“What, dreaming again?” “No no! I am well, I am strong. But this _is_ the land of enchantment! Thou knowst it is. Did we not see a fleet of fairy boats sailing on the sea? and a leaf eat up a fly here on this very tent pole? And did not the Fay Morgaine show us towns and castles and churches in the sea? Thou didst not call me light-headed then, Richard; thou sawest it too!” “But this wraith of mine! Where didst see it?” “In this tent. I was lying on the sand, trying if I could make it hold enough to build a castle of it, when the curtain was put back, and there thou stoodest, Richard!” “Well, did I speak or vanish?” “Oh, thou spakest—I mean the _thing_ spake, and it said, ‘Is this the tent of the young Lord of Montfort?’ How now—what have I said?” “Whom did he ask for?” demanded Richard breathlessly. “Montfort—young Lord de Montfort!” replied John; “I know it was, for he said it twice over.” “And what didst thou answer?” “What should I answer? I said we had no Montforts here; for they were all dishonoured traitors, slain and outlawed.” Richard could not restrain a sudden indignant exclamation that startled the boy. “Every one says so! My father says so!” he returned, somewhat defiantly. “Not of the Earl,” said Richard, recollecting himself. “He said every one of the young Montforts was a foul traitor, and man-sworn tyrant, as bad as King John had been ere the Charter,” repeated John hotly, “and their father was as bad, since he would give no redress. Thou knowst how they served us in Somerset and Devon!” “I have heard, I have heard,” said Richard, cutting short the story, and controlling his own burning pain, glad that the darkness concealed his face. “No more of that; but tell me, what said this stranger?” “Thou thinkest it was really a stranger, and not thy wraith?” said John anxiously. “I hope it was, for Dame Idonea said if it were a wraith, it betokened that thou wouldst not—live long—and oh, Richard! I could not spare thee!” And the little fellow came nestling up to his friend’s breast in an access of tenderness, such as perhaps he would have disdained save in the darkness. “Did Dame Idonea see him?” asked Richard. “No; but she came in soon after he had vanished.” “Vanished! What, like Fay Morgaine’s castles? Tell me in sooth, John; it imports me to know. What did this stranger, when thou spakest thus of the House of Montfort?” “He answered,” said John; “he did not answer courteously—he said, that I was a malapert little ass, and demanded again where this young Montfort’s tent was. So then I said, that if a Montfort dared to show his traitor’s face in this camp, the Prince would hang him as high as Judas; for I wanted to be rid of him, Richard! it was so dreadful to see thy face, and hear thy voice talking French, and asking for dead traitors.” “French!” said Richard. “Methought thou knewst no French!”