“You are wrong. They must be informed as speedily as possible,” replied the knight. As he was in the act of mounting his steed, which a squire had brought, a page rushed up and summoned him to the Duchess.
The knight followed the messenger to an upper room, where one of the maids promptly met him, and conducted him to a large apartment, against the rear wall of which the Duchess’s bed stood under a gilded canopy. The curtains were partly drawn back, and in the half darkness he saw the face of the Duchess among the silken pillows. Höel knelt and awaited her commands. She motioned him to rise, and said, “Show him the child, Joconde.”
The nurse approached, and lifted the veil from the little white bundle she was carrying, so that he might see the child. As he stooped to look at him, the little one opened its eyes and uttered a faint cry. The plaintive tone pierced Höel’s heart. He laid his hand upon the child’s head and said with deep emotion, “Accept my homage, son of my brave lord and friend.”
The Duchess bade Joconde retire, and then said, “May all, worthy knight, like yourself, pay homage to Duke Arthur of Brittany, for it was this name my husband selected for his first son.” She gave way to her emotions for a moment, and then said with firm voice:
“Take this signet ring of my husband’s, show it to the members of the Council at Rennes,[5] and bid them execute my commands. The citizens of every city shall assemble; and to them and to every country it shall be proclaimed that Duchess Constance of Brittany will maintain the ducal authority, and that during the minority of her son she will rule all the possessions of the deceased Duke Geoffrey Plantagenet, with the help of God and the nobles of Brittany. Send a messenger also to the King of England and inform him of the death of his son and the birth of a grandson. But, above all, send a prudent man with a letter to King Philip Augustus at Paris.[6] Assure the King of our feudal loyalty as a vassal of France, and tell him we shall render him our usual service in time of peace or war, and pay the customary tribute. In consideration of this he is to assist us in case of necessity against any enemy of our country or of the young Duke. Have the letter drawn up in temperate and friendly tone.”
“It shall be done, my lady,” replied Höel; “and what are your wishes as to the funeral of the Duke?”
“He shall be buried in the Cathedral at Rennes, and the chaplain must see that everything necessary is done. Now go, and God preserve you. May you quickly return for our protection.” She leaned back, wearied. The curtains were closed, and the knight left the apartment with a feeling of relief. When he reached the courtyard he summoned his people and the chaplain, who inquired what commissions the Duchess had given him. He answered curtly, “Chaplain, he who says women are weak and timid has never known the Duchess Constance.”
“But, tell me—”
“Only this,” said Höel, with his hand upon his horse’s bridle, “France is the watchword. She said scarcely a word about England.”