Upon his arrival in Rennes, the ancient capital, Höel found the citizens greatly excited over the rumor of the Duke’s death. As his little band rode through the streets, the people came from their houses and workshops, and a great multitude gathered round the castle. They had hardly heard the news of his death before it was followed by joyful intelligence, which turned sorrow into rejoicing. Enthusiastic shouts of “Hail to the new-born Duke! Long live Arthur Plantagenet!” rang out on all sides.
The Council and leading ecclesiastics were assembled when Höel entered the hall. After exhibiting the ring and executing his commission, he described to them the occurrence of the fatal day, but made no reply to their eager questioning as to the future.
“What is to be done, Knight Mordant?” they asked. “Brittany will remain loyal to the Duke; but will King Henry of England protect us? Philip Augustus of France will certainly seek to extend his possessions.”
“Let us do our duty,” replied Höel. “We may accomplish great things if we remain united.”
After a short rest Höel departed, taking a different route to the hunting-castle, in order to visit Castle Mordant and see his wife and little son.
He found them very happy and without any knowledge of what had happened. In a few words he described the condition of the Duchess to his wife. “And now, Bertha,” he added, “prepare yourself and little Alan to ride with me. I shall not feel easy about the Duchess and the child until I know that you are with them.”
Bertha in surprise drew Alan to her side. “Would you take me to the Duchess without knowing whether I shall be welcome? The Lady Constance has not been accustomed to children for years, and may not like youthful mischief.”
“If not for her sake, Bertha, do it for the child’s sake. Suppose a faithless nurse should place him under the control of the grandmother, Queen Eleanor of England, and he should meet with the same fate as her child, the little girl. What happened to her, do you ask? They say she was put in a convent. If Geoffrey’s son were to be placed in a monastery, I believe his father would not rest in his grave.”
“I will go,” assented Bertha. “Let the child be intrusted to me, and I will care for it as if it were my own. His lot, in any event, will be hard enough, for rulers care little for the rights of minors.”
“Oh, that Geoffrey had only been on good terms with his father!” exclaimed Höel. “His participation in the rebellion into which his mother and brothers urged him estranged his father’s heart.”