One was present who did feel what the singer felt, and that was the princess who sat as still as if she were carven there.... Garin of the Golden Island won the golden falcon that was the duke’s prize. A week went by. A second began to drift into the past, winter day by winter day. Messengers now rode into Angoulême and through the castle gates, and were brought to Duke Richard. They came from the lords of Aquitaine encamped before Roche-de-Frêne, and they bore tidings of obedience. The host helped no longer in this war. When the messengers departed it was in act of lifting from all its encampments; even now it would be withdrawing from the lands of Roche-de-Frêne. Richard sent this word in state to the princess in Angoulême. A day later there spurred at dusk into Angoulême a cloaked and hooded lord, behind him three or four, knights or squires. The following morn the first won through to Richard’s presence. The two were alone together a considerable time. Those who waited without the room heard rise and fall of voices.... At last came the lion’s note in Richard’s voice, but it changed and fell away. He was speaking now with an icy reasonableness. That passed to a very still, pointed utterance with silences between.... The other made passionate answer. Richard’s speech took a sternness and energy which in him marked the lion sublimated. Then a bell was struck; the attendants, when they opened the door, had a glimpse of a red-gold head and a working face, hook-nosed, with a scar upon its cheek.