composed the hands and shut down the horrible
sightless eyes, then put upon it the only shirt they could find, which
(being a boy's) was a very short one. Afterwards came the Chancellor,
Stephen of Turon, called up in a great hurry from a merry-making, with
one or two others, and took some order in the affair.

The Chancellor knew perfectly well that King Henry had desired to be
buried in the church of the nuns at Fontevrault. There had been an old
prophecy that he should lie veiled among the veiled women which had
pleased him very much, though it had often been his way to scoff at it.
But no one dared move him without the order of the new King, whoever
that might happen to be. Who could tell when Anjou was claiming a crown?
Messengers therefore were sent out hot-foot to Count Richard at
Poictiers, and to Count John, who was supposed to be in Paris. He,
however, was at Tours with the French King, and got the news first.

It caught him in the wind, so to put it. Alain, a Canon of Tours, came
before him kneeling, and told him. 'Lord Christ, Alain, what shall we
do?' says he, as white as a cheese-cloth. They fell talking of this or
that, that might or might never be done, when in burst King Philip,
Saint-Pol, Des Barres, and the purple-faced Duke of Burgundy. King
Philip ran up to John and clapped him on the back.

'King John! King John of England!' screamed the young man, like a witch
in the air; then Burgundy began his grumble of thunder.

'I stand for you, by God. I am for you, man.' But Saint-Pol knelt and
touched his knee.

'Sire, do me right, and I become your man!' So said Des Barres also.
Count John looked about him and wrung his hands.

'Heh, my lords! Heh, sirs! What shall I do now?' He was liquid; fear and
desire frittered his heart to water.

They held a great debate, all talking at once, except the subject of the
bother. He could only bite his nails and look out of the window. To
them, then, came creeping Alois of France, deadly pale, habited in the
grey weeds of a nun. How she got in, I know not; but they parted this
way and that before her, and so she came very close to John in his
chair, and touched him on the shoulder. 'What now, traitor?' she said
hoarsely. 'Whom next? The sister betrayed; the father; and now the
brother and king?'

John shook. 'No, no, Alois, no no!' he said in a whisper. 'Go to bed. We
think not of it.' But she still stood looking at him, with a wry smile
on that face of hers,