They had not been so very long in the garden when Igraine's quick ear caught the sharp and rhythmic smite of hoofs on the stony track across the meadows. The sound disquieted her, for she was in the mood for dreads and suspicions. Listening to make sure that the sound approached, she appealed to Eudol and asked him to look and see who rode for the manor. There was a little wicket-gate some way down the laurel hedge carefully screened by shrubs. Eudol went to it, and scanned the meadows under his hand. He came back somewhat flustered to Igraine, and told her that a knight in gilded armour mounted on a white horse was riding up the track to the house. Igraine started up on her bed with her eyes very big and suspicious. "It is Gorlois," she said. "Heavens, my dear!" "You have not been lying to me?" "On my soul--no." Igraine touched her forehead with her hand, and looked askance at the sun. "Master Eudol, if you would serve me, go and fool the man--send him away." "My dear child--" "He must not see the servants or have speech with them." "But--" "I command you, go and speak to him; he is very near." Eudol looked at her with his lower lip a-droop. His grey-green eyes met Igraine's, gleamed, and faltered. He bent over the bed. "I will do my best. Give me a kiss, my dear. By Augustus, I will get rid of Gorlois if I can." He went out quickly by the wicket-gate, and closing it after him, waited for the knight to approach. There were no slaves about, and Eudol remembered with confidence that his men were in the corn fields, well away to the north. Gorlois came up with the splendid arrogance that so suited him, his rich armour glowing above the white flanks of his horse, his spear balanced on his thigh. Eudol went forward some paces to meet him, as though to learn his business. Igraine, listening behind the laurel hedge, heard their words as plainly as though the two men were but three paces away. "Greeting, sir," said Eudol's thin voice. Then she heard Gorlois's clear sharp tenor questioning him. She heard him ask whether a grey nun had called for food, or whether Eudol had seen or heard of such a person. She heard the old man's meandering negative, and Gorlois's retort that a grey nun had been seen riding beside a merchant on a white mule. Igraine's heart seemed to race and thunder. Eudol, rising to the event, suggested that the merchant might be a certain fabulous person from Aquæ Sulis; a man of means, he said, who often came by Sarum to Winchester in the fur trade. He hinted that the knight might overtake them on the road, or discover them at Sarum that evening. Gorlois fell to the suggestion. Igraine heard him inquire further of Eudol, speak to his horse, and ride away with a ringing clatter. She sat on her couch behind her laurel rampart and laughed. Eudol came back to her, pleased as possible. "How was that done,--sweeting?" "Nobly," laughed Igraine. "The Virgin pardon me; what perjury for a pair of lips." VIII