red, 'I do not know you.'
'I am Youth,' he said; 'take back your weapon.'"

"It is true," she responded, "it is lamentably true that after to-night
we are as different persons, you and I."

He said: "Jehane, do you not love me any longer? Remember old years
and do not break your oath with me, Jehane, since God abhors nothing so
much as perfidy. For your own sake, Jehane--ah, no, not for your sake
nor for mine, but for the sake of that blithe Jehane, whom, so you tell
me, time has slain!"

Once or twice she blinked, as dazzled by a light of intolerable
splendor, but otherwise sat rigid. "You have dared, messire, to
confront me with the golden-hearted, clean-eyed Navarrese that once was
I! and I requite." The austere woman rose. "Messire, you swore to me,
long since, an eternal service. I claim my bond. Yonder prim
man--gray-bearded, the man in black and silver--is the Earl of
Worcester, the King of England's ambassador, in common with whom the
wealthy dowager of Brittany has signed a certain contract. Go you,
then, with Worcester into England, as my proxy, and in that island, as
my proxy, wed the King of England. Messire, your audience is done."

Latterly Riczi said this: "Can you hurt me any more, Jehane?--nay, even
in hell they cannot hurt me now. Yet I, at least, keep faith, and in
your face I fling faith like a glove--old-fashioned, it may be, but
clean--and I will go, Jehane."

Her heart raged. "Poor, glorious fool!" she thought; "had you but the
wit even now to use me brutally, even now to drag me from this dais--!"
Instead he went from her smilingly, treading through the hall with many
affable salutations, while always the jongleur sang.

Sang the jongleur:

"_There is a land the rabble rout
Knows not, whose gates are barred
By Titan twins, named Fear and Doubt,
That mercifully guard
The land we seek--the land so fair!--
And all the fields thereof,_

"_Where daffodils grow everywhere
About the Fields of Love--
Knowing that in the Middle-Land
A tiny pool there lies
And serpents from the slimy strand
Lift glittering cold eyes._

"_Now, the parable all may understand,
And surely you know the name o' the land!
Ah, never a guide or ever a chart
May safely lead you about this land,--
The Land of the Human Heart!_"

And the following morning, being duly empowered, Antoine Riczi sailed
for England in company with the Earl of Worcester, and u