en it; the King had seen it, and that
white-hearted traitor Count had seen it, and sprung away with a wail, "O
Christ! O Christ!" The King stood up, and with his lifted hand stopped
me in the pious act. All held their breaths. I saw the priest at the
altar peer round the corner, his mouth making a ring. King Richard was
very pale and serious. He began to talk to his father, while the Count
lay cowering on the pavement.

'"Thou thinkest me thy slayer, father," he said, "pointing at me the
murder-sign. Well, I am content to take it; for be thou sure of this,
that if that last war between us was rightfully begun it was rightfully
ended. And of righteousness I think I am as good a judge as ever thou
wert. Thy work is done, and mine is to do. If I may be as kingly as thou
wert, I shall please thee yet; and if I fail in that I shall never blame
thee, father. Now, Abbot Milo," he concluded, "cover the face." So I
did, and Count John got up to his knees again, and looked at his
brother.

'This was not the end. Madame Alois of France came into the church
through the nuns' door, dressed all in grey, with a great grey hood on
her head, and after her women in the same habit. She came hastily, with
a quick shuffling motion of the feet, as if she was gliding; and by the
bier she stood still, questing with her eyes from side to side, like a
hunted thing. King Richard she saw, for he was standing up; but still
she looked about and about. Now Count John was kneeling in the shadow,
so she saw him last; but once meeting his deplorable eyes with her own
she never left go again. Whatever she did (and it was much), or whatever
said (and her mouth was pregnant), was with a fixed gaze on him.

'Being on the other side of the bier from him she watched, she put her
arms over the dead body, as a priest at mass broods upon the Host he is
making. And looking shrewdly at the Count, "If the dead could speak,
John," she said, "if the dead could speak, how think you it would report
concerning you and me?"

'"Ha, Madame!" says Count John, shaking like a leafy tree, "what is
this?" Madame Alois removed my handkerchief. The horror was still there.

'"He did me kindness," she said, looking wistfully at the empty face;
"he tried to serve me this way and that way." She stroked it, then
looked again at the Count. "But then you came, John; and you he loved
above all. How have you served him, John, my bonny lad? Eh, Saviour!"
She looked up on high--"Eh, Sa