craftsman, who had worked no bounds, soul or body, to make
the King's tomb and chapel a triumph and a glory for all time; and
here, d'ye see, I was made knight, not for anything I'd slaved
over, or given my heart and guts to, but expressedly because I'd
saved him thirty pounds and a tongue-lashing from Catherine of
Castille - she that had asked for the ship. That thought shrivelled
me with insides while I was folding away my draft. On the heels
of it - maybe you'll see why - I began to grin to myself. I thought
of the earnest simplicity of the man - the King, I should say -
because I'd saved him the money; his smile as though he'd won
half France! I thought of my own silly pride and foolish expectations
that some day he'd honour me as a master craftsman. I
thought of the broken-tipped sword he'd found behind the
hangings; the dirt of the cold room, and his cold eye, wrapped up
in his own concerns, scarcely resting on me. Then I remembered
the solemn chapel roof and the bronzes about the stately tomb
he'd lie in, and - d'ye see? - the unreason of it all - the mad high
humour of it all - took hold on me till I sat me down on a dark
stair-head in a passage, and laughed till I could laugh no more.
What else could I have done?

'I never heard his feet behind me - he always walked like a cat -
but his arm slid round my neck, pulling me back where I sat, till
my head lay on his chest, and his left hand held the knife plumb
over my heart - Benedetto! Even so I laughed - the fit was beyond
my holding - laughed while he ground his teeth in my ear. He was
stark crazed for the time.

'"Laugh," he said. "Finish the laughter. I'll not cut ye short.
Tell me now" - he wrenched at my head - "why the King chose