Montfort wrote to all the towns and castles which had surrendered to him, established in each able captains, with plenty of soldiers, cavalry as well as infantry, and paid them handsomely.' Events speedily demonstrated the necessity of such precautions. Philip, albeit reigning in consequence of that interpretation of the Salic law, which had been given in his favour, disregarded it when it interfered with the prospects of his nephew, and the Court of Peers, which was devoted to Philip, decided against Montfort, and in favour of the wife of Charles of Blois; and ere long Charles, accompanied by the lords of France, and Prince Louis of Spain, entered Brittany, and appeared with an army before the walls of Nantes.

The position of Montfort, however, was by no means desperate; but it was soon rendered so by an unfortunate quarrel with Sir Hervé de Léon, one of his barons. In a sally made by the townsmen of Nantes, under the guidance of Sir Hervé, many were killed and many made prisoners. The earl, amazed at this mischance, reproached Sir Hervé in severe terms; and the knight, indignant at being so treated, vowed to make Montfort repent his words. An opportunity soon occurred. The burghers, horrified at the destruction of their property and the captivity of their kinsmen, became eager for peace; and, assembling privately under Sir Hervé's influence, they proposed, on condition of their friends being set free, to allow the French to pass through one of the gates to attack the castle and seize Montfort. Everything was accordingly arranged; and about All Saints' Day the French entered, made straight for the

castle, broke down the gates, seized the earl, and took possession of Nantes; and, while the townsmen did homage to Charles of Blois, Montfort was led captive to Paris, and imprisoned in the tower of the Louvre.

Fortune now seemed to have deserted the Montfort cause, and Charles of Blois perhaps flattered himself that his progress as a conqueror would be easy and rapid. If so, he was mistaken, and he soon found that there was a lioness in the way.

'I wish now,' says Froissart, 'to return to the Countess of Montfort, who possessed the courage of a man, and the heart of a lion. She was in the city of Rennes, when she heard of the seizure of her lord; and, notwithstanding the great grief she had at heart, she did all she could to comfort and reanimate her friends and soldiers. Showing them a young child, called John after his father, she said "Oh, gentlemen, do not be cast down by what we have suffered through the loss of my lord. He was but one man. Look at my child here; if it please God, he shall be his restorer, and do you much service. I have plenty of wealth, which I will distribute among you, and will seek out for such a leader as may give you a proper confidence."

"When the countess had, by these means, encouraged her friends and soldiers at Rennes, she visited all the other towns and fortresses, taking her young son, John, with her. She addressed and encouraged them in the same manner she had done at Rennes; she strengthened her garrisons both with men and provisions, paid handsomely for everything, and gave largely wherever she thought it would have a good effect. She then went to Hennebon, near the sea, where she and her son remained all that winter, frequently visiting her garrisons, whom she encouraged and paid liberally.'

But Charles of Blois was strongly supported; and the Countess of Montfort perceived the impossibility of carrying on single-handed the war with France; and the