“Welcome to our trusty governor!” cried Edward heartily, as he held out his hand to the new-comer, who kissed it reverently. “Thou comest, I doubt not, worthy Sir Aymery, to report all well with our good town of Calais; for how should it be otherwise than safe and thriving, in the care of so faithful and loyal a warder as thou art?”
It was strange to see the Lombard look so pale and troubled at this flattering welcome from the king’s own mouth; but Edward went on without seeming to notice his confusion, though still watching him keenly.
“We have called thee hither, Sir Governor, to ask thy counsel touching a certain matter of weight, knowing thee to be wise and trusty.”
The knight, whose dry lips seemed to have lost all power of speech, replied only with a low bow.
“A certain lord of my court,” resumed the king, “gave into the keeping of one who was his friend a jewel of great price, which he prized above all else that he had; and it came to his ears that this friend whom he trusted had pawned that gem to a cozening knave of France for twenty thousand crowns. What, think’st thou, should be done unto such a traitor?”
The Lombard’s dark face grew white as ashes, and his limbs trembled under him.
“Ha! thou understandest!” cried the king, in a voice like the roll of distant thunder. “Aymery of Pavia, I have rewarded and honoured thee, and given to thy charge what I prized beyond aught save my wife and children; and how hast thou repaid me? By trafficking with my foes, and covenanting to betray to them my city of Calais! Can a Lombard gentleman sell his honour, and a Christian man his soul, for twenty thousand beggarly crowns, the Judas-wage that Geoffrey de Chargny was to pay thee? What canst thou say for thyself, ere I deal with thee as a convicted felon and traitor?”
“Mercy, gentle king, mercy!” shrieked the unmasked villain, throwing himself at Edward’s feet, and clinging to them in an agony of entreaty. “All your grace saith is true, but there is still time to break the bargain, for I have not yet, so help me Heaven, received one penny of the money!”
The king smiled in bitter scorn, for though he too often used such wretches without scruple for his own ends, an utter loathing of all that was mean and treacherous was ever strong in his bold English heart.
“Stand up, and hearken to me,” said he, sternly. “Thou shalt return to Calais, and bear thyself to De Chargny as if nought had chanced. Tell him thou wilt be ready to deliver up the town on New Year’s Eve, and on these terms I give thee thy life.”