"Bertrade, tell me thou art real; that thou at least be no dream.""I be very real, dear heart," she answered, "and these others be real, also.When thou art stronger, thou shalt understand the strange thing that has happened.These who wert thine enemies, Norman of Torn, be thy best friends now -- that thou should know, so that thou may rest in peace until thou be better."He groped for her hand, and, finding it, closed his eyes with a faint sigh.
They bore him to a cot in an apartment next the Queen's, and all that night the mother and the promised wife of the Outlaw of Torn sat bathing his fevered forehead.The King's chirurgeon was there also, while the King and De Montfort paced the corridor without.
And it is ever thus; whether in hovel or palace; in the days of Moses, or in the days that be ours; the lamb that has been lost and is found again be always the best beloved.
Toward morning, Norman of Torn fell into a quiet and natural sleep; the fever and delirium had succumbed before his perfect health and iron constitution.The chirurgeon turned to the Queen and Bertrade de Montfort.
"You had best retire, ladies," he said, "and rest.The Prince will live."Late that afternoon he awoke, and no amount of persuasion or commands on the part of the King's chirurgeon could restrain him from arising.
"I beseech thee to lie quiet, My Lord Prince," urged the chirurgeon.
"Why call thou me prince ?" asked Norman of Torn.
"There be one without whose right it be to explain that to thee," replied the chirurgeon, "and when thou be clothed, if rise thou wilt, thou mayst see her, My Lord."The chirurgeon aided him to dress and, opening the door, he spoke to a sentry who stood just without.The sentry transmitted the message to a young squire who was waiting there, and presently the door was thrown open again from without, and a voice announced:
"Her Majesty, the Queen !"
Norman of Torn looked up in unfeigned surprise, and then there came back to him the scene in the Queen's apartment the night before.It was all a sore perplexity to him; he could not fathom it, nor did he attempt to.
And now, as in a dream, he saw the Queen of England coming toward him across the small room, her arms outstretched; her beautiful face radiant with happiness and love.
"Richard, my son !" exclaimed Eleanor, coming to him and taking his face in her hands and kissing him.
"Madame !" exclaimed the surprised man."Be all the world gone crazy ?"And then she told him the strange story of the little lost prince of England.
When she had finished, he knelt at her feet, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips.
"I did not know, Madame," he said, "or never would my sword have been bared in other service than thine.If thou canst forgive me, Madame, never can Iforgive myself."
"Take it not so hard, my son," said Eleanor of England."It be no fault of thine, and there be nothing to forgive; only happiness and rejoicing should we feel, now that thou be found again.""Forgiveness !" said a man's voice behind them."Forsooth, it be we that should ask forgiveness; hunting down our own son with swords and halters.
"Any but a fool might have known that it was no base-born knave who sent the King's army back, naked, to the King, and rammed the King's message down his messenger's throat.
"By all the saints, Richard, thou be every inch a King's son, an' though we made sour faces at the time, we be all the prouder of thee now."The Queen and the outlaw had turned at the first words to see the King standing behind them, and now Norman of Torn rose, half smiling, and greeted his father.
"They be sorry jokes, Sire," he said."Methinks it had been better had Richard remained lost.It will do the honor of the Plantagenets but little good to acknowledge the Outlaw of Torn as a prince of the blood."But they would not have it so, and it remained for a later King of England to wipe the great name from the pages of history -- perhaps a jealous king.
Presently the King and Queen, adding their pleas to those of the chirurgeon, prevailed upon him to lie down once more, and when he had done so they left him, that he might sleep again; but no sooner had the door closed behind them than he arose and left the apartment by another exit.
It was by chance that, in a deep set window, he found her for whom he was searching.She sat looking wistfully into space, an expression half sad upon her beautiful face.She did not see him as he approached, and he stood there for several moments watching her dear profile, and the rising and falling of her bosom over that true and loyal heart that had beaten so proudly against all the power of a mighty throne for the despised Outlaw of Torn.
He did not speak, but presently that strange, subtle sixth sense which warns us that we are not alone, though our eyes see not nor our ears hear, caused her to turn.
With a little cry she arose, and then, curtsying low after the manner of the court, said:
"What would My Lord Richard, Prince of England, of his poor subject ?" And then, more gravely, "My Lord, I have been raised at court, and I understand that a prince does not wed rashly, and so let us forget what passed between Bertrade de Montfort and Norman of Torn.""Prince Richard of England will in no wise disturb royal precedents," he replied, "for he will wed not rashly, but most wisely, since he will wed none but Bertrade de Montfort." And he who had been the Outlaw of Torn took the fair young girl in his arms, adding: "If she still loves me, now that Ibe a prince ?"
She put her arms about his neck, and drew his cheek down close to hers.
"It was not the outlaw that I loved, Richard, nor be it the prince I love now; it be all the same to me, prince or highwayman -- it be thee I love, dear heart -- just thee."
End