which she must and should receive as gold. He was very angry, because his vanity was hurt, and the pin-prick spurred him to a counterfeit so specious that consciously he gloried in it. He was superb, and she believed him now; there was no questioning the fact, he saw it plainly, and with exultant cruelty; and curt as lightning came the knowledge that she believed the absolute truth.
Richard had taken just two strides, and toward this fair girl. Branwen stayed motionless, her lips a little parted. The affairs of earth and heaven were motionless throughout the moment, attendant, it seemed to him; and his whole life was like a wave, to him, that trembled now at full height, and he was aware of a new world all made of beauty and of pity. Then the lute snapped between his fingers, and Richard shuddered, and his countenance was the face of a man only.
'There is a task,' he said, hoarsely—'it is God's work, I think. But I do not know—I only know that you are very beautiful, Branwen,' he said, and in the name he found a new and piercing loveliness.
More lately he said: 'Go! For I have loved so many women, and, God help me! I know that I have but to wheedle you and you, too, will yield! Yonder is God's work to be done, and within me rages a commonwealth of devils. Child! child!' he cried in agony, 'I am, and ever was, a coward, too timid to face life without reserve, and always I laughed because I was afraid to concede that anything is serious!'
For a long while Richard lay at his ease in the lengthening shadows of the afternoon.
'I love her. She thinks me an elderly imbecile with a flat and reedy singing-voice, and she is perfectly right. She has never even entertained the notion of loving me. That is well, for to-morrow, or, it may be, the day after, we must part forever. I would not have the parting make her sorrowful—or not, at least, too unalterably sorrowful. It is very well that Branwen does not love me.
'How should she? I am almost twice her age, an old fellow now, battered and selfish and too indolent to love her—say, as Gwyllem did. I did well to kill that Gwyllem. I am profoundly glad I killed him, and I thoroughly enjoyed doing it; but, after all, the man loved her in his fashion, and to the uttermost reach of his gross nature. I love her in a rather more decorous and acceptable fashion, it is true, but only a half of me loves her; and the other half of me remembers that I am aging, that Caradawc's hut is leaky, that, in fine, bodily comfort is the single luxury of which one never tires. I am a very contemptible creature, the handsome scabbard of a man, precisely as Owain said.' This settled, Richard whistled to his dog.
The sun had set, but it was not more than dusk. There were no shadows anywhere as Richard and his sheep went homeward, but on every side the colors of the world were more sombre. Twice his flock roused a covey of partridges which had settled for the night. The screech-owl had come out of his hole, and bats were already blundering about, and the air was more cool. There was as yet but one star in the green and cloudless heaven, and this was very large, like a beacon, and it appeared to him symbolical that he trudged away from it.
Next day the Welshmen came, and now the trap was ready for Henry of Lancaster.
It befell just two days later, about noon, that while Richard idly talked with Branwen a party of soldiers, some fifteen in number, rode down the river's bank from the ford above. Their leader paused, then gave an order. The men drew rein. He cantered forward.
'God give you joy, fair sir,' said Richard, when the cavalier was at his elbow.
The new-comer raised his visor. 'God give you eternal joy, my fair cousin,' he said, 'and very soon. Now send away this woman before that happens which must happen.'
'You design murder?' Richard said.
'I design my own preservation,' King Henry answered, 'for while you live my rule is insecure.'
'I am sorry,' Richard said, 'because in part my blood is yours.'
Twice he sounded his horn, and everywhere from rustling underwoods arose the half-naked Welshmen. 'Your men are one to ten. You are impotent. Now, now we balance our accounts!' cried Richard. 'These persons here will first deal with your followers. Then will they conduct you to Glyndwyr, who has long desired to deal with you himself, in privacy, since that WhitMonday when you stabbed his son.'
The King began: 'In mercy, sire—!' and Richard laughed a little.
'That virtue is not overabundant among us Plantagenets, as both we know. Nay, Fate and Time are merry jesters. See, now, their latest mockery! You the King of England ride to Sycharth to your death, and I the tender of sheep depart into London, without any hindrance, to reign henceforward over all these islands. To-morrow you are worm's-meat; and to-morrow, as aforetime, I am King of England.'
Then Branwen gave one sharp, brief cry, and Richard forgot all things saving this girl, and strode to her. He had caught up either of her hard, lithe hands; against his lips he strained them close and very close.
'Branwen—!' he said. His eyes devoured her.
'Yes, King,' she answered. 'O King of England! O fool that I had been to think you less!'
In a while Richard said: 'Now I choose between a peasant wench and England. Now I choose, and, ah, how gladly! O Branwen, help me to be more than King of England!'
Low and very low he spoke, and long and very long he gazed at her and neither seemed to breathe. Of what she thought I cannot tell you; but in Richard there was no power of thought, only a great wonderment. Why, between this woman and aught else there was no choice for him, he knew upon a sudden, and could never be! He was very glad. He loved the tiniest content of the world.
Meanwhile, as from an immense distance, came to this Richard the dogged voice of Henry of Lancaster. 'It is of common report in these islands that I have a better right to the throne than you. As much was told our grandfather, King Edward of happy memory, when he educated you and had you acknowledged heir to the crown, but his love was so strong for his son the Prince of Wales that nothing could alter his purpose. And indeed if you had followed even the example of the Black Prince you might still have been our King; but you have always acted so contrarily to his admirable precedents as to occasion the rumor to be generally believed throughout England that you were not, after all, his son—'
Richard had turned impatiently. 'For the love of Heaven, truncate your abominable periods. Be off with you. Yonder across that river is the throne of England, which you appear, through some hallucination, to consider a desirable possession. Take it, then; for, praise God! the sword has found its sheath.'
The King answered: 'I do not ask you to reconsider your dismissal, assuredly—Richard,' he cried, a little shaken, 'I perceive that until your death you will win contempt and love from every person.'
'Ay, for many years I have been the playmate of the world,' said Richard; 'but to-day I wash my hands, and set about another and more laudable business. I had dreamed certain dreams, indeed—but what had I to do with all this strife between the devil and the tiger? Nay, Glyndwyr will set up Mortimer against you now, and you two must fight it out. I am no more his tool, and no more your enemy, my cousin—Henry,' he said with quickening voice, 'there was a time when we were boys and played together, and there was no hatred between us, and I regret that time!'
'As God lives, I too regret that time!' the bluff King said. He stared at Richard for a while wherein each understood. 'Dear fool,' he said, 'there is no man in all the world but hates me saving only you.' Then the proud King clapped spurs to his proud horse and rode away.
More lately Richard dismissed his wondering marauders. Now were only he and Branwen left, alone and yet a little troubled, since either was afraid of that oncoming moment when their eyes must meet.
So Richard laughed. 'Praise God!' he wildly cried, 'I am the greatest fool unhanged!'
She answered: 'I am the happier. I am the happiest of God's creatures,' Branwen said.
And Richard meditated. 'Faith of a gentleman!' he declared; 'but you are nothing of the sort, and of this fact I happen to be quite certain.' Their lips met then and afterward their eyes; and either was too glad for laughter.
IX
The Story of the Navarrese
