'Moreover, there is this, if it please you to hear it.

When the Count of Poictou repudiated (as he most villainously did) my sister, he himself gave her to Gurdun.

But I fear him, lest seeing her any other's he should take her again.' 'What is this, man ?' asked King Philip.
'Sire, he writes letters to my sister that he is a free man, and she keeps them by her and often reads them in secret.

So she was caught but lately by my lady aunt, reading one in bed.' The King's brow grew very black, for though he knew that Richard would never marry Madame, he did not choose (but resented) that any other should know it.

At this moment Montferrat came in, and stood by his kinsman.
'Ah, sire,' said he, in those bloodhound tones of his, 'give us leave to deal in this business with free hands.' 'What would you do in it, Marquess ?' asked the King fretfully.
'Kill him, by God,' said the Marquess; and young Saint-Pol added, 'Give us his life, O lord King.' King Philip thought.