Early as was the hour, the goldsmith had escaped sloth and was busy at his ledgers in his little counting-house behind the parlour. Gorlois came in in great state, with the serving wench who announced him feasting her curiosity on his face with a sheepish giggle. Radamanth, fetched from his figures, bowed very low, and made the gentleman a most obsequious welcome. He was wondering what Gorlois's humour might be after the repulse of yesterday. To tell the truth, Radamanth felt somewhat ashamed of the trick he had served Igraine, and he was none too eager to meet his niece, seeing that she still seemed determined to hide her anger in her room. His doubts as to Gorlois's mood were set at rest by that gentleman's somewhat saturnine opening. "Radamanth!" "Your honour's servant." "I have come to make peace." "Your lordship's magnanimity is phenomenal." "Was I over hasty, goldsmith?" "A young man's way, my lord; no fault at all. Many's the time I had my face smacked as a youngster, and was none the worse in favour. Take no serious view, sir, but press her the harder. She'll give in--my faith, yes, being young and full of bone. You are troubled, my lord, with too much conscience." "Have you seen the woman since?" Radamanth raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Well, no," he said. "I am afraid my niece has rather a hot spirit--breeding, my lord--proud blood in her." "I know that part of her nobleness well enough." Radamanth refrained a moment from a sense of discretion. "My lord would see her?" "I'll not budge till I have done so." "You understand women?" Gorlois smiled a peculiar smile. "I have wit enough," he said. "I have my plan." "If it please you, sir, to go into the garden, I will endeavour to send her to you." "No more locking of doors, goldsmith." "Sir, I contemn my late indiscretion in your service." Gorlois passed out by a long passage into the gardens, with its green leaves shelving to the river, while Radamanth, half a coward at heart, went towards the stair that led to Igraine's chamber. Halfway up he met the girl Lilith coming down, very white and frightened looking, as though she dreaded her father's face. Radamanth kissed her, and asked for Igraine. Then her distraught look dawned on him in the twilight of the stairway, and made him suddenly suspicious. "Is Igraine awake?" Lilith hid her face in his sleeve. "Speak, girl, what's amiss?" "The room is empty." "What!" "Igraine has left us," said the girl with a stifled whimper. Radamanth, sage and solemn soul, lapsed into the sin of blasphemy. "When did you learn this, girl?" "Father--" "Quick now, don't lie." He shook her by the shoulder. "Father, be gentle with me." "Quick, hussy." "I can't, I can't." Radamanth took her firmly by the wrist and brought her with no very considerate care into the parlour. "Now," he said, thrusting her into a chair, "you atom of ingratitude, tell me what you know."