"I noticed this and rallied him on his whistling talk. But he said nought of the blow."
"It was so. And he pretends that Pabo was smitten by lightning for having thus struck him. But, Sire, I have seen this priest since the alleged miracle; his hair is unsinged. He has a hearty appetite, and good teeth—not one struck out by lightning—wherewith to consume his food. The smell of fire has not passed upon him."
The King broke into a roar of laughter.
"That is Bernard! Bernard to the life! A rogue in business. He cheated my Queen, and now tries to cheat me with a lie, and sets up as the favored of Heaven. You are sure of it?"
"Quite sure; Bernard endeavored to huddle the man out of the way lest the lie should be found out."
"Famous!" The King had recovered his good-humor. "And to see the solemnity and conviction of the Holy Father when he heard the story." Again he exploded into laughter. "I must go tell the Queen. It is fun, it will put her in a passion."
"And, Sire! about my people—my poor Welsh people?"
"I will see to it. I will consider—what did I hear? You have brought your young child with you?"
"Yes, Sire, he is without."
"Let me see him—has he your beauty or Gerald's ugliness?"