“If aught ails thee, if I can aid thee, swear to me that thou wilt send to me.” Henry laughed with somewhat of a tone of mockery, adding, “Well, well—keep thou thy plight to me so long as I want thee not, and I will keep mine to thee if ever I should need thee. Now away with thee. I hear the horses impatient for thee; and what would be the lot of the beggar if he were seen chattering longer with a lordly young page than might suffice for his plaint? I hear voices. Put a tester in my dish, fair Sir, for appearance’ sake. Thou hast it not? aha—I told thee I was the richer as well as the freer man. What’s that? That is no ring of coin.” “’Tis a fair jewel, father, green and sparkling,” cried Bessee. “Nay, nay, I’ll have none of it. Some token from thy new masters? Ha, boy?” “From the Princess, on New Year’s Day,” replied Richard. “But keep it, oh, keep it, Henry; it breaks my heart to leave thee thus.” “Keep it! Not I. What wouldst say to thy dainty dame? Nor should I get half its value from the Jews. No, no, take back thy jewel, Sir Page; I’ll not put thee in need of telling more lies than becomes thine office.” Richard glowed with irritation; but what was the use of anger with a blind beggar? And while Henry bestowed far more demonstration of affection on Leonillo than on his brother, it became needful to mount and ride off, resolving to tell the Prince and Princess, what would be no falsehood, that the child belonged to a Kenilworth man-at-arms, sorely wounded at Evesham, and at present befriended by the Knights of St. John. Old Sir Robert Darcy knew so much that it was needful to confide fully in him; and he gave Richard some satisfaction by a promise to watch over his brother as far as was possible with a man of such uncertain vagrant habits; and he likewise engaged to let him know, even in the Holy Land, of any change in the beggar’s condition; and this, considering the wide-spread connections of the Order, and that some of its members were sure to be in any crusading army, was all that Richard could reasonably hope. “Canst write?” asked Sir Robert. “Yea, Father.” “I could once! But if there be need to send thee a scroll, I’ll take care it is writ by a trusty hand.”