“Every stroke.  I was leaning on the railing just above you.”

“And never spoke to me!”

“Because I feared it might be distracting and do you harm.  When all was over I hurried hither . . . to wait . . . though I feared Sir John might come with you,” and she blushed bewitchingly.

“His heart is young, if his hair be grey,” said De Lacy.  “He bade me go alone and he would follow presently.  And ere he comes, dear, tell me something of your captivity.”

“I will try to sketch it briefly, but if I seem to wander, bear in mind that to me it is years—­long years—­since that fateful evening by the Hermit’s Cell.”  She paused a bit, and then went on:  “The attack upon us was so sharply sudden that Sir John had no chance to defend—­the villains seemed to rise from the very turf on every side.  Almost instantly he was stricken, and as his horse bolted into the forest, a cloak was flung over my head and wound round about my arms, so that I was helpless.  Then at a sharp trot, that grew quickly into a canter, we set out.  After a while, how long I had no notion, we halted until the leader—­he whom I have come to know as Simon Gorges—­had freed me from the cloak, apologizing very humbly for being obliged to use it.

“It would likely have been more maidenly had I been tearful and trembling; but, to my shame then, must I admit that I was neither—­only curious to know who had been so desperate as to commit an act that would bring the whole of England down upon him.  Had I but guessed the long weeks which were to pass and the sore trials they were to bear, there would have been weeping without stint that night as, indeed, there was later; when it began to seem that you and all else on earth had forsaken me.”

“Nay, Beatrix; surely there was never such doubt of me?” De Lacy asked.

“Well; not doubt, exactly—­only a growing fear that, having searched for me and vainly, you had given me up for dead.”

“Yet all the while, methinks your heart told you that there was one, at least, who sought you still,” he said, raising her face so he could look into her eyes.

“I fear me, Aymer, you are still given to occasional conceit. . .  No, sir—­not another kiss until I have finished—­and not then, unless you are good and humble. . .  When we arrived before this castle the bridge was down and all things ready for our coming.  The place was strange to me, and in the faint glimmer of the torches and the uncertain moonlight I could discern no escutcheon above the gateway and no banner on the tower.  Nor did I have much time for observing, for they hurried me out of saddle and through the great hall and up to these rooms.  Directly, there came to me an old woman who proffered herself as maid.

“‘Maid!’ I exclaimed.  ‘Maid for one with no gown but a riding habit!’

“She opened the closet door and showed me apparel in plenty; and when I said I would wear no other woman’s clothes, she told me they were made for me and had been waiting for a week.