John grew red as fire.

'Why, what do you mean, Richard ?' he stammered.
And Richard, 'Are my words so encumbered?
Think them over, get them by heart.

So doing, be pleased to ride with me to Paris.' At this the colour left John's face.
'Ah! To Paris ?' He looked as if he saw death under a bush.
'That is where we must go,' said Richard, 'so soon as we have prayed for that poor blind worm on the ground, who now haply sees wherein he has offended.' 'Conrad of Montferrat, cousin of this dead, is there, Richard,' said the other with intention; but Richard laughed.
'In a very good hour we shall find him.

I have to give him news of his cousin Saint-Pol.

What is he there for ?' 'It is in the matter of the kingdom of Jerusalem.