the burden of the sin is thine. Is this a horrible thing?

Jehane smiled up in his face. 'And dost thou think it, Richard, a
burden so grievous,' she said, 'to be mother of thy son? Dost thou think
that the world can be harsh to me after that; or that in the life to
come there will be no remembrance to make the long days sweet?' She
looked very proudly upon him, smiling all the time; she put her hands up
and crowned his head with them. 'Oh, my dear life, my pride and my
master,' said Jehane, 'let all come to me that must come now; I am rich
above all my desires, and my lowliness has been of no account with God.
Now let me go, blessing His name.'

He would not let her go, but still looked earnestly down at her,
struggling with himself against himself.

'I must be married, Jehane,' says he presently. And she, 'In a good
hour, my lord.'

'It is an accursed hour,' he said; 'nothing but ill can come of it.'

'Lord,' said she, 'thou art vowed to this work.'

'I know it very well,' he replied; 'but a man does as he can.'

'You, my King Richard, do as you will,' said Jehane. So he kissed her
and let her go.

Among the multitudinous affairs now heaped upon him--business of his new
empire and his old, business of Guy's, business of the war, business of
marriage--he set first and foremost this business of Jehane's. He
removed her from the Queen's house, gave her house and household of her
own. It was in Limasol, a pleasant place overlooking the sea and the
ships, a square white house set deep in myrtle woods and oleanders. Once
more the 'Countess of Poictou' had her seneschal, chaplain, ladies of
honour. That done, he fixed Saint Pancras' day for his marriage, had the
ships got out, furnished, and appointed for sea. The night before Saint
Pancras he sent for Abbot Milo in a hurry. Milo found him walking about
his room, taking long, carefully accurate strides from flagstone to
flagstone.

He continued this feverish devotion for some minutes after his
confessor's coming-in; and seeing him deep in thought, the good man
stood patient by the doorway. So presently Richard seemed aware of him,
stopped in mid walk, and looking at him, said--

'Milo, continence is, I suppose, of all virtues the most excellent?'
Milo prepared to expatiate.

'Undoubtedly, sire, it is so, because of all virtues the least
comfortable. Saint Chrysostom, indeed, goes so far as to declare--'; but
Richard broke in.

'And therefore, Milo, it is urge