The King signed to Jehane to bend down her head.  So she did, and even thus could barely hear him.

‘I must die in peace if I can, sweet soul,’ he muttered.  They all saw that the end was not far off.  ’Tell me what will become of thee when I am gone.’  She stroked his cheek.

’I shall go back to my husband and children, dear one.  I have left three behind me, all sons.’

‘Are they good to thee?  Art thou happy?’

’I am at peace with myself, wife of a wise old man; I love my children, and have the memory of thee, Richard.  These will suffice me.’

‘There is one more thing for thee to give me, my Jehane.’  She smiled pityingly.

‘Why, what is left to give, Richard?’ He said in her ear, ’Our boy Fulke.’

‘Ah,’ said Jehane.  The Queen was now watching her intently between her hands.

‘Jehane, Jehane,’ said King Richard, sweating with the effort to be heard, ’all our life together thou hast been giving and I spending, thou miser that I might play the prodigal.  For the last time I ask of thee:  deny me not.  Wilt thou stay here with Fulke our son?’

Jehane could not speak; she shook her head, and showed him her eyes all blind with tears.  The tears came freely, from more eyes than hers.  Richard’s head dropped back, and for a full minute they thought him gone.  But no.  He opened his eyes again and moved his lips.  They strained to hear him.  ‘The sponge, the sponge,’ he said:  then, ’Bring me in Saint-Pol.’  The cold light began to steal in through the crannies of the tent.

The young man was brought in by Des Barres, in chains.  Jehane, now behind Richard’s head, lifted him up in her arms.

‘Knock off those fetters,’ says the King.  Saint-Pol was free.

‘Eustace,’ says Richard, ’you and I have bandied hard words enough, and blows enough.  My chains will be off before sunrise, and yours are off already.  Answer me, is Gurdun dead?’

Saint-Pol dropped to his knees.  ’Oh, my lord, he died where he fell.  But as God knows, he had no hand in this, nor had I.’

‘If I know it, I suppose God knows it too,’ said Richard, smiling rather thinly.  ’Now, Eustace, I have a word to say.  I have done much against your name; to your brother because he spoke against a great lady and ill of my house; to your sister here, because I loved her not well enough and myself too well.  Eustace, you shall kiss her before I go.’

Saint-Pol got up and went to her.  Brother and sister kissed each other above the King’s head.  Then said Richard, ’Now I will tell you that I had nothing to do with the death of your cousin Montferrat.’

‘Oh, sire! oh, sire!’ cried Saint-Pol; but Jehane looked at her brother.

‘I had to do with that, Eustace,’ she said.  ’He laid the death of the King, and I laid his death at the price of my marriage.  He deserved it.’

‘Sister,’ said Saint-Pol, ’he did deserve it; and I deserve what he had.  Oh, sire,’ he urged with tears, ’take my life, as your right is, but forgive me first.’