m for thee. Leave thy cause in a brother's hands." But
Richard went not back, though, when they came to the edge of the wood,
they beheld the king's train advancing in the broad highway.

"Fly, Richard; escape while thou mayest!" cried Robert, yet offered
he not the horse for the greater speed. "Found on English ground,
thou diest a felon's death. Disgrace not thy family. Carest thou not
for life?" he cried, pursuing Richard, who stinted not, nor stayed, at
the sight of the king, but the rather hasted forward.

"What is life to me?" said Richard. "Let the king do with me as he
will." He strode onward proudly, with folded arms, offering himself to
the view of Edward, who as yet saw him not, or only as a forester.

"Halt at least that I may spur on and implore for thee," said Robert,
for he hoped that he might deliver him a prisoner to some one in
attendance, that he should not come to speech of the king.

With this wily purpose, he galloped forward. A shout arose, "The
traitor! The traitor!" He was made prisoner by no gentle hands, and,
at a nod from the king, found himself led away to the rear, but not
far removed.

He looked about for Richard. Could he not yet wave him back? Should
the king see that noble face, he must be moved to mercy, at least so
far as to give him audience. The brothers know not yet that all is
reversed. Robert sees a man in russet clothing kneel at the king's
stirrup; he sees the royal hand extended to raise him; he sees many
press forward eager to welcome the wanderer. He turns away, sick at
the sight.

One look more. Bertha has thrown herself into the arms of his hated
brother. He tears his beard; he curses his own natal day, and the
stars that presided over his birth and destiny.

Yet must he look once more, though to an envious soul the sight of a
brother's happiness is like the torment of purgatorial fire. Richard
is standing with his hand extended towards him. He is pleading the
cause of the mean and cowardly enemy who betrayed him. He pities and
forgives him; he even loves him still, for is he not his brother? As
the eyes of the king and of all the surrounding crowd are turned on
him, burning shame subdues the warring passions that fill the heart of
Robert, and a faint emotion of gratitude brings a tear to fall upon
his hot cheek. Something of old, childish love awakes in his bosom,
like dew in a dry land.

The king granted Richard's prayer, the more readily because his anger