her
nobility, her sobriety. He saw her bodily perfections too, how splendid
a person, how sumptuous in hue and light. Admiring, taking glory in
these, yet he required the sting of another man's hand upon her to seize
her for himself. For purposes of policy, for ends which seemed to him
good, he could have lived with Jehane as a brother with a sister: one
thing provided, Let no other man touch.

Now this policy was imperative, this end God said was good. Jehane
implored with tears, Christ called from the Cross; so King Richard fell
upon his knees and kissed the girl's forehead. When he left her that
morning he sought out Milo and confessed his sins. Shriven he arose, to
do what remained in the west before he could be crowned in Rouen, and
crowned in Westminster.

CHAPTER XV

LAST _TENZON_ OF BERTRAN DE BORN

I wish to be done with Bertran de Born, that lagging fox; but the dogs
of my art must make a backward cast if they are to kill him in the open.
I beg the reader, then, to remember that when Richard left him
half-throttled in his own house, and when he had recovered wind enough
to stir his gall, he made preparations for a long journey to the South.
In that scandal concerning Alois of France he believed he had stuff
which might wreck Count Richard more disastrously than Count Richard
could wreck him. He hoped to raise the South, and thither he went, his
own dung-fly, buzzing over the offal he had blown; and the first point
he headed for was Pampluna across the Pyrenees. It is folly to dig into
the mind of a man diseased by malice; better treat such like sour
ground, burn with lime (or let God burn) and abide the event in faith.
If of all men in the world Bertran hated Richard of Anjou, it was not
because Richard had misused him, but because he had used him too
lightly. Richard, offended with Bertran, gave him a flick on the ear and
sent him to the devil with his japes. He did no more because he valued
him no more. He thought him a perverse rascal, glorious poet,
ill-conditioned vassal, untimely parasite of his father's realm. He
knew he had caused endless mischief, but he could not hate such a cork
on a waterspray. Now, it fretted Bertran to white heat that he should be
despised by a great man. It seemed that at last he could do him
considerable harm. He could embroil him with two kings, France and
England, and induce a third to harass him from the South. So he crossed
the mountains and went into Navarre.