He sought the presence chamber at the usual hour, but it was deserted; and after waiting a short while he was on the point of leaving when the arras suddenly parted and the Countess entered. "I am glad to see you," she said, giving him her hand, "even though you are a laggard and a thief." "Why laggard?" De Lacy asked. "Because you should be with the Duke and not here." "Granted," said he. "Did you call Lord Darby laggard, too?" "You will have to ask him; I do not now remember." "I passed him at the gate, and from his temper I might guess you called him even worse." "At least I know I did not dub him thief." Then she held out her hand. "The kerchief," she said peremptorily. De Lacy slowly drew forth the bit of lace. "Rather would I lose a quartering," he said very gently, "yet, in honor, I may not keep it against your will." "And honor," said she seriously, as she took the kerchief, "is dearer far than all our quarterings. . . What brings you back to Pontefract?" "You," said De Lacy, smilingly. "Of course! but what else?--be serious." "I am serious. But for you I would be riding fast and hard after the Duke. I stopped at Pontefract for two purposes; of which, one was to deliver to you a message from that gallant Knight, Sir John de Bury." "My uncle!" she exclaimed. "He is in Scotland." De Lacy shook his head. "He is now at Craigston Castle, whence I have just come, and bring you his loving greetings." "The dear old man! How is he?" "As strong as an oak, save for a slight wound." "Wounded! How--where?" she demanded, with sharp concern. "Only a sword thrust in the thigh, got in a skirmish with some brigands about this hour yesterday," said De Lacy; and told her the story of the fray in detail. At the end the Countess arose. "I must go now," she said. "The Duchess will need me; but first, tell me the other purpose that halted you here." "The other," replied De Lacy slowly, "has been accomplished." She looked at him questioningly. "How so, if it were on my account you tarried?" Aymer smiled. "That I shall leave for you to guess," he said. To his amazement the Countess did not reprove him, but blushed and looked away. He bent eagerly toward her. "My lady," he said, "in all the years I have worn spurs, I have yet to ask gage of woman. To-morrow I fare where there may be fightings enough, as you well know. Grant me, I pray, some token, and let my first sword stroke in England be as your Knight." "Did you strike no blow yesterday?" she asked. "None of which a soldier may be proud--it was but a lot of _canaille_." For a moment the Countess looked him steadily in the eyes--then answered in those tones of finality from which he knew there lay no appeal.