“It serves you right,” the King was saying as the Duke was announced. Philip was seated at a table covered with papers. By his side stood an old man in a cringing attitude, who cast a hasty glance at Arthur as he entered.
“Welcome, cousin,” said the King, with a smile. “You have come in time to be a partner in our business arrangement.”
He beckoned to the old man, who submissively bowed his head. His spare figure was clad in a dark cloak of heavy silk. A tall black velvet cap covered his head and his long gray locks hung down his shoulders. His attire proclaimed him a Jew, and when he began to speak his voice awakened memories in Arthur’s mind.
“Your Majesty,” said the Jew, “spare us this demand. Our coffers are still empty because of the treasures you took from us not long ago, when Your Grace allowed us to return to your kingdom.”
“You shall only lend to us this time,” said the King.
“Upon what security?” quickly asked the Jew.
“Upon this security,” said Arthur, turning toward him and displaying the ring he wore on his finger. “Would you like to see the note also?” he said with a smile. “Do you know how it reads?”
The Jew hesitated an instant, then turned the ring to the light and looked keenly at Arthur. Raising his head, he said with a certain nobility of expression, “I know you. You are the Duke of Brittany.”
“Say rather, the King of England,” added Philip. “Well, Arthur, let us close up this business with Abraham, which has already fruitlessly consumed an hour of our time. Listen, Abraham. We need thirty thousand gold gulden to equip our troops, and a like sum in six months to pay them.”
The King arose, and Abraham went to the door; but before leaving he turned to Arthur and said in a low tone, “If you will come to my poor abode this evening, most gracious Duke, you shall be satisfied.”