'"Ha, Madame!" says Count John, shaking like a leafy tree, "what is this?" Madame Alois removed my handkerchief. The horror was still there.
'"He did me kindness," she said, looking wistfully at the empty face; "he tried to serve me this way and that way." She stroked it, then looked again at the Count. "But then you came, John; and you he loved above all. How have you served him, John, my bonny lad? Eh, Saviour!" She looked up on high—"Eh, Saviour, if the dead could speak!"
'No more than the dead could John speak; but King Richard answered her.
'"Madame," he said, "the dead hath spoken, and I have answered it. That is the kingly office, I think, to stand before God for the people. Let no other speak. All is said."
'"No, no, Richard," said Madame Alois, "all is not nearly said. So sure as I live in torment, you will rue it if you do not listen to me now."
'"Madame," replied the King, "I shall not listen. I require your silence. If I have it in me, I command it. I know what I have done."
'"You know nothing," said the lady, beginning to tremble. "You are a fool."
'"May be," said King Richard, with a little shrug, "but I am a king in Fontevrault."
'The Count of Mortain began to wag his head about and pluck at the morse of his cope. "Air, air!" he gasped; "I strangle! I suffocate!" They carried him out of church to his, lodging, and there bled him.
'"Once more, King Richard," said Madame, "will you hear the truth from me?"