[Footnote 3: Richard's attempt to obtain possession of the person of Richmond by bribing Landais, the duke of Britanny's minister, is too well known to need particular notice.] --------------- The next instant Richard entered the closet, and Sir Charles Weinants passed him, bowing low and reverently. But the king took no farther notice of him than merely by giving a slow and inquiring glance, from under his bent brows, at the face of his envoy; and then seating himself in a chair, he suffered one of two persons who followed him into the room to withdraw his arm from his doublet, the barber-surgeon, who was close behind, directing the valet particularly to give him the left arm, as that was nearest to the heart. The servant then held a silver basin, while the operator made his preparations and opened a vein. During all this time Richard uttered not a word, but sat with his brows contracted, and his dark thoughtful eyes fixed upon vacancy, till the sombre red bleed began to flow forth from the vein; and then he turned his look upon the stream, and seemed to watch it curiously. At length, he lifted his right hand to his head, saying, "I am better--open the window. Give me air;" and the servant instantly hurried to obey his commands. The barber suffered the blood still to flow on, for a little while, and then bound up the king's arm. "I am better," said Richard. "I am better;" and, stretching forth his hands, he added, in an imperative tone. "Leave me--all leave me! I am better--I would be alone." The whole party hastened to obey, and, as soon as they were gone, Richard, the iron-spirited relentless Richard, placed his hands before his eyes, and wept. It is a terrible sight to see a man weep at any time. What must it have been to see tears forced from such a heart as Richard's! CHAPTER XIII. Let us take up the history of the woodman, after he and the bishop of Ely had quitted Lord Chartley. They crossed rapidly over the road, hearing the sound of horses advancing, and of men speaking, as they did so. Neither uttered a word; and the prelate was hastily directing his steps towards a spot where, by the dim light, he saw what seemed a continuation of the path he had just quitted, but the woodman seized his arm, and drew him on a little way up the road to a place where the bushes seemed so thick as to afford no passage through them. Putting aside the branches, however, with his sturdy arm, Boyd dragged rather than led Morton forward; and, for some way, the good bishop fancied that they should never find a path again, so thick and difficult seemed the copse. It extended not fifty yards, however; and, though somewhat scratched by the brambles, which clung round his feet and legs at every step, Morton, at length, found himself emerging into an open part of the wood, where the ground was covered with thick fern, out of which, every here and there, rose an old hawthorn or the bushy shoots of an oak or beech felled long ago.