"I have sinned, and I have had my punishment. My kingdom is gone, and my glory. Henceforward Henry Plantagenet will be the name but of a vanquished and feeble old man. The one whom I loved, and would have forgiven as many times as they had asked forgiveness, have all, save one, left me and turned against me. I am like a man, wrecked and tempest-tossed, clinging for hope to a single spar. Yet I bless Heaven for that. Ruin I can submit to, dishonour I can survive, defeat I can endure, while yet there is one child left to me of whom it can be said, `He loved his father to the end.' And such a son is John. I charge you all, honour him as you honour me, for though I have sworn to yield the crown of England to his brother, Normandy, and all I possess besides, belongs to _him_. But where is he? Why tarries he? A week has passed since he was here. Where stays he?" Before any of the attendants could reply, a knocking was heard without, and entrance demanded for the messengers of Philip of France. "We are come," said they, "from our sovereign with the articles of treaty between yourself and him, arranged at your late conference, and which now await your ratification." Henry motioned to them to proceed to business; and as each article was read--declaring his allegiance to the crown of France and his cession of his own crown to Richard--he inclined his head mechanically in token of his assent, manifesting little or no interest in the proceeding. But his attention became more fixed when the article was read which provided for the free pardon of all who had in any way, secretly or openly, been engaged in the cause of his rebel son. He turned in his bed towards the reader, and said: "A king must know the names of his enemies before he can pardon them. Read me, therefore, the list of those who have rebelled, that I may forgive them each and all, beginning with the noblest, down to the meanest." He lay back on his bed, and half closed his eyes as he listened. The messenger of Philip then said, "The first and foremost of your majesty's enemies is John Plantagenet, your youngest son." He sprang with a sudden cry of pain into a sitting posture, and trembling in every fibre, and with a voice half choked, cried, "Who says that?" Then glaring wildly at the envoy, he whispered, "Read it again!" "The first and foremost of your majesty's enemies is John Plantagenet, your youngest son." "Can it be true?" gasped the poor father, in helpless despair. "Has he also deserted me? Then let everything go as it will; I care no more for myself, nor for the world." So saying, with his heart broken, he sank back upon the bed, from which he never rose again. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. ARTHUR OF BRITTANY, THE BOY WHO SHOULD HAVE BEEN KING OF ENGLAND.