He fumbled at the bars of the door and made ready to swing it open.
"With your favour, Sir James, we must make haste."
"I follow you."
They put their shoulders to the postern-door, and for a brief minute Hugh and Edith stood face to face, alone. His fingers were searching in the breast of his gambeson; her cheeks were pink and her eyes very bright.
"Here is your glove," he said. "Wilt have it back, Edith, or am I still your knight?"
"Art still my knight, Hugh," she answered steadily. "There is none other—nor ever will be. And for that I wronged you when first we met in the Audience Hall above, I cry your pardon. Hast been true to me as I have been true to you."
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. The postern-door creaked open behind them.
"Prithee, take the torch, lady," said Matteo. "Come, Hugh."
She stooped quickly and kissed Hugh fair on the lips. Then, before he could say anything, she pushed him through the postern and the stone-fronted door swung shut.