The old Peer bent knee and made to kiss the royal hand.

“Not so, John,” said Richard, raising him; “let that go save where ceremony demand it.  Your honest grip makes faith enough for Gloucester.”

After some serious consultation Norfolk took his leave, and Richard, passing on to his apartments and to the window that overlooked the courtyard, watched him ride off to his own abode.  Then with serious face he turned away.

“Norfolk and Surrey are trustworthy,” he said half aloud, “but who else of the Peers? . . .  By St. Paul! it would seem well to finish Edward’s business of snuffing out the old Nobility.  Yet I have no Teuton and Tewkesbury to work an opportunity, nor are the Yorkists united behind me. . .  It is a hard problem; and the way through is far from clear. . .  Buckingham—­the Stanleys—­Northumberland—­all their friends—­I trust them not . . . yet must favor them with power that ere long may work my ruin. . .  It has become fashionable in England it would seem, since the Second Richard’s time, to crown a new King ere the old one died.  It was so with him of Bordeaux—­of Windsor—­and my own dear nephew—­and pardieu! it may be the same with me.  Yet, no!  By St. Paul, no!  If that time ever come, there shall be a change in the fashion:  when the new King feels his crown, Richard of Gloucester will be dead.”

XIII

AT ROYAL WINDSOR

But the following day brought a change of plans.  The King had held council with himself during the night; and in the morning there went forth the word that in late July he would make a royal progress through his realm, and in the ancient town of York be crowned a second time.  Of this purpose Richard had promptly informed the Queen at Westminster; and the same messenger who bore her answer bore also a letter from the Countess of Clare to Sir John de Bury, advising him that she would not go North, as had been intended, but would wait and attend Her Majesty; explaining that not only could she thus make the long journey with no trouble to him and with more comfort to herself, but also that she was moved by the express desire of the Queen, who was loath to lose her.

Sir John straightway sought the castle, and De Lacy had small trouble in persuading him to remain and ride back to Yorkshire with the King.  That evening Aymer informed His Majesty that, on account of the new orders, he would not relinquish for the present his duties as Knight of the Body, and Richard smiled comprehendingly, but made no comment.

Three days later the Court moved to Windsor.  On the morning after the arrival there, as De Lacy rounded the front of St. George’s Chapel, he came upon the Queen, attended only by the Countess of Clare.  He uncovered, and with a deep obeisance was passing on when the former addressed him.

“Sir Aymer,” she said, and he halted and bowed low again, “methought you had left us for distant Yorkshire.  We are glad the information was not sound.—­Are we not, Beatrix?” with a sly glance at her companion.