It was near evening on the twelfth day after leaving Windsor that the tall towers of Warwick Castle loomed in the distance, the giant "Caesar" rising high above its huge brothers, the "Gateway" and the "Grey," and casting its grim shadow far across the country-side. During much of this day's journey Richard had been very quiet, riding with his head sunk on his breast; and observing this, his attendants, save only the particular Knight of the Body on duty, gradually drew further behind so that their talk would not annoy him. At intervals he summoned one or more of them, but after a short time his interest waned, his abstraction returned, and like discreet courtiers, they quickly dropped again to the rear. As they neared the fortress he roused himself, and when the bombard on the wall roared out the royal salute he waved his suite to him. At the same time Sir William Catesby, who had gone on in advance from Worcester the previous day, came galloping to meet them with Sir James Gascoyne, the Constable of the Castle. Richard supped alone that evening; and then for a while he paced the floor in meditation, pausing finally at the open window. Presently he struck the bell. "Who waits?" he asked. "Sir Aymer de Lacy and Sir Ralph de Wilton," replied the page. "De Lacy," he said. . . "Come hither," as Aymer entered; "a crowded courtyard always entertains me. . . Sometimes much may be learned from it; and this is very active now. Have you ever seen one so bright and busy?" "But once before in England, Sire." "Where?" "At Pontefract! the night I first met the Duke of Gloucester." "Aye, that may be true--it was crowded in those days. . . Pardieu! it is scarce three months since then--and yet . . . Holy Paul, what, changes!" He half closed his eyes in retrospection. . . "It is marvellous what memory can show us in an instant," he said, and turning sharply from the casement struck the bell again. . . "Summon the Lord Steward," he ordered . . . then, to De Lacy, when the page had gone: "And do you attend to what is said and pay no regard to Stanley's glances of uneasiness. . . You understand?" De Lacy bowed. "I do, and with profound satisfaction." "Why satisfaction?" "That Your Majesty does not trust him." Richard smiled grimly. "Trust him or his brother William? Rather look for faith and honesty in the Fiend himself. Nathless, I may not slight them--yet awhile. It is watch and wait--now. And a trying task truly, for they are the shrewdest brained in the land." "Save the King of England," Aymer added. "Save none, as you some day may see." "God forbid!" De Lacy exclaimed earnestly. But Richard only shrugged his shoulders. "Nay, what boots it? As great Coeur-de-Lion said: 'From the Devil we Plantagenets all come, and to the Devil shall we all go.'" "Then Your Majesty will never be quit of the Stanleys." "It would seem so," with a short laugh; "yet it is the live Stanley that worries me now."