“Not so, Sir John,” he insisted.  “Do you remain quiet; I know the way to the courtyard.”

“It grieves me sore that you cannot stay with me longer,” said De Bury, allowing himself to be persuaded.  “Yet I hope that we shall soon meet again.  Craigston Castle is ever ready to receive you.”

“And it shall have the chance, I assure you, when I am again in these parts—­though our next meeting is likely to be in London; His Grace will scarce soon return to the North.”

“Mayhap,” replied Sir John; “but for the present, my wound and my duties keep me here.  And, to speak truly, I am not unwilling; when you have reached my age, Sir Aymer, you will care little for the empty splendor of the Court—­and that reminds me:  you may meet there my niece, the Countess of Clare, and if you do—­verily, you have met her,” as De Lacy smiled, “and have been stricken like the rest.  Beware, my son, your corselet is no protection against the shafts of a woman’s eyes.”

“In truth, I know it,” De Lacy laughed.  “I have met the Countess and . . . it is needless to say more.  Yet it was at Pontefract and not at Windsor that I saw her.  She is with the Duchess of Gloucester.”

“In sooth! . . .  And you are with the Duke of Gloucester,” said De Bury, with a shrewd smile.  “It is either fortune most rare or fate most drear.  By St. Luke!  I believe the debt has shifted and that you should thank me for having had the opportunity to save her uncle’s life.  Nay, I did but jest,” he added hastily.  “You have seen many a face, doubtless, in sunny France fairer far than hers; yet is she very dear to me and winning to my old eyes.  Should you see her as you pass Pontefract—­if you return that way—­say to her that I am here, and that a short visit from her would be very welcome.”

“It may be that the Duchess has left the castle,” replied Aymer, “but your message shall reach the Countess.”

“Best deliver it in person,” said Sir John, kindly.

“Trust me for that,” De Lacy answered—­“and now farewell.”

“A most gallant youth,” said De Bury, when Sir Aymer was gone, “and of the right fighting stock; yet, if I mistake not, that sweet niece of mine is likely to make trouble for him.”

The shorter route to London was by Sheffield, but De Lacy chose to go by way of Pontefract.  It would, of course, bring him upon the main highway between York and London further North than by the Sheffield road; yet he took the chance of the Duke being delayed an extra day at York, in which event he would be able to await him at Doncaster, and join him at that place instead of at Nottingham.