He paused, for his breath failed him.
“Speak,” answered Johan, “for I am ready to take any charge that you may give me—”
“My son Edward will be King of England,” whispered the Prince; “and he is a young child. Stand you by him and by his mother in their difficulties.”
“I will,” said the Duke gravely.
“I entreat this of you now,” added Edward, “for it well may be that I shall never see you again. I think,” and the bitterness of his failure echoed in his voice, “that I shall die before we regain Acquitaine.”
“Be of better cheer, brother,” answered the Duke, “for I have great hopes that you will recover in England.”
“Nay, I am past mending,” said the Prince; “and were it not that I have some desire to draw my last breath in English air, I would die here and leave my bones where I have left my knighthood and my chivalry.”
“You scarcely think of me,” said Jehanne of Kent, and her eyes reminded him how much he had loved her once; lately he had seemed to fall away from the close confines of her affection.
He returned her gaze sadly.