“He is stout of build and medium in height; his hair is red, his face broad, and he has a heavy nose, so broken by a sword hilt that it might, indeed, be termed flat,” Darby answered.

“How long has he been in your service?”

“For years, Sire—­at least a dozen.”

“Where was he on the day and evening of the abduction?”

“The day, in the evening of which I understand the Countess disappeared,” Darby began with easy confidence, “I rode from my castle of Roxford in early morning, en route for Pontefract and the Court.  This under officer of mine, Simon Gorges by name, who has, it seems, been taken for the villain called Flat-Nose, was left at the castle, where he remained in command until my return some seven days thereafter.  I myself lodged at the Abbey of Kirkstall, that night, and was making my adieu to the Abbot, the next morning, when this . . . this . . .  Knight”—­indicating De Lacy by a motion of his thumb—­“arrived with news of the outrage.  Then I hastened to Pontefract and joined in the search, as Your Majesty knows.”

“You have been most detailed as to your own movements at that time, but very meagre as to those of your servant,” the King remarked dryly.  “You left him, you say, at your castle on the morning of the abduction, and found him there, a week later, on your return.  Bethink you that is any proof he remained there in your absence?”

“It is very true there is a wide break in my own observation,” Darby answered with instant frankness; “yet I know absolutely that he was not beyond my own domain during my absence.  It is some queer resemblance betwixt him and this Flat-Nose.  And by my faith, Sire, broken noses and red hair are not such a rarity that Simon Gorges should be the only one to possess them.”

“That may be; but they are enough, in this instance, to put that same Simon Gorges on suspicion, and quite to justify Sir Aymer de Lacy in arresting you and carrying you hither; and particularly when you scorned to offer him any explanation.  For you must know, my lord, he wears the Ring of the Boar, and what he does is in my name.”

“Perchance, I was hasty, Sire, but I did not know of the Ring; it was never shown me.  And poor indeed were the manhood that would not resent the manner of my seizure—­the gyves and arrogant address of your Body-Knight.”

“Will Your Majesty ask Lord Darby,” Sir Aymer exclaimed, “why this flat-nosed Simon Gorges, as quickly as he saw me, sprang from the window crying:  ‘De Lacy!  De Lacy!’ and fled into the darkness?  If he be innocent, wherefore such action?”

“You hear, my lord?” said Richard.  “Can you explain?”

“That I cannot,” Darby replied.  “Perchance, Gorges has had trouble some time with Sir Aymer de Lacy or his household; though, of course, of that I know nothing.  But I do know, Sire, that not I nor mine, with my knowledge, had aught to do with the outrage upon De Bury and the Countess.  It would be most humiliating to have been under even an instant’s suspicion of such a crime, but to be arrested and arraigned before one’s King. . .  Bah! it is deeper degradation than words can sound,” and he folded his arms and stared, vacantly and with drawn face, straight before him.