In the excitement which King Richard’s death produced in England, Eleanor contrived to secure an appearance of justice in John’s sovereignty. A spurious will of Henry the Second’s was opened by her, by the provisions of which John was given the crown, regardless of the legitimate claims of the son of Geoffrey, his oldest brother. By this means Arthur was also cut off from the succession. The injustice was clear enough; but John, with the aid of a strong following of the nobles, whom he had secured by artifice and promises, kept possession of power. The time was now come for Philip Augustus openly and without delay to maintain Arthur’s rights. Nothing less was at stake than the title to the English crown. John was declared a throne-robber, and was summoned as a feudal tenant before the French tribunal. In case of disobedience war would be declared against him. John had already made his plans to go to France at the head of an army, with the intention, as far as he was able, of permanently wresting the English provinces from the domination of France. He had not a doubt he could easily settle the claims of Constance and Arthur and succeed in his purpose. Determined as Philip Augustus may have been to defend Arthur’s rights, somehow the war preparations were delayed much longer than seemed safe to the Duke, who could scarcely conceal his impatience. He resolved to challenge his uncle to single combat, and reluctantly followed the advice of his mother to act with caution. “Why does Philip hesitate?” he indignantly exclaimed. “I believe the King is waiting for money,” replied Höel. Arthur contemptuously shrugged his shoulders. “Alas!” sighed Constance, “how can our plans succeed? We are very poor.” Arthur hastened to the Louvre, and although the chamberlain informed him that the King was holding an important interview, he insisted upon admission. Nothing could be more urgent than his own affairs. “It serves you right,” the King was saying as the Duke was announced. Philip was seated at a table covered with papers. By his side stood an old man in a cringing attitude, who cast a hasty glance at Arthur as he entered. “Welcome, cousin,” said the King, with a smile. “You have come in time to be a partner in our business arrangement.” He beckoned to the old man, who submissively bowed his head. His spare figure was clad in a dark cloak of heavy silk. A tall black velvet cap covered his head and his long gray locks hung down his shoulders. His attire proclaimed him a Jew, and when he began to speak his voice awakened memories in Arthur’s mind. “Your Majesty,” said the Jew, “spare us this demand. Our coffers are still empty because of the treasures you took from us not long ago, when Your Grace allowed us to return to your kingdom.” “You shall only lend to us this time,” said the King. “Upon what security?” quickly asked the Jew.