made them false to the noblest vow ever
knights were sworn to--has made them indifferent to their fame, and
forgetful of their God!"

"For the love of Heaven, my liege," said De Vaux, "take it less
violently--you will be heard without doors, where such speeches are but
too current already among the common soldiery, and engender discord and
contention in the Christian host. Bethink you that your illness mars the
mainspring of their enterprise; a mangonel will work without screw and
lever better than the Christian host without King Richard."

"Thou flatterest me, De Vaux," said Richard, and not insensible to
the power of praise, he reclined his head on the pillow with a more
deliberate attempt to repose than he had yet exhibited. But Thomas
de Vaux was no courtier; the phrase which had offered had risen
spontaneously to his lips, and he knew not how to pursue the pleasing
theme so as to soothe and prolong the vein which he had excited. He was
silent, therefore, until, relapsing into his moody contemplations, the
King demanded of him sharply, "Despardieux! This is smoothly said to
soothe a sick man; but does a league of monarchs, an assemblage or
nobles, a convocation of all the chivalry of Europe, droop with the
sickness of one man, though he chances to be King of England? Why
should Richard's illness, or Richard's death, check the march of thirty
thousand men as brave as himself? When the master stag is struck down,
the herd do not disperse upon his fall; when the falcon strikes the
leading crane, another takes the guidance of the phalanx. Why do not
the powers assemble and choose some one to whom they may entrust the
guidance of the host?"

"Forsooth, and if it please your Majesty," said De Vaux, "I hear
consultations have been held among the royal leaders for some such
purpose."

"Ha!" exclaimed Richard, his jealousy awakened, giving his mental
irritation another direction, "am I forgot by my allies ere I have taken
the last sacrament? Do they hold me dead already? But no, no, they are
right. And whom do they select as leader of the Christian host?"

"Rank and dignity," said De Vaux, "point to the King of France."

"Oh, ay," answered the English monarch, "Philip of France and
Navarre--Denis Mountjoie--his most Christian Majesty! Mouth-filling
words these! There is but one risk--that he might mistake the words EN
ARRIERE for EN AVANT, and lead us back to Paris, instead of marching to
Jerusalem. His politic head h