This was done.  Jehane, when Beziers was ready, flung open the door.  Out he shot like a bolt, and she shut it behind him.  The old King got wind of him, spurred off with five or six at his heels, such as happened to be mounted.  Richard fell back from the entry, got out his horse, and came forward.  As he came he stooped and picked up Jehane, who, with a quick nestling movement, settled into his shield arm.  Roussillon and Gaston in like manner got their horses; then at a signal they drove out of the tower into the midst of the Normans.  There was a wild scuffle.  Richard got a side blow on the knee, but in return he caught Drago de Merlou under the armpit and well-nigh cut him in half.  Taillefer and Gilles de Gurdun set upon him together, and one of them wounded him in the shoulder.  But Taillefer got more than he gave, for he fell almost as he delivered his blow, and broke his jaw against a rock.  As for Gurdun, Richard hurtled full into him, bore him backwards, and threw him also.  Jehane safe in arms, he rode over him where he lay.  But lastly, pounding through the tussocks in the faint grey light, he met his father charging full upon him, intent to cut him off.  ‘Avoid me, father,’ he cried out.  ‘By God,’ said the King, ‘I will not.  I am for you, traitorous beast.’  They came together, and Richard heard the old man’s breath roaring like a foundered horse’s.  He held his sword arm out stiffly to parry the blow.  The King’s sword shivered and fell harmless as Richard shot by him.  Turning as he rode (to be sure he had done him no more hurt), he saw the wicked grey face of his father cursing him beyond redemption; and that was the last living sight of it he had.

They got clean away without the loss of a man of theirs, reached the lands of the Count of Perche, and there found a company of sixty knights come out to look for Richard.  With them he rode down through Maine to Le Mans, which had fallen, and now held the French King.  Richard’s triumphant humour carried him strange lengths.  As they came near to the gates of Le Mans, ‘Now,’ he said, ’they shall see me, like a pious knight, bear my holy banner before me.’  He made Jehane stand up in the saddle in front of him; he held her there firmly by one long arm.  So he rode in the midst of his knights through the thronged streets to the church of Saint-Julien, Jehane Saint-Pol pillared before him like a saint.  The French king made much of him, and to Jehane was respectful.  Prince John was there, the Duke of Burgundy, the Dauphin of Auvergne, all the great men.  To Richard was given the Bishop’s house; Jehane stayed with the Canonesses of Premonstre.  But he saw her every day.

CHAPTER XI

OF PROPHECY; AND JEHANE IN THE PERILOUS BED