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Updated: May 21, 2025
The abandoned castle of Ashby de la Zouche has been made the site of an interesting town, deriving much prosperity from its neighboring coal-mines: this castle was built by Lord Hastings, and here dwelt Ivanhoe. The ruins of the tower, chapel, and great hall are objects of much interest, and in the chapel is the "finger pillory" for the punishment of those who were disorderly in church.
We have a bookless North, severed but by a frontier pillar from a golden and learned South. The arts, from architecture to miniature-painting, are in their highest perfection, while knights still tourney in armour, and the quarrel of two nations is decided as in the gentle and joyous passage of arms at Ashby de la Zouche.
"I say we ought to have prayers!" repeated Zouche with semi-solemn earnestness, "You talk of news, news in telegram, news in brief, official scratchings for the day and hour, and do you take no thought for the fact that his Holiness the Pope is ill perhaps dying?" He stared wildly round upon them all; and a tolerant smile passed over the face of the company.
"Why, Zouche," said Sir Roger kindly, greeting him with a smile; "You are up betimes! They tell me you want to see the King. Is it not a somewhat early call? His Majesty has only just left his sleeping- apartment, and is busy writing urgent letters. Will you entrust me with your message?" Paul Zouche looked at him fixedly.
Meantime Zouche, who had never been near any Royal precincts before, walked boldly to the Palace. All irresolution had left him; his step was firm, his manner self-contained, and only his eyes betrayed the deep and bitter sorrow of his soul. He was allowed to pass the sentinel at the outer gates, but at the inner portico of the Palace he was denied admittance.
"Of course you would!" said Zouche, "And is not that precisely the reason why you are set in dominion over us all? We men are not sure of ourselves but Heaven knows why! we are sure of You! I suppose it is because you are sure of yourself! For example, we men are such wretched creatures that we cannot go long without our food, but you, woman, can fast all day, and scorn the very idea of hunger.
"Well, you believe in Him;" said Zouche at last, "and I will catch hold of your angel's robe as you pass into His Presence and say to Him; Here comes poor Zouche, who wrote of beautiful things among ugly surroundings, and who, in order to be true to his friends, chose poverty rather than the gold of a king!" Lotys smiled, very sweetly and indulgently.
"One favour I have to ask of you," proceeded the King, "and it is this: If you exempt me to-night from killing the King;" and he smiled, "you must also exempt all the members of the Revolutionary Committee from any similar task allotted to them by having drawn the fatal Signal! Our friend, Zouche, for instance, has drawn the name of Carl Perousse.
All the people of the land know that song now! but you might have known it then! For now it is too late! too late to call her back; too late to give me peace!" He paused; then without another word turned, and went out. "Poor Zouche!" said the King gently; "I accept his reproach and understand it! He is right! The recognition of his genius is one of the thousand chances I have missed!
Now I want Zouche for better work than that of killing a rascal!" Loud cheers answered him, and Zouche rising from his place advanced a little. "Majesty!" he cried, "You are right! I hand your Majesty's intended Premier over to you with the greatest, pleasure in the world! Apart from the fact of your being the King, I am compelled to admit that you have common sense!"
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