HOW THEY MET AT FONTEVRAULT Communing with himself as he rode alone over the broomy downs, King Richard reined up shortly and sent back a messenger for Milo the Abbot; so Milo flogged his old mule.

Directly he was level with his master, that master spoke in a quiet voice, like one who is prepared for the worst: 'Milo, what should a man do who has slain his own father?
Is repentance possible for such a one ?' Milo looked up first at the blue sky, then about at the earth, all green and gold.

He wrinkled close his eyes and let the sun play upon his face.
The air was soft, the turf springy underfoot.

He found it good to be there.

'Sire,' he said, 'it is a hard matter; yet there have been worse griefs than that in the world.' 'Name one, my friend,' says the King, whose eyes were fixed on the edge of the hill.
Milo said, 'There was a Father, my lord King Richard, who slew His own Son that the world might be the better.