him and told him of the king's death and of
the funeral next day in Fontevrault. Hugh groaned deeply and announced
at Angers that he should set out at once for that place. Every one
begged and prayed that he would do no such thing. The mere rumour of the
king's death had as usual let loose all the forces of disorder. Robbery,
violence, and general anarchy were up. His own servants had been held up
and robbed of forty silver marks, and the interregnum was more dreadful
than any tyranny. What is the use of such charitable designs if you
merely get left in the wilds by robbers, bare of carriage and clothes?
they asked. His answer was worthy of a man who lived in holy fear and no
other. "_We_ are all well aware what things can happen--fearful to the
fearful--on this journey. But I think it a thing much more fearful that
I should be coward enough to fail my late lord and king, by being away
at such a crisis, by witholding my faith and grace from him in death,
which I always showed him warmly in his life. What of the trouble he
gave us, by giving in too much to the evil advice of those who flattered
him? Certainly when I was with him, he never treated me but most
honourably, never dismissed me unheard, when I made him some remarks
face to face upon my business. If he wronged me when I was away, I have
put it down to the spite of my detractors, not to his wickedness or
malice. I will, therefore, pay him back to my power the honours he so
often bestowed upon me. It will not be my fault if I do not help warmly
at his obsequies. Say robbers do meet me on the road, say they do take
the horses and carry off the robes, my feet will travel all the fleeter,
because they are lightened from the vestment baggage. If they really
tie my feet and rob me of the power of moving, then and then only will
be a real excuse for being absent in the body, for it will be caused not
by vice but by outside obstacles." He left his friends in the city and
almost all his stuff, took one minor clerk, one monk, and a tiny train
and set out. On the way he heard that the poor Queen Berengaria was at
Castle Beaufort, so he left the doubtful highway for a dangerous forest
track to visit her. He soothed her almost crazy grief, bid her bear
grief bravely and face better days cautiously, said Mass for her,
blessed her and her train, and went back at once. He got to Saumur the
same day, where he was greeted with a sort of ovation by the townsfolk
and was entertained