“No did, Sir? Then I cry your Lordship mercy that I misconceived you.”
“Dame, I demand of you whether your brothers gave unto you no aid in this matter?”
Constance was in a sore strait. She did not much care to what conclusion the House came as concerned Edward: he was the prime mover in the affair, and richly deserved any thing he might get, irrespective of this proceeding altogether. But that any harm should come to Richard was a thought not to be borne. She was at her wits’ end what to answer, and was on the point of denying that either had assisted her, when the Chancellor’s next remark gave her a clue.
“If ne my Lord of York ne my Lord of Cambridge did aid you, how cometh it to pass that three servants of the Duke’s Grace were with you in your journey?”
“Ask at their master, not me,” said Constance coolly.
“’Tis plain, Madam, that his Grace of York did give you aid, methinks.”
“You be full welcome, Sir Keeper, to draw your own conclusions.”
“Lo’ you, my Lords, the prisoner denieth it not!—And my Lord of Cambridge—what part took he. Lady?”
“Never a whit, Sir,” answered Constance audaciously.
“May I crede you, mewondereth?”