“No, sweet son, no. It cannot be, this day—or even to-morrow. This Fulk Ferrers has kept faith with us. Were we to break troth with him it would be giving him death.”
Richard’s eyes glittered as though a new thought had come to him. He pulled at his lower lip with finger and thumb.
“Two Kings cannot live in one kingdom.”
He gave a queer, sinister laugh.
“Yes, I will remember Master Fulk Ferrers. I shall be in his debt, mother. I will find my way of paying that debt.”
He returned to the hutch, perched himself and sat thinking, his eyes staring at the opposite wall. His mother drew a stool near to the door, and taking up a “Book of the Hours,” watched him, while pretending to read. She saw a secret, gloating smile steal over his face. He still pulled at his lower lip with his thumb and forefinger, and the smile on his face was not pleasant to behold.
“What is in thy heart, Richard?”
“Honours, madam, for my brother King. He shall not complain of me, neither shall his tongue be in danger of telling the truth. I shall so work with him that his lips shall be sealed.”
“Gratitude, even secret gratitude, becomes a King, Richard.”
“Mother, I am grateful; I shall not forget.”