“‘Can it be that Lord Darby is suspected of my abduction?’ I cried.  And the hope that had almost died came back to life with a bound.

“‘Will you promise never to betray me to him?’

“‘I promise,’ I answered, all a tremble.

“So he detailed how, as Flat-Nose, he had been sought over all England; how at Sheffield, you, Aymer, had come upon him and Lord Darby together, and had carried his master to the King at Lincoln; how he, himself, escaping, had galloped back and hurried me to Kirkstall, assuming that Roxford would be visited by Richard’s order; how Darby had bested you with the King; and how Buckingham’s rebellion had sent you and Darby with the army to the South.

“’For the time Roxford will be in no danger of a searching party, so you are being returned there,’ he ended.  ’But if I know aught of Sir Aymer de Lacy, my lord has not yet won his bride.’

“’Lord Darby told me that the King had promised him my hand—­and that Sir Aymer de Lacy had gone to France.’  I said.

“He looked at me with a smile.

“‘I never contradict my master,’ he replied; but there was vast encouragement for me in his tones.

“And I slept that night as I had not for weeks; nor troubled that I lay once more at Roxford Castle.  For after my heavy gloom and dark despair, even the smallest hope was mountain size and promised sure release.  And so I waited; confident and strong.  Last evening near sundown the Abbot Aldam came; and as I saw him, all bedraggled, cross the courtyard on foot and unattended, I felt that my deliverance was near.  No one of his rank and station would travel so, except his life were jeopardized, and I cried out in joy at his undoing.  Then I sent for Gorges and learned the Abbot’s tale—­that he had escaped by the passage used for me, and that you were even then at Kirkstall.

“‘To-morrow’s sun will see Sir Aymer before the barbican, my lady,’ he said.  ’And though we shall hold the castle to the final stroke, yet it will be a losing fight; for we are few in number, and when one falls there will not be another to step into his place.  And so will it be that you have seen the last of Simon Gorges, whose greatest shame is to have been your jailer.’

“He bowed awkwardly and was going when I stopped him.

“’Your lord and the Abbot of Kirkstall can learn courtesy and chivalry from you,’ I said.  ’But what profit can your death be to Lord Darby?  When I am found here, his end is sure.  So when the last hope is gone—­the castle lost—­promise me that if quarter be offered, you will not let it pass; take your life and you shall have service under me.’

“He was embarrassed by my praise and earnestness.  ’Your ladyship is gracious; yet must I think upon the matter,’ he stammered; and hurried out as though afraid I might persuade him more.

“Therefore, dear, as on the stairway I heard him accept mercy on my word, you will grant it to him?”