"And such a knight, lady! Fair spoken, and of good courage. I heard it in the ring of his voice, as he hasted to ask after her welfare, how much he loveth her."
"Thou knewest that he was the Lady Aliva's knight, then, Beatrice?"
"Ever since the affair of the helmet, lady. My Lady Aliva could not contain herself then, when she knew him wounded, and told me all. She is as true to him as the pole-star to the north, or as I to--"
"I know it, Beatrice, and it would be a deadly sin, and one I will stand out against as long as I draw breath, were she to be forced to wed William. The lying wretch! he will stick at naught to gain his end. To tell Aliva Sir Ralph was dead! Alas, alas! But peace, Beatrice; here she comes. I will tell her the news."
Inwardly chafing at being deprived of the pleasure of imparting such delightful information, Beatrice retreated behind the chair of her mistress as Aliva entered.
The weary weeks the latter had spent as a prisoner since that fatal morning when she was hurried into the castle, and the intense mental anguish she had endured since the helmet of the wounded knight had been handed to her on the ramparts that same evening, had left their traces on Aliva's pale cheek. The listless attitude in which she sank upon a stone seat, and gazed with mournful eyes out into the fast-falling summer twilight, contrasted strangely with the natural vigour and vivacity of the brave horsewoman who had led William de Breauté such a chase over the Ouse marshes. Something akin to despair had crushed her soul since Sir Fulke had brought her the news of Sir Ralph's death.
"Daughter," began Lady Margaret, tenderly drawing the fair head which leaned so wearily upon the thin hand down upon her knee, "I have somewhat to say to thee. This suit of my husband's brother--methinks Sir Fulke knew, as well as thou and I, how vain it was to urge it while thy true knight yet lived--"
"It were ever vain, lady, were Ralph alive or dead. Death would be sweeter to me than marriage with William de Breauté," replied Aliva mournfully.
"He hath used treachery once to gain his end; what if he hath also used deceit of words?" Lady Margaret went on. "Other De Beauchamps than thy knight bear the crest thou sawest on the casque."
"Ah, lady," moaned Aliva, "beguile me not with vain hopes. Did not Beatrice here see him fall?"