"The bridge buildeth fast," said Richard. "Ben of Coventry saith that by the morrow there will be a footway for twain abreast."
"Aye," replied the earl, "but not for horses nor for wains. Three days more for them."
The English army was now holding both sides of the stream, and the quarters of the king were in the old chateau of Poissy, not far from the bridge. Small was his care for state, however, and plain was his ordering, as of a soldier in the field. None hindered the earl marshal, and the king's officer of the house, that day, was Sir John of Chandos, good knight and true.
A greeting, a courteous reverence from Sir John to the earl, a word or so of command, and Richard was before the king in the audience hall of the chateau.
Cold, hard, and stern, like iron and like ice, was the face of his Majesty, as he opened and read the letter from Sir Geoffrey.
"Neville," said he to Richard, "hast thou spoken to any but the earl?"
"Not so, Sire," said Richard. "I did meet him at the river bank."
"Thou art young," said the king; "be prudent also, on thy head. Tell no man, high or low, that Philip hath already forty thousand men in Paris. If thou shalt betray that matter, thou diest."
"He useth not his tongue overmuch," said the earl, for the king's word pleased him not. "But he hath somewhat more to say."
"Let him say on," growled the king, for it was shown that he was sore wroth ere they came.