‘Duke of Burgundy,’ he said, leaning over his chair and talking low, ’you are no Frenchman, and the more of a man on that account.  You and I have had our differences.  I have blamed you, and you me.  But I have never found you a laggard when there was work for the sword or adventure for the heart.  Now, of all adventures in the world the highest in which a man may engage is here.  Across those hills lies the city of God, of which (I suppose) no soul among us might, unhelped, dare hope the sight, much less the touch, least of all the redemption.  I tell you, Duke of Burgundy, there is that within me (not my own) which will lead you thither with profit, glory and honour.  Will you trust me?  So far as I have gone along with you I have done reasonably well.  Did I scatter the heathen at Arsuf?  No thanks to you, Burgundy, but I did.  Did I hold a safe course to Joppa?  Have I then brought you so near, and myself so near, for nothing at all?  If I have been a fool in my day, I am not a fool now.  I speak what I know.  With this host I can save the city.  Without the best of it, I can do nothing.  What do you say, my lord?  Will you let Beauvais take his Frenchmen to dishonour, and you and your Burgundians play for honour with me?  The prize is great, the reward sure, here or in heaven.  What do you say, Duke of Burgundy?’

His voice shook by now, and all the bystanders watched without breath the heavy, brooding, mottled man over against him.  He, faithful to his nature, looked at the Bishop of Beauvais.  But Beauvais was looking at his ring.

‘What do you say, my lord?’ again asked King Richard.

The Duke of Burgundy was troubled:  he blinked, looking at Saint-Pol.  But Saint-Pol was looking at the tent-roof.

‘Be pleased to look at me,’ said Richard; and the man did look, working under his wrongs.

‘By God, Richard,’ said the Duke of Burgundy, ‘you owe me forty pound!’

King Richard laughed till he was helpless.

‘It may be, it may well be,’ he gasped between the throes of his mirth.  ’O lump of clay!  O wonderful half-man!  O most expressive river-horse!  You shall be paid and sent about your business.  Archbishop, be pleased to pay this man his bill.  I will content you, Burgundy, with money; but I will be damned before I take you to Jerusalem.  My lords,’ he said, altering voice and look in a moment, ’I will conduct you to the ships.  Since I am not strong enough for Jerusalem I will go to Ascalon.  But you!  By the living God, you shall go back to France.’  He dismissed them all, and next day broke up his camp.