'Ha, sire! Ha, King of France! Now give me leave to break this brigand's
back, who robs and reviles in one breath. Touch of the Gospel, is it to
be borne?' Foaming with rage, he lunged forward a step or two, his hand
upon his long sword. Richard slowly got up from the throne and stood his
full height.

'Marquess, you use words I will not hear--'

King Philip broke in--'Fair lords, sweet lords--'; but Richard put his
hand up, having a kingly way with him which even kings observed.

'Dear sire,'--his voice was level and cool--'let me say my whole mind
before the Marquess recovers his. The Count of Saint-Pol, for beastly
reasons, spoke in my hearing either true things or false things
concerning Madame Alois. If they were true I was ready to die; if they
were false I hope he was. Believing them false, I had punished one man
for them before; but he had them from Saint-Pol. Therefore I called
Saint-Pol a liar, and other proper things. This gave him occasion to
save his credit at the risk of his back. He broke the one and I the
other. Now I will hear the Marquess.'

The Marquess tugged at his sword. 'And I, Count of Poictou--'; but King
Philip held out his sceptre, he too very much a king.

'And we, Count of Poictou,' he said, 'command you by your loyalty to
tell us what Saint-Pol dared say of our sister Dame Alois.' Although his
thin boy's voice quavered, he seemed the more royal for the human
weakness. Richard was greatly moved, thawed in a moment.

'God forgive me, Philip, but I cannot tell thee--' Pity broke up his
tones.

The young king almost whimpered: 'Oh, Richard, what is this?' But
Richard turned away his face. It was now the chance of the great
Italian.

'Now listen, King Philip,' he said, grim and square, 'and listen you,
Count of Poictou, whose account is to be quieted presently. Of this
business I happen to know something. If it serve not your honour I
cannot help it. It serves my murdered cousin's honour--therefore
listen.'

Richard's head was up. 'Peace, hound,' he said, and the Marquess snarled
like an old dog; but Philip, with a quivering lip, put out his hand till
it touched Richard's shoulder. 'I must hear it, Richard,' he said.
Richard put his arm round the lad's neck: so the Marquess told his
story. At the end of it Richard dared look down into Philip's marred
eyes. Then he kissed his forehead, and 'Oh, Philip,' says he, 'let him
who is hardy enough to tell this tale believe it, and let us wh