“_Pardi_, you must have your favourite,” he retorted gloomily. “If you had given the care to Edward you do to Richard he might have been on his feet to welcome me.” Jehanne turned abruptly away, smarting from the injustice of the rebuke. “If you had spared Limoges,” she answered, “God’s judgment would not have fallen on you in this matter.” The Prince shrank against the wall and lifted tortured eyes. Instantly she was on her knees before him. “Forgive me,” she said passionately. He did not speak a word; his thin hand lightly touched the silver caul that bound her fair hair, but his eyes had moved to his son. The little Prince slept again, though uneasily, with moans and twitchings in his limbs. “I might have spared Limoges,” muttered Edward, “but I had sworn by my father’s soul.” Jehanne kissed the hand that had been withdrawn from her head. “Come away for a little while,” she pleaded, “while he sleeps.” He rose and suffered her to lead him into the next chamber, where he lay exhausted along the couch by the oriel window and sent for his beloved brother, the Duke of Lancaster. Jehanne sat silently by his side on a little stool, her brow furrowed and her cheeks colourless; she had never seen the Prince so silent, so weak, so troubled. She was relieved when the magnificent Johan, still in his camail and surtout, full of vigour and energy, entered the chamber. “How goes the lading of the ship?” asked Edward of Wales. “We sail with the first fair wind.” “_Pardi_,” said the Duke in his deep voice, “I have no time to go down to the shore yet, but I do not think they will make delays.” “Surely,” said the Prince. “I am right weary of Acquitaine.” And he gave a sigh as if he would burst his bosom. “Yet I must see more of it,” returned Johan, coming to salute the Princess, which he did with good will, being close in sincere friendship with this lady. The Prince lay back languidly. “How can you keep a foothold without money?” he asked impatiently. Johan’s deep eyes rested lovingly on his brother’s changed face. “By St. George,” he said, “if I can keep these fiefs no other way, I will out of my own revenues and charges support the war—” Edward looked at him fully, and the tears washed the eyes of the Princess. “Seigneur,” she said, “you can with a very comfortable heart return to England, knowing how loyally Johan will uphold you here.” She felt warmly towards Johan, for she knew that it was he who had turned aside the Prince’s vengeance from Jean le Cros and saved him from the crime of taking the life of a son of the Church. Perhaps the Prince thought of that too; perhaps he thought that the blood of the three thousand slain in Limoges was as heavy a burden to bear as the blood of a bishop. “Ay, save Acquitaine, Johan,” he murmured, “for the honour of England.”