'No! no! How? I—his guest?'
'Il Moro will find his pleasure in it. Sire, you understand not this people here!'
'Well then, well! As you will. It is your affair.'
'Your Majesty may be at ease. A single word——'
'Speak no more, Thibaut. It mislikes me. Have I not said 'tis your work. I have nothing to say to it. Do what you choose!'
Thibaut bowed and withdrew.
Upon reaching the foot of the stair the king frowned and scratched his head, trying to recall his thoughts.
'Brissonet! Brissonet! What was I saying? Ah yes—to defend—offended innocence. I am sworn knight——'
'Your Majesty must quit these thoughts. They fit not with the present moment. Later, when we shall have returned victorious from Jerusalem——'
'Jerusalem!' echoed the king, and his eyes dilated, and on his lips came a pale, faint, dreamy smile.