"Well. And if King Richard were dead, who standeth next heir?" "My Lord of March, no manner of doubt." "Good again. Then we thus stand: King Henry that reigneth hath no right; and the true King is shut up in Pomfret, or, granting he be dead, is then shut up in Windsor." "Well, Ned?" "Shall we--thou and I--free young March and his brother and sisters?" "Thou and I!" She was evidently doubtful. Edward took a stronger bolt from his quiver. "Custance, Dickon loves Anne Mortimer." That was a different matter. If Dickon wanted Anne Mortimer or anything else, in his sister's eyes, he must have it. To refuse to help Ned was one thing, but to refuse to help Dickon was quite another. "But how should we win in?" Edward drew a silver key from his pocket. "I gat this made of a smith, Custance, a year gone. 'Tis a key for my strong-room at Langley, the which was lost with other my baggage fording the Thames, and I took the mould of the lock in wax, and gave it unto the smith." He looked in her face, pausing a little between the sentences, to make sure that she understood him; and he saw by her eyes that she did. The very peril and uncertainty involved in such an adventure gave it a charm for her. "When, Ned?" "When I send word." "Very well. I will be ready." Before Edward could reply, Bertram Lyngern's horn sounded through the forest, saying distinctly to all who heard it, "Time to go home!" The three rose and walked towards the trysting-place, both Constance and Maude possessed of some ideas which had never presented themselves to them before. Bertram and Maude rode back as they had come. Maude was very silent, which was no wonder; and so, for ten minutes, was Bertram. Then he began:-- "How liked you this forest life, Mistress Maude?" "Well, Master Lyngern, and I thank you," said she absently. "And to-morrow is a week our Lady's Grace shall wed?" "Why, Master Lyngern, you know that as well as I." Maude wished he would have left her to her own thoughts, from which his questions were no diversion in any sense. "Mistress Maude, when will you be wed?" The diversion was effected. "I, Master Lyngern! I am not about to wed." "Are you well avised of that, Mistress Maude?" "Marry, Master Lyngern!" said Maude, feeling rather affronted. "If you will take mine avisement, you will be wed likewise," said Bertram gravely. "What mean you, Master Lyngern?" Maude was really hurt. She liked Bertram, and here he was making fun of her, without the least consideration for her feelings. "Marry, I mean that same," responded Bertram coolly. "Would it like you, Mistress Maude?"