"And yet that very evening, when by accident I touched your hand, you
turned your back upon me and ignored me for a day."
"And will do the same again," she answered calmly.
"And the next evening you talked with me for hours."
"And am ready to do the same to-night. You, too, may take your
farewell of the entire suite through me--unless, of course, you have
tired of my foolish vagaries."
"Methinks I am quite satisfied to be classed with Lord Darby in the
matter of farewells; and as for the vagaries, they may be tantalizing
but, believe me, they are far more winning."
She held up a cautioning finger.
"I prefer your arraignment to your compliments," she said. "Methinks I
told you once before of my dislike for flattery."
"That was to Sir Ralph de Wilton . . . the night you walked with him on
the wall."
"True, so it was," she laughed; "but you were there and heard it."
He casually picked up a skein of silk that had slipped to the floor,
but finding her eyes upon him gave it to her straightway.
"Why not walk now on the ramparts with Sir Ralph?" he asked very low
and earnestly.
For an instant she seemed to hesitate; then she looked at him and shook
her head.
"I may not," she said. "I have promised the evening to Sir Aymer de
Lacy . . . for two hours of farewells."
But the two hours were very brief, indeed; for almost immediately De
Vivonne and De Wilton arrived, and shortly thereafter came Sir Richard
Ratcliffe and Sir Robert Brackenbury, and the talk became general. And
presently Richard himself entered; and when he withdrew the Duchess
went with him and the gathering broke up; and De Lacy got no more than
a casual word of farewell from the Countess.
In the morning all was activity. The bailey resounded with the stamp
of hoofs, the neighing of horses, and the rattle of armor, as the three
hundred and more men-at-arms assembled before the keep, awaiting the
order to fall in. The under officers stood apart conversing, but
glancing, ever and anon, toward the main stairway in anticipation of
the coming of the Duke or one of his suite. Presently the dark face of
Ratcliffe appeared at the door; and after a quick glance about he waved
his hand. Instantly the blare of the trumpet lifted every man into
saddle; and in another moment, that which seemed but a confused mass
had disentangled itself and swung into a square of glittering steel,
over which the morning sunbeams rippled in waves of silver as the
horses moved in restlessness.
De Lacy was standing before the entrance, watching the soldiery, when a
page hurriedly summoned him to the Duke.
He found Gloucester in the lower hall, booted and spurred for the road,
and pacing slowly back and forth, his head upon his breast. He was
dressed entirely in black, and his heavy cloak, lined with fur, lay on
a near-by bancal. He carried his gauntlets in his right hand, and
every step or two would strike them sharply against the top of his high
boot. Catesby, Brackenbury and Ratcliffe were gathered a bit apart,
talking in low tones. They glanced up when De Lacy appeared, and as he
halted just within the doorway, waiting for the Duke to address him,
Brackenbury spoke:
"My lord, Sir Aymer de Lacy is here."
Richard wheeled abruptly. "Come hither," he said, and led the way
toward the window. "Do you know the country or people in the region of
Kirkstall Abbey?"
"No, my lord," said De Lacy. "I have never been north of Pontefract."
"Then you are the one for the purpose. A dozen men-at-arms have been
detailed for you; take them and proceed direct to Craigston Castle and
deliver to Sir John de Bury this letter. I ride to York to-day and
South to-morrow. If you hasten, you can rejoin me at Nottingham. Do
you understand?"
"Perfectly, my lord."
"Then away. Come, gentlemen!" and the Duke walked briskly to the
stairway.
As he came within view of those in the courtyard, there arose a mighty
shout that echoed from the walls and keep. Gloucester's calm face
relaxed in a slight smile and he waved his hand in response. Then
scarce touching his foot to the stirrup which Catesby held he leaped
into saddle. The trumpet rang out, and the horsemen, breaking from
square into column, filed out of the courtyard and across the outer
bailey.
Gloucester had tarried, meanwhile, to speak a final word to Sir Robert
Wallingford; and when he had finished, the last clatter of hoofs on the
drawbridge had ceased. As the Constable stepped back with a farewell
salute, Richard's quick eye discerned the face of the Duchess at an
upper window. Swinging his charger in a demi-volte, he doffed bonnet
and flung her a kiss with his finger tips.
"_Au revoir, amante_," he called.
She smiled sweetly upon him and answered his kiss; then stood watching
him as he rode rapidly away, followed by his attendant Knights, until
the dark arch of the distant gateway hid him from her sight.
A few moments later Sir Aymer de Lacy came riding across the courtyard
with his escort. He had changed his suit of velvet for one of steel;
for being ignorant both of the country into which he was about to
travel and of what manner of adventure might lie before him, he had
deemed it well to have something more than silken doublet between his
heart and a cloth-yard shaft. His visor was raised, and as he passed
the keep, he looked up at every window. All were deserted, however,
and he was about to turn away when, suddenly, a casement swung open and
the Countess of Clare appeared in the stone-framed opening.
"_Au revoir_," she cried, and waved her kerchief.
Then by some mischance the bit of lace slipped from her fingers and
floated slowly downward. She made a quick grasp for it, but it had
sunk beyond her reach. A puff of wind spread it wide and carried it
out toward De Lacy. He watched it as it dropped, bringing Selim almost
to a stand to keep beneath it, and at length it rested upon his
extended hand.
"I claim my favor, fair Countess," he called, and wound it round the
crest of his helmet--then loosened rein and dashed away.