"Remains yet the mightiest of them all," Lady Anna answered, surrendering another morsel of bread to the pet falcon.
"His name, Lady Anna?"
"Bull Bengough. Would you dare to break a lance with him in the approaching tournament ... for me, Sir Richard?"
"One more, or less, what matters it, Lady Anna?" said Sir Richard. "The game is palling upon me. I swear I will."
"I am growing fair frightened of your magic invincibility," said Lady Anna. "Which are they—fair spirits, or foul shades, by whom you have been gifted with a charmed life? In sober earnest, Richard, let me say to you that a momentous question hinges upon your meeting with Bull Bengough," she added seriously, pressing the young knight's hand by way of a reward for his promise, and then went on to fill his head with gentle flattery.
She told him of how the men-at-arms had sallied out that morning to give battle to a certain traitorous upstart. Unconsciously Sir Richard's mind reverted to Tyrrell. After that, for a considerable space, they sat together in silence, watching the workingmen engaged upon their task of bedizening the seating-place overlooking the lists where the coming tournament was designed to be held.
Presently Lady Anna went from the alcove, taking with her a bundle of books and manuscripts which, Sir Richard had frequently remarked, she often carried about with her through the galleries.
Since his mad entry through the sallyport of Yewe, this was the first clear breathing space Sir Richard had been allowed. He suddenly thought of his companion of that eventful ride. What with the dining and the wining, and the dancing attendance upon this captivating maid and that, and the singularly rapid succession of duels, his time had been pretty well occupied. "But certes," he said to himself, "these are small excuses for having so absolutely forgotten de Claverlok, whom, by my faith, I have not clapt eyes upon since leaving him at the foot of the stairs to go into the presence of Douglas. True, Lord Douglas assured me that he was to be rendered comfortable in other quarters. I dare say he is gone by now," he concluded. "But I'll away to the guards to discover me what has become of the good fellow."
But Sir Richard was counting the spots before his dies had been cast. He borrowed every guard's ear he could find within the precincts of the castle, and returned from the long round barren of the faintest hint in regard to his friend's whereabouts. Not one of them, so they all swore, had so much as heard a whisper of his name.
Feeling a presentiment that some direful mishap had betided his faithful companion, and heaping maledictions upon himself for a thoughtless ingrate, the young knight was walking slowly along one of the inner galleries. As he parted a drapery he came suddenly upon the fool, Lightsom, who had discarded his motley and bells for a garb of black. His habitually mirthful countenance was wearing an expression entirely in sympathy with his somber habit.