  Arthur was in the field several months with Philip, and though he had to endure all that powerful warrior’s severe discipline, he fought for him as valiantly as he would have done for himself. All this time the enemy remained unsubdued; but at last the King, having cut off all probable chance of escape, looked for a decisive result. The day for the attack was fixed, and everything was made ready. On the evening before the battle, after issuing his orders, the King retired to his tent to read some letters which a messenger had brought from Paris. The chancellor urgently entreated him to return, for disorder was spreading, and the finances were in such desperate condition that he could procure no more money. “Ha!” said the King to himself, “how shall we meet the needs of the Empire? There is but one way. The Jews must empty their pockets. The ban shall be raised. We expelled them to please the Pope, who is now secretly plotting with my enemies against me and annoying me in every way.” The King called for his secretary, but instead of that official a knight suddenly entered the tent. Recognizing Arthur, he waited for him to speak. “Oh, my King,” said Arthur excitedly, “I have had news from my uncle.” Philip frowned and asked, “What does John want now?” “My news is not from John; I am speaking of Richard. He is free. He is no longer a prisoner in the castle of Trifels.” “How,” interrupted the King, “has the ransom been furnished?” “He is free,” repeated Arthur; “a deserter from the Netherlands brought the tidings. Richard has embarked on the Holland coast. They recognized him, though he went there in disguise.” “Alone!” said the astonished King. “Oh, the Lion-hearted!” “Without doubt he has crossed to England,” continued Arthur excitedly, “and now it is time my King, for me to hasten to his assistance.” “Thoughtless youth!” broke in Philip, “would you forsake me before the end of the campaign and ingloriously leave before we know whether Richard has actually reached his fatherland?” Arthur grew thoughtful, and retired to consult HÖel and Alan. The latter was eager to go, for he was not enthusiastic in his devotion to Philip; he would rather have fought for Richard. But HÖel twirled his gray mustache and shook his head. He feared Richard’s rash and unstable disposition, and knew that he could not be relied upon. “Philip is right in this matter,” he said. “Let us first dispose of this Fleming; after that it will be time to think of the other matter.” The battle was fought the next day, and resulted in the defeat of the Count of Flanders after a stout resistance. The King himself led his warriors, sword in hand, in an attack upon the enemy, who were seeking to hold a bridge. His battle-cry, “Montjoie St. Denis!” The victory was won. The enemy were driven over the bridge, and threw away their arms. The King warmly congratulated Arthur upon his bravery, but did not grant his request for leave of absence. Arthur reluctantly submitted rather than make his appearance before Richard as a fugitive without knights or warriors. In the meantime Richard reached England; and as soon as he had announced his presence to his friends he ascended the throne amid popular rejoicings, John yielding his claim with seeming willingness. About the same time Philip returned to Paris; Arthur accompanied him, and was so delighted to see his mother and bride once more that he forgot his longing to go to Richard. Banquets and tournaments were arranged by the court, and Arthur, because of his bravery, was the central figure among all the youthful heroes. So continuous were the feasts and sports that he hardly had time for thought. One morning Alan, equipped and spurred as for a long ride, came to Arthur’s bedside and woke him, saying, “Richard is in France.” “Let us hasten to him, then,” said Arthur, springing up. “You had better not go. It will only occasion needless delay. Let me go to your uncle,” implored Alan. “I can reach him quickly. He is about to attack the Duke of Limoges, and is camped with his little army before the fortress of Chalus. I will tell him all, and if he calls you, you need no longer hesitate. Let me go, my Prince, and keep my mission a secret from the court. They are playing false with you, one and all.” Alan rushed out, and Arthur looked after him in surprise. Only HÖel knew of his son’s undertaking, and he gave out that he had sent him away. Philip, who was well apprised of what was going on, kept quiet, and only sought to attach Arthur to him still more closely. When the entertainment came to an end, Philip left the Louvre to hold court at CompiÈgne But suddenly these happy revellers were recalled to the realities of life by a fearful occurrence. King Richard the Lion-hearted was dead before Chalus—killed by an arrow. Arthur could not believe the dreadful news until Alan, pale and exhausted by his hard ride, arrived and confirmed it. He came from the spot, was with the King when he received his death wound, and brought his last message of continued faith in Arthur’s loyalty and uprightness, and his wish that he could once more see his nephew. But, alas, it was too late now! The great Lion-hearted was gone, and John mounted the vacant throne. “Never, so long as I live, will I relinquish my paternal inheritance,” exclaimed Arthur. |
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