“There, there, my wife; thou dost break my heart at each sob.  Here, see here what I brought thee,” and he placed on her arm a circlet of rubies.  “There, hush thy tears.  I will not teach thee anything but how kind I may be—­there, sit thee down.  I will let thee wait until thou art accustomed to man’s caresses.”  Monmouth’s heavy drinking trended to strengthen his good humour, else he might have resented roundly the interruption of his love-making by the entrance of Lady Constance.  He held out his hand to her, saying,—­

“Come, my lady; see my poor dear.  The poor child is affrighted at my love-making.  Thou wouldst not be so frightened, Constance,—­eh?”

“I am not a child, your Highness, to fall to weeping if so honourable a gentleman as some should choose to kiss my hand.”  The Duke reached to the table and pressed another cup of wine to his lips, that were already stiffened by excess.

“Come, Sweet; give me one kiss—­” and he bent over her close.

“Nay, nay, I’ll not suffer thee.”  And Katherine drew from him with flashing eyes.

“Come, silly child; one, just one.”  She fled from his reach.  He sought to catch her but was stopped by Constance who whispered something hurriedly.  The Duke turned upon Janet and frowned, then broke into a mocking laugh, and with a sly wink at Constance, said,—­

“Thou art a trickster, good nurse; thou didst play upon me foully.  Good, good nurse!  Come, go quickly.  Thou shalt see no more love-making; I forbid thee; kiss thy nestling and go.  I will watch over her.  Come, my sweet, come!” His Grace took the maid in his strong arms, and though his legs threatened collapse, bore her toward the door.

Janet saw the look of devilish menace and triumph upon Lady Constance’ face and—­beyond—­what did she see behind the curtain of the window that looked upon the garden?  Surely ’twas something more than the evening breeze that stirred those hangings.  ’Twas a familiar face that looked from behind the folds; aye, of a truth, ’twas Sir Julian Pomphrey’s.  When Monmouth, half carrying Katherine, reached the door and stood some little way beyond its deep embrazure, he turned to Janet again, saying,—­

“Go, good nurse.  I wait for thine exit.  Come, begone!”

“I beg your Grace to forgive the lie I told and give pledge of thy forgiveness by taking this.”  She handed him a brimming cup.

“Then, good nurse, I forgive thee.  Here is to the maid thou dost let go and to the woman I shall bring back.”  He threw back his head and lifted the cup.  As it touched his lips a handkerchief fell about his eyes and a strong hand covered his mouth and the Duke lay helpless upon the floor.

Janet carried the half-fainting maid from the room.  As she did so, Sir Julian and Lord Cedric, who had also come through the window, carried the young Duke to another chamber; binding him fast; keeping his eyes well blindfolded and their own tongues still.  Constance was left standing in the middle of the floor in dumb surprise and chagrin.  In a moment Lord Cedric returned, and his voice rang steel as he faced her, nor was there shadow of pity as he saw her white face grow ghastly in fear.