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Chapter VII The Journey
 It was a beautiful summer morning, and the hills and valleys of Brittany were flooded with sunlight. All Nature seemed exultant, and all living things were sharing her transports. The beauty of the fields and green woods concealed alike all traces of the last winter’s storms and the ravages so often occasioned by men when they sow the earth with fire and blood.  
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As if still more to enhance the beauty of the scene, a cavalcade was seen approaching from the adjacent wooded heights. The riders followed the winding road, now in groups, now singly, and sometimes were entirely hidden from view. Clear, ringing voices, joyous laughter, and now and then deep manly voices mingled with the neighing of horses. The travellers were the Duchess of Brittany, her son, and attendants. The seneschal rode in advance with two heralds, followed by Constance in a riding-habit of green silk, mounted upon a beautiful palfrey. H?el rode by her side, his fiery bay taking the lead whenever the road narrowed, to make room for the Duchess’s horse. Then came Duke Arthur and Alan on prancing black steeds. Arthur sat jauntily yet securely in his saddle, his slight figure being a trifling burden for the noble animal, which seemed to take pride in carrying him. He looked boyish yet distinguished. His unusual beauty was a sufficient mark of his high birth even if his costume had not proclaimed it. He wore a cloak of brown silk embroidered with gold, and over it a short, dark satin mantle tipped with ermine. From his cap waved a heron plume, fastened with jewels. He was a figure of beauty as he rode through the charming world about him, engaged in earnest talk with Alan. Behind the youths followed the squires and troopers, next the Duchess’s ladies, and in the rear the servants with the sumpter horses. It was an imposing though not a warlike train.
 
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Their destination was Rouen, where King Richard had arrived, not, as Constance had hoped, to settle her affairs, but to consult with Philip Augustus about the Crusade.[10] It was all the more urgent, therefore, for the Duchess to seek an interview with him and ascertain his plans before he entered upon such a long and dangerous journey. The King had been notified of her visit and had arranged for her safe passage through Normandy, whose frontier she was now approaching. As they emerged from the woods H?el heard a cry and the sound of a struggle in a thicket close at hand, and ordered a halt. Before he began an investigation, the disturbers of the peace appeared. Two men were dragging another along, answering his appeals with blows and abusive epithets. The victim was an old man, and the sight aroused Arthur’s indignation. He rode up at once, and ordered the men to give an account of their conduct, and in the meantime to release the old man. The latter fell upon his knees and looked up to Arthur with tearful eyes. H?el and Alan came forward and heard the indignant protest of the two men. They declared they were bailiffs in the service of the King of France. “This man,” they said, pointing to the kneeling victim, “is a Jew. The last day of grace King Philip allowed the Jews has expired.”
 
“Is this true?” asked Arthur.
 
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The old man looked up and said: “Listen, most gracious Prince, for, although I know you not, I can see the reflection of the crown upon your brow. Yes, it is true. The great King Philip Augustus, although he has long allowed our race to live in his kingdom, has now set his face against us. He has said, ‘Take the staff and leave the country; any one of you found in France after the day which I set shall die.’ The King’s servants have hounded us. They have plundered our homes; they have driven off our poor and wretched people. I was on my way to Holland, where our people have freedom to live, but I was so overcome by grief and hunger that I had to stay in the city until to-day—and now they have caught me.”
 
“It looks bad for you, Jew,” said H?el, shrugging his shoulders.
 
The bailiffs were again about to seize their prisoner, but Arthur cried: “Stop! Let him go free. It is my wish that he shall accompany us.”
 
“We are the King’s servants,” demurred the bailiffs, “and must obey his orders.”
 
“I am in command here, not King Philip,” said Arthur boldly and proudly. “I am the Duke of Brittany. Take yourselves off, or my men shall bind you.”
 
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