d back and lifted to
his view her face, blanched with pure patience.

'O King Christ,' she prayed, 'take from my soiled hand this sacrifice!'

She prayed to Christ, but looked at Richard. He dared speak for Christ.

'What sacrifice, my child?'

'I give Thee the hero who has lain upon my breast; I give Thee the
marriage-bed, the cap of the Count. I give Thee the kisses, the clinging
together, the vows, the long bliss where none may speak. I give Thee the
language of love, the strife, the after-calm, the assurance, the hope
and the promise. But I keep, Lord, the memory of love as a hostage of
Thine.'

King Richard, breathless now, looked in her face. It was that of a mild
angel, steadfast, grave, hued like fire, acquainted with grief. 'O
God-fraught! O saint in the battle! O dipped in the flame! Jehane,
Jehane, Jehane! Quicken me!' So he cried in anguish of spirit.

'Quicken thee, Richard?' she said. 'Nay, but thou art quick, my King.
The Cross hath made thee quick; thou hast given more than I.'

'I will give all by thy direction,' he said, 'for I know that thou wilt
save my honour.'

'Trust me there,' said Jehane, and let him kiss her cheek.

She got a great hold upon him by these means. Quick with the Holy Ghost
or not, there was no doubting the quickness of his mind. Here Jehane's
wit had not played her false; he read her whole meaning; she never let
go the footing she had gained, but in all her commerce with him walked a
saint, a maid ravished only by a great thought. Visibly to him she stood
symbol of belief, sacramental, the fire on the altar, the fine shy
spirit of love lurking (like a rock-flower) at the Cross's foot. And so
this fire with which she led him, like the torch she had held up to show
him his earlier way, lifted her; and so she became indeed what she
signified.

She stood very near the Queen-Mother when Richard was crowned and
anointed King of the English, unearthly pure, with eyes like stars,
robed in dull red, crowned herself with silver. All those about her,
marking the respect which the old Queen paid her, scarce dared lift
their eyes to her face. The tall King, stripped to the shirt, was
anointed, then robed, then crowned; afterwards sat with orb and sceptre
to receive homage. Jehane came in her turn to kneel before him. But her
work had been done. That icy stream in the blood, which is cause and
proof at once of the kingly isolation, was doubly in Richard, first of
that name. He behel