Lady Constance was to remain at the inn, a prisoner, until Sir Julian saw fit to release her.  With curious eyes she watched for Katherine, whom she conceived would be decked in irresistible finery.  She even pictured her beauty, clad in that soft brocade of peach and green that so became her figure and enhanced the richness of her youthful bloom.

“Ah! ah!” she cried under her breath, as she saw the maiden’s masque, and fairly bit her lips in rage at the clever ruse about to be played upon the King.  Back she flew from the window and pranced up and down her chamber in rage, her brain on fire.  She sought in its hot depths some way—­some way.  “It must be done.  The King must know.  It would be the convent wench’s ruin—­and what would his Majesty not do for one who should give him hint?” She was not kept under close guard.  She could go about the corridors as she chose.  Out she flew into one of these and saw near by a scullion furbishing a brass knob.

“Come, fool, hast thou a close mouth?” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Aye, too close for the comfort of my stomach.”

“Then here—­but first, bring me from anywhere thou canst a gentleman’s suit that will cover me in plenty—­not too scant, remember, and bring a horse from where thou likest to the door below.  Haste thee, and thou shalt have this.”  She jingled a well-filled purse in his face.  Off he ran in hot haste, soon returning with the desired outfit; no doubt looted from some gentleman’s closet near by.  Quickly she donned it; but here and there were slight alterations to be made, and her fingers were all a-tremble, slackening speed to a meagre haste.  She donned a red-hued periwig and cockle hat, then strutted back and forth, proud of her fine appearance, as, indeed, she looked a roguish fop of no mean parts.  She flung out into the passage and asked the lad if the horse was ready.

“Aye, Sir!” he said, impudently.  She flung him a bag of gold with a show of masculine strength.  Out it flew through the open window, down to the pavement, frightening the steed from his groom, who first stopped to pluck the bag before giving chase to the wily horse.  Down came the scullion, followed close by the gay young fop, who waited impatiently outside the door.  The guard looked on indifferently, his eyes fixed upon the groom, rather than the young man that paced restlessly up and down the courtyard.

At last Lady Constance dashed out upon the highway with a smile of cunning on her face, a devil’s flash from her eyes, a haughty curving on her lips, and her heart beating faster and faster, the nearer she drew to the King’s palace.  “One masque is as fair as another, and methinks the King’s eye will open wider at my boldness than at Mistress Penwick’s plain dissembling, should he require a fair show of our feigning.  He will love me for my daring and for bringing him the knowledge aforetime of the maid’s deception.  And when the wench smiles in triumph, he will bring her down upon her knees by one fair blow of tongue.  ’Twould be like his Majesty to deprive her of decent covering, if I can only make her designing plain to him.”  On she rode in high good humour with her adventure; for if this move was without laches or mischance, ’twould be a triumph indeed.  The maid would be ruined and her own fortunes made.