"He died suddenly."

Richard wept long and bitterly, and when, with faltering tongue, he
asked tidings of his betrothed, his face was covered; he saw not the
guilty flush upon his brother's brow, for that he had spread a lying
report of the exile's death.

"Would Bertha still brave the king's displeasure? Was she yet true to
the unfortunate?"

"Bertha is a very woman. She hath forgotten the absent lover, and
chosen another, and a better man."

"Who, who hath supplanted me?" cried Richard fiercely, and springing
upon his feet.

"I tell thee not, lest thou wreak on him thy spite against thy
faithless fair."

"Know that Bertha's choice, though a traitor, is safe from me, even
were I, as I was, a man to meet a knight on equal terms."

His generous heart could not dream of fraternal treachery. And when
his rival saw this, and that he suspected him not as yet, he smiled to
himself, turned his face to the wall, and closed his eyes, if so be he
might cut off further question. Soon, falling into slumber, he
clenched his hands, and ground his teeth. The sleep of a traitor is
ever haunted by uneasy dreams, and dark shadows of coming doom fell
upon his spirit.