"For form's sake, we must have some one to be hostage for your faith," said the king, "and then good knight, you shall have as much liberty as a prisoner may.--Who will be William of Salisbury's surety?"
"That will I," said De Coucy, stepping forward. "In life and lands, though I have but little of the last."
"Thank thee, old friend," said the earl, grasping his hand. "We fought in different parts of the field, or we would have tried some of our old blows; but 'tis well as it is, though 'twas a bishop, they tell me, knocked me on the head. I saw him not, in faith, or I would have split his mitre for his pains."
Prisoner after prisoner was now brought before the king, to most of whom he spoke in a tone to allay their fears. On Ferrand of Flanders, however, he bent his brows, strongly moved with indignation, when he remembered the presumptuous vaunting of that vain light prince, who had boasted that, within a month, he would ride triumphant into Paris.
"Now, rebellious vassal," said the monarch with severe dignity of aspect, "what fate does thy treason deserve? Snake, thou hast stung us for fostering thee in our bosom, and the pleasures of Paris, shown to thee in the hospitality of our court, have made thee covet the heritage of thy lord. As thou hast boasted, so shall it befall thee; and thou shalt ride in triumph into our capital; but, by heaven's queen! it shall not be to sport with jugglers and courtesans!"
Ferrand turned deadly pale, in his already excited fears, misconstruing the king's words. "I hope, my lord," said he, "that you will think well before you strike at my life. Remember, I am but your vassal for these lands of Flanders, in right of my wife--that I am the son of an independent monarch, and my life may not----"
"Thy life!" cried Philip, his lip curling with scorn,--"Fear not for thy pitiful life! Get thee gone! I butcher not my prisoners; but, by the Lord! I will take good care that ye rebel not again! Now, Renault of Boulogne," he continued, turning to the gigantic count of Boulogne, who, of all the confederates, had fought the longest and most desperately, entertaining no hope of life if taken, both from being one of the chief instigators of the confederacy, and from many an old score of rebellion not yet wiped off between himself and the king. He appeared before the monarch, however, with a frank smile upon his jovial countenance, as if prepared to endure with good humour the worst that could befall; and seeing that, as a kind of trophy, one of the pages bore in his enormous casque, on the crest of which he had worn two of the broad blades of whalebone, near six feet high, he turned laughing to those around, while the king spoke to Ferrand of Flanders--"Good faith," said he, "I thought myself a leviathan, but they have managed to catch me notwithstanding."
"Now, Renault of Boulogne," said the king sternly--"how often have I pardoned thee--canst thou tell?"
"Faith, my lord!" replied the count, "I never was good at reckoning; but this I do know, that you have granted me my life oftener than I either deserved or expected, though I cannot calculate justly how often."
"When you do calculate, then," said Philip, "add another time to the list; but, remember, by the bones of all the saints! it is the last!"