“By the way in which our good lord, the king, gazes upon her, methinks that it were like enough that he broke off his engagement with the Princess of France, for the sake of the fair eyes of this damsel.”

“That were indeed a misfortune,” Cuthbert said gravely, for he saw at once the anger which such a course would excite in the minds of the French king and his knights, who would naturally be indignant in the extreme at the slight put upon their princess.  As day after day passed, it became evident to all that the King of England was infatuated by the princess.  Again he entered the lists himself, and as some fresh Italian knights and others had arrived, he found fresh opponents, and conspicuously laid the spoils of victory at the feet of the princess, whom he selected as the Queen of Beauty.

All sorts of rumours now became current in camp; violent quarrels between the kings, and bad feeling between the French and English knights, broke out again in consequence, and this more violently than before.

CHAPTER IX.

The princess Berengaria.

One night it chanced that Cuthbert was late in his return to camp, and his road took him through a portion of the French encampment; the night was dark, and Cuthbert presently completely lost all idea as to his bearings.  Presently he nearly ran against a tent; he made his way to the entrance in order to crave directions as to his way—­for it was a wet night; the rain was pouring in torrents, and few were about of whom he could demand the way—­and, as he was about to draw aside the hangings, he heard words said in a passionate voice which caused him to withdraw his hand suddenly.

“I tell you,” said a voice, “I would rather drive a dagger myself into her heart, than allow our own princess to be insulted by this hot-headed island dog.”

“It is sad indeed,” said another, but in a calmer and smoother tone, “that the success of a great expedition like this, which has for its object the recovery of the holy sepulchre from the infidels, should be wrecked by the headstrong fancies of one man.  It is even, as is told by the old Grecian poet, as when Helen caused a great war between peoples of that nation.”

“I know nothing,” another voice said, “either of Helen or the Greeks, or of their poets.  They are a shifty race, and I can believe aught that is bad of them.  But touching this princess of Navarre, I agree with our friend, it would be a righteous deed to poniard her, and so to remove the cause of dispute between the two kings, and, indeed, the two nations.  This insult laid upon our princess is more than we, as French knights and gentlemen, can brook; and if the king says the word, there is not a gentleman in the army but will be ready to turn his sword against the islanders.”

Then the smooth voice spoke again.