against him. Even the Church should have considered before acting rashly. She admired him so much. She was proud to be his daughter. Philip had sent Guillaume de Nogaret, his trusted minister, to conspire with the Pope’s enemies against him. This he did so successfully that they captured Boniface in the town of Anagni and held him prisoner. He was rescued but that incident had impaired his health and his reason and he died soon after. A new pope was elected who was sponsored by the King of France. This was Benedict. Isabella had glowed with pride at her father’s success. Men were right when they said that he was the most powerful man in the world Even the Popes must obey him. But the Pope was far away and Benedict must have forgotten his promises to the King of France which he had given in exchange for his support at the time of his election, for very soon he was talking of excommunicating any who had brought harm to his predecessor Boniface and wanted the matter of his imprisonment inquired into. When the shadow of excommunication hung over her father, Isabella had shivered with fear and even he was downcast, dreading that the sentence might be carried out. It was not so much that he would fear to dwell in that unsanctified state as that his soldiers would believe themselves beaten before they went into battle and his ministers would have the idea that working with the King was working against God. The King did not fly into tempers; his rages were cold and calculating and his revenge on those who displeased him could be terrible. She been working at her embroidery one day when her mother had come to her and sat beside her. “The King is in high spirits this day,’ she had commented. “The Pope is dead.” “Oh!” cried Isabella, ‘that is good news for France.’ “A foolish man,’ commented this Queen. ‘He thought to break his promises to your father.’ “Then he deserves to die,’ said Isabella. ‘He did not reign long as Pope. Was he an old man that he should die so soon?” The Queen smiled slowly. ‘Let us say that he was a greedy man. A basket of fresh figs was sent to him. He ate too many of them.” ‘Could he die through eating figs?’ ‘This Pope did,’ said the Queen still smiling. What rumours there were about that basket of figs! It was said that the Roman enemies of the Pope had had poison inserted into the luscious fruit before they had been sent to Benedict. It was even whispered that Guillaume de Nogaret had done it. But the chief suspect was one few dared name: the King of France. Philip was certainly ready to seize the advantage and was determined that the next Pope should be his man. His choice fell on Bertrand de Goth, a man of great ambitions, and one who would be ready to do anything to gain his ends. The very man for Pope. But what chance had the Archbishop of Bordeaux of reaching that mighty pinnacle? None without help of the most powerful man in Europe. And if he had that help? ‘Why should we not make a bargain,’ demanded the shrewd King of France. A hard bargain it was but the Archbishop knew very well that it was his one hope of becoming Pope, and being the man he was he seized it. In a short time he had become Pope Clement V. The papal resident had been moved from Rome to Avignon. This Pope was undoubtedly the King’s man. Isabella knew that one of a ruler’s most urgent needs was for money. It was often the topic of conversation in intimate family circles. Subjects thought their rulers were possessed of inexhaustible coffers into which they had but to delve. How different was the truth. Those coffers had to be filled and one of the main preoccupations was how to replenish them. Philip was like the rest in this. He had no alchemist’s secret of turning base metal into gold. So he must look about for other means. He had hated the Templars since they had opposed him and the desire for revenge on them had been festering in his mind for some time. He