He will buy my marriage from the King of France.

He is very sufficient.' 'Hath he substance?
Hath he lands?
Is he noble, then, Jehane ?' 'He hath knighthood, a Church fief--oh, enough!' 'God forgive me if I did amiss,' writes the abbot here; 'but seeing her in a melting mood, dewy, soft, and adorable, I kissed that beautiful person, and she left the Chapel of Saint Remy somewhat comforted.' Not only so, but the same day she left the Dark Tower with her brother Count Eustace, and rode towards Gisors and Saint-Pol-la-Marche.

Nothing she could do could be shamefully done, because of her silence, and the high head upon which she carried it; yet the Count of Saint-Pol, when he heard her story, sitting bulky in his chair (like a stalled red bull), did his best to put shame upon her, that so he might cover his own bitterness.

It was Eustace, a generous ardent youth in those days, who saved her from most of Eudo's wrath by drawing it upon himself.
The Count of Saint-Pol swore a great oath.
'By the teeth of God, Jehane,' he roared, 'I see how it is.

He hath made thee a piece of ruin, and now runs wasting elsewhere.' 'You shall never say that of my sister, my lord,' cries Eustace, very red in the face, 'nor yet of the greatest knight in the world.' 'Why, you egg,' says the Count, 'what have you to do in this?
Tell me the rights of it before you put me in the wrong.