snow and no cold in the winter gone by, and I
was able to take the air daily, and I grew strong wondrous fast. Thou
hadst told me to be patient, to believe that all was well if I heard
nothing from thee; and I strove to follow thy maxim, and that with good
success. I knew that thou wouldst not let me go on hoping if hope meant
but a bitterer awaking. I knew that silence must mean there was work
which thou wert doing. Many a time, as a white-winged vessel spread her
sails for England's shores, have I longed to step on board and follow
thee across the blue water to see how thou wast faring; but then came
always the thought that thou mightest be on thy way hither, and that
thou wouldst chide me for having left these sheltering walls. And so I
stayed on day after day, and week after week, until months had rolled
by; and I began to say within myself that, if thou camest not before the
autumn storms, I must e'en take ship and follow thee, for I could wait
no longer for news of thee -- and her."

"And here I am with news of her, and news that to me is almost better.
Raymond, I have not come hither alone. The Prince and the flower of our
English chivalry are here at Bordeaux this day. The hollow truce is at
an end. Insult upon insult has been heaped upon England's King by the
King of France, the King of Navarre (who called himself our ally till he
deserted us to join the French King, who will yet avenge upon him his
foul murder of Charles of Spain), and the Count of Blois in Brittany.
England has been patient. Edward has listened long to the pleadings of
the Pope, and has not rushed into war; but he cannot wait patiently for
ever. They have roused the lion at last, and he will not slumber again
till he has laid his foes in the dust.

"Listen, Raymond: the Prince is here in Bordeaux. The faithful Gascon
nobles -- the Lord of Pommiers, the Lord of Rosen, the Lord of Mucident,
and the Lord de l'Esparre -- have sent to England to say that if the
Prince will but come to lead them, they will make gallant war upon the
French King. John has long been striving to undermine England's power in
his kingdom, to rid himself of an enemy's presence in his country, to be
absolute lord over his vassals without their intermediate allegiance to
another master. It does not suffice that our great King does homage for
his lands in France (though he by rights is King of France himself). He
knows that here, in these sunny lands of the south, the Roy O