Richard. So Gunther sat down and wiped his head, Richard finished his
beer; and then they went to sleep on the floor. Early in the morning the
prisoner woke up his gaoler.

'Come, Gunther,' he says, 'we had better take the road.'

'I am ready, sire,' says Gunther, manifestly unready. He rose and shook
himself.

'Lead, then,' Richard said.

'I follow you, sire.'

'Lead, you white dog,' said the King, and showed his teeth for a moment.
The Austrian obeyed. One of Richard's few attendants, a Norman called
Martin Vaux, adopted for his own salvation the simple expedient of
staying behind; and Gunther was in far too exalted a mood to notice such
a trifle. When he and his troop had rounded the forest road, Martin Vaux
rounded it also, but in the opposite direction. He was rather a fool,
though not fool enough to go to prison if he could help it. Being a
seaman by grace, he smelt for his element, and by grace found it after
not many days. More of him presently.

Archduke Luitpold was in his good town of Gratz when news was brought
him, and the man. 'Du lieber Gott!' he crowed. 'Ach, mein Gunther!' and
embraced his vassal.

His fiery little eyes burned red, as Mars when he flickers; but he was a
gentleman. He took Richard's proffered hand, and after some fumbling
about, kissed it.

'Ha, sire!' came the words, deeply exultant, from his big throat. 'Now
we are on more equal terms, it appears.'

'I agree with you, Luitpold,' said the King; and then, even as the
Archduke was wetting his lips for the purpose, he added, 'But I hope you
will not stretch your privilege so far as to make me a speech.'

Austria swallowed hard. 'Sire, it would take many speeches to wipe out
the provocations I have received at your hands. All the speeches in the
councils of the world could not excuse the deaths of my second cousin
the Count of Saint-Pol and of my first cousin the Marquess of
Montferrat.'

'That is true,' replied Richard, 'but neither could they restore them to
life.'

'Sire, sire!' cried the Archduke, 'upon my soul I believe you guilty of
the Marquess's death.'

'I assumed that you did,' was the King's answer; 'and your protestation
adds no weight to my theory, but otherwise.'

'Do you admit it, King Richard?' The Archduke, an amazed man, looked
foolish. His mouth fell open and his hair stuck out; this gave him the
appearance of a perturbed eagle in a bush.

'I am far from denying it,' says Richard. 'I never deny any ch