“He was the very next king after Richard, wasn’t he? Oh yes, of course. He was the man who usurped the throne, and had poor Richard murdered.” Directly they reached the parlour at home, Betty ran to the bookcase for a “Shakespeare,” and Godmother turned to the play. “I must tell you what had happened before the few last words which are all I’m going to read!” she said. “King Henry the Fourth was setting out on a journey to the Holy Land, and just before he started, he went to pray in the Abbey. But there, before the altar, he was suddenly taken ill, and became unconscious. They carried him into the Abbot’s guest-chamber—the Jerusalem Room which you’ve just seen, but later moved him to another apartment. There when he was dying, remembering the place to which he had first been carried from the Abbey, he said: ‘Doth any name particular belong Unto the lodging where I first did swoon?’ and Earl Warwick answered: ‘’Tis called _Jerusalem_, my noble lord.’ “Then the king, remembering a prophecy about the place of his death, replied: ‘Laud be to Heaven!—even there my life must end. It hath been prophesied to me many years, I should not die but in Jerusalem; Which vainly I supposed the Holy Land:— But bear me to that chamber; there I’ll lie; In that Jerusalem shall Harry die.’” “And that’s true? He really _did_ die there?” asked Betty. “Yes. So in a way the old prophecy, you see, was fulfilled, for he died in a room _called_ ‘Jerusalem.’ There too, according to the old story which Shakespeare also tells in the same play, Prince Henry, when he was watching by his father’s bedside, put on the crown he was afterwards to wear as Henry the Fifth. But we’re getting too far away from the days of Richard the Second, and as we’re going back to them as soon as we’ve had tea, I mustn’t confuse you.” Later on in the afternoon, when the magic rite of book and chain had been duly performed, to her great delight Betty found herself again standing at the gate leading on to London Bridge. After a short interval of modern days, she was delighted to be once more back in the Middle Ages. “You remember _Thames_ Street?” said Godmother,—“the street so crowded this morning with motor lorries that we had to turn out of it? Well, here it is!”