The Prince of Darkness by Jean Plaidy Page A

my repentance over-sudden. Let me come gradually back to the good life. If I attend the High Mass, that will do for a start. It will show people that I am making a beginning.’
    The Bishop said: ‘God will know exactly what is in your heart.’
    ‘Assuredly,’ answered John with his eyes downcast.
    There was no point in further persuasion, the Bishop told himself. Time would show what attitudes John would take and the people would accept or reject him accordingly.
    When the Bishop had gone John recalled his friends. He gave them an account of what had happened, mimicking the Bishop.
    ‘He thinks he is to govern me. We are going to have some fun with Master Bishop, my friends.’
    They applauded wildly; it would have been unwise not to do so.
    They were with him at the High Mass. John liked them to be there because he felt over-bold when it was necessary to amuse them with his daring.
    There was one point which shocked Hugh profoundly, when during the offertory John approached jingling some gold coins in his hand and did not put these into the dish which was there to receive them but stood for a while looking down at them.
    Hugh said sharply, ‘Why do you stand there staring at the coins?’
    John looked at him slyly. ‘I was thinking that a little while ago I would never have put them into your hands. They would be in my pocket. I suppose now I must give them to you.’
    Hugh was scarlet with indignation.
    ‘Put them in the basin and go,’ he said shortly.
    John hesitated for a moment and then did as he was bid, putting the coins in one by one as though with the greatest reluctance.
    The Bishop was angry and deeply disturbed that a future monarch could behave so in God’s holy house! It did not augur well for the future, and he was indignant as he went to his pulpit and prepared to deliver his sermon. John was seated immediately below and with him were a few of his dissolute friends.
    Was is possible, wondered Hugh, to make this young man understand that unless he behaved like a king he could never be a successful one? He would do his duty and try to sow a few ideas which might bear fruit.
    He had prepared a sermon which he would preach before John and he had meant its bearing to be on the duty of rulers to their people. He enlarged on the subject, stressing the disaster that could come through careless and wanton behaviour. A king must be high-minded and must put the good of his country before his own pleasures. He could not stress this enough.
    He was aware of the murmurings and nudgings that were going on in that pew but ignored them and the more they persisted the more he had to say about the duties of a king to his subjects.
    ‘A king must never forget that he serves his people under God …’
    There was a giggle from John’s pew and, when one of the young men quietly slipped out, Hugh was astonished to find that he was making his way round to the back of the pulpit.
    ‘My lord Bishop,’ said the young man in an audible whisper, ‘the King says, will you bring your sermon to an immediate end? He is weary of it and wants his dinner.’
    Hugh, colour heightened, continued to preach while the young man went back to his seat.
    Oh God, thought Hugh, what will become of us!
    The service over, Hugh left the church. He would take his leave tomorrow. There was no point in staying with the King. He would go back to England and consult with the Archbishop of Canterbury and tell them that he had indeed been right when he had suggested Arthur would be a more suitable king.
    The next day the Bishop of Lincoln said farewell to John.
    John, his friends still round him, cried: ‘This is a sad leave-taking, Bishop. I shall always remember your sermon to me on my accession.’
    The young men tittered and John could scarcely contain his laughter.
    ‘Then,’ said the Bishop with dignity, ‘perhaps it has not been in vain.’
    The Bishop with his entourage rode off and John entered the castle, there to enjoy the venison