“Up stream or down?” he asked, as he handed her in and took place beside her.

“Up,” she said.

“Give way,” he ordered, and the eight oars that had been raised high in salute dropped as one, and they shot out into the stream.

The Lady Mary settled herself among the cushions, one arm thrown carelessly around the awning post.

“What nonsense it is,” she remarked presently.

De Lacy nodded.  “Doubtless—­but what?”

“This foolish dissimulation we all play at; . . . this assumed indifference which deceives no one.  Here are we, barging together on the Thames, when you would rather have the Countess . . . and I would rather have Ware.”

“But would they rather have us?”

“I am quite sure she would, and” . . . holding up a hand and slowly flashing the rings . . .  “I think he would, too.”

“If you happen to know which way they went,” De Lacy laughed, “we might follow and suggest an exchange.”

She sat up smartly.  “Come,” said she, “come; if you will venture it with the Countess, I will with Ware.”

He smiled.  “I thought you gave me a year wherein to prove my stupidity.”

“But would it be stupidity—­might it not be rare brilliancy—­a master stroke?” She flashed the rings again.  “Lord Darby would risk it were he in like case.”

“Nay, Darby is no fool.”

“True enough—­yet, neither is he afraid to brave the hazard; he is a hard fighter, in love as well as war.”

“I find no fault with him for that,” De Lacy answered, “so long as he fight fair.”

She gave him a quick glance of interrogation.

“Would you trust him to fight fair?” she asked.

“I usually trust every man of noble birth until experience prove him undeserving.”

“And you have had no experience with Darby?”

“No—­not yet.”

A sly smile crossed her lips and she was about to comment further, when Lord Ware’s barge suddenly swung out from behind a large vessel and met them.

“We are going to the Tower,” the Countess called.  “Will you not meet us there?”

The rowers backed water instantly, and the two boats drifted slowly past each other.

“We will join you very shortly,” Lady Mary answered—­then smiled at De Lacy.

The Earl of Ware looked curiously at the Countess.

“Now why this sudden notion for the Tower?” he asked, when the barges had drawn apart.  “But a moment since and you declined to stop there and preferred to stay afloat.”

“A moment since is far aback with a woman,” the Countess laughed—­“nor had I then seen the Lady Mary.”

“Nor the Knight with her,” said Ware sententiously.

She made no answer, save to look him in the face with calm composure.

“Who is this De Lacy,” the Earl asked with, a supercilious shrug; “one of the new nobility?”

A faint smile came into her eyes.