"Why, for that matter--" Thoroughgood began, and then suddenly broke off. "Here comes my lady," he said, turning and standing in an attitude of respectful attention. Halfman had known of her coming before his companion spoke. The Lady Brilliana had come out on to the gallery from the door near the head of the stairway, and Halfman was conscious of her presence before he lifted his eyes and looked at her. She was not habited now, as on the day when he first beheld her, in her riding-robe of green, but in a simple house-gown chosen for the ease and freedom it allowed to a great lady who had suddenly found that she had much to do. The color of the stuff, a crimson, as being a royal, loyal color, well became her fine skin and her dark curls and her bright, imperious eyes. She was followed by her serving-woman, Tiffany, a merry girl that Thoroughgood adored, and one that would in days gone over have been likely to tickle the easy whimsies of Halfman. Now he had no eyes, no thoughts, save for her mistress, the lass unparalleled. Brilliana was speaking to Tiffany even as she entered the gallery. "Strip more lint, Tiffany," she ordered; "and bid Andrew be brisk with the charcoal." Her voice was as buoyant as the song of a free bird, and her step on the stair as light as if there were no such thing in the world as a leaguer. Tiffany crossed the gallery and disappeared through the opposite door. Brilliana, as she descended the stair, diverted her speech to Thoroughgood. "John Thoroughgood, I saw from the lattice our envoys bringing the Parliament man down the elm walk. To them at once. They must not unhood their hawk till he come to our presence." VII MISTRESS AND MAN When Thoroughgood had left the hall and Brilliana came to the floor, Halfman questioned her, very respectfully, but still with the air of one who has earned the friendly right to put questions. "Why do you see this black-jack?" he asked. Brilliana smiled at him as radiantly as if the holding of a house against armed enemies was the properest, pleasantest business imaginable. "With the littlest good-will in the world, I promise you," she answered. "But, you know, he so plagued for the parley that it was easier to try him than deny him. Besides, good friend and captain, I learn from what I read in Master Froissart's Chronicles that it were neither customary nor courteous to deny conference to a supplicating enemy." Halfman adored her for her courage, for her calm assumption of success. "How if he but come to spy out our strategies?" he asked. "The leanness of our larder? Our empty bandoliers?" Brilliana beamed back at him with her bewildering confidence.