"I would say, Hugues de Dampierre, and the Sire de Beaujeu," replied Arthur, looking towards the end of the table where those two barons sat, "if I thought they would willingly come."
"By my life, they will!" replied Philip.--"What say you, Imbert de Beaujeu?--What say you, Hugues de Dampierre?"
"For my part," replied Hugues de Dampierre, "you well know, beau sire, that I am always ready to put my foot in the stirrup, in any honourable cause. I must, however, have twenty days to raise my vassals; but I pledge myself, on the twenty-first day from this, to be at the city of Tours, followed by sixty as good knights as ever couched a lance, all ready to uphold prince Arthur with hand and heart."
"Thanks, thanks! beau sire," replied Arthur, in an ecstasy of delight, "That will be aid, indeed!" Then, careful not to offend the barons of Poitou by seeming to place more confidence in the strength of others than in their efforts in his cause, he added, "If, even by the assistance of the noble barons of Poitou alone, I could not have conquered my feofs in France, such generous succour would render my success certain; and in truth, I think, that if the Sire de Beaujeu, and the Count de Nevers, who looks as if he loved me, will but hold me out a helping hand, I will undertake to win back my crown of England from my bad uncle's head."
"That will I,--that will I, boy!" said the blunt Count de Nevers. "Hervey de Donzy will lend you his hand willingly, and his sword in it to boot. Ay, and if I bring thee not an hundred good lances to Tours, at the end of twenty days, call me recreant an' you will. My say is said!"
"And I," said Imbert de Beaujeu, "will be there also, with as many men as I can muster, and as many friends as love me, from the other bank of the Loire. So, set thy mind at ease, fair prince, for we will win thee back the feofs of the Plantagenets, or many a war-horse shall run masterless, and many a casque be empty."
Arthur was expressing his glad thanks, for promises which plumed his young hope like an eagle; and Philip Augustus was dictating to a clerk a summons to De Coucy to render himself instantly to Paris, with what servants of arms he could collect, if he were willing to serve Arthur duke of Brittany in his righteous quarrel; when the seats which had remained vacant round the council-chamber were filled by the arrival of the bishops of Paris, the archbishop of Rheims, and several other bishops and mitred abbots, who had not assisted at the ceremony of Arthur's knighthood.
"You come late, holy fathers," said Philip, slightly turning round. "The ceremony is over, and the council nearly so;" and he proceeded with what he was dictating to the clerk.
The clergy replied not, but by a whisper among themselves; yet it was easy to judge, from their grave and wrinkled brows, and anxious eyes, that some matter of deep moment sat heavily on the mind of each. The moment after, however, the door of the council-chamber again opened, and two ecclesiastics entered, who, by the distinctive marks which characterise national features, might at once be pronounced Italians.
The clerk, who wrote from Philip's dictation, was kneeling at the table beside the monarch's chair, so that, speaking in a low voice, the king naturally bent his head over him, and consequently took no notice of the two strangers, till he was surprised into looking up, by hearing a deep loud voice begin to read, in Latin, all the most heavy denunciations of the church against his realm and person.