Sir Robert smiled, saying, “Thou dost miscalculate thy brother’s stature, son.” And at the same moment Richard, who was now little short of his Cousin Edward in height, was kneeling by Henry, accepting and returning his embrace with agitation and gratitude, such as showed how their relative positions in the family still maintained their force; but Richard still asserted his independence so as to say, “When you have heard all, brother you will see that there is no need of pardoning me.” Henry, however, as perhaps Sir Robert had foreseen, instead of answering put his hand to his side, and sank back in a paroxysm of pain, ending in another swoon. The child stood by, quiet and frightened but too much used to similar occurrences to be as much terrified as was Richard, who thought his brother dying; but calling in the serving-brother, the old Hospitalier did all that was needed, and the blind man presently recovered and explained in a feeble voice that he had been jostled, thrown down, and trodden on, at the moment when he lost his hold of his little daughter; and this was evidently renewing his sufferings from the effect of an injury received in battle. “And what took thee there, son?” said Sir Robert, somewhat sharply. “The harvest, Father,” answered Henry, rousing himself to speak with a certain sarcasm in his tone. “It is the beggars’ harvest wherever King Henry goes. We brethren of the wallet cannot afford to miss such windfalls.” “A beggar!” exclaimed Richard in horror. “And what art thou?” retorted Henry, with a sudden fierceness. “Listen, young men,” said Sir Robert, “this I know, my patient there will soon be nothing if ye continue in this strain. A litter shall bring him to the infirmary.” “Nay,” said Henry hastily, “not so, good Father. Here I abide, hap what may.” “And I abide with him,” said Richard. “Not so, I say,” returned the Hospitalier, “unless thou wouldst slay him outright. Return to the Spital with me; and at morn, if he have recovered himself, unravel these riddles as thou and he will.” “It is well, Father,” said Henry. “Go with him, Richard; but mark me. Be silent as the grave, and see me again.” And reluctant as he was, Richard was forced to comply. CHAPTER VI THE BEGGAR EARL “Along with the nobles that fell at that tyde, His eldest son Henrye, who fought by his syde, Was felde by a blow he receivde in the fight; A blow that for ever deprivde him of sight.” _Old Beggar_.