Eleanor came a step nearer and spoke very quietly and kindly.
"You are wrong," she said. "Sir Gilbert is sent by the King to take me as a prisoner, that I may be carried away to Jerusalem this very night. Come, you shall hear the voices of the soldiers who are waiting for me."
She led Beatrix to the door and lifted the curtain, so that through the wooden panels the girl could hear the talking of many voices, and the clank of steel. Then Eleanor brought her back.
"But he would not take me," she said, "and he warned me of my danger."
"No wonder—he loves you!"
"He does not love me, though I love him, and he has said so to-night.
And I know that he loves you and is faithful to you—"
Beatrix laughed wildly.
"Faithful! He? There is no faith in his greatest oath, nor in his smallest word!"
"You are mad, child; he never lied in all his life to me or you—he could not lie."
"Then he has deceived you, too—Queen, Duchess; you are only a woman, after all, and he has made sport of you, as he has of me!" Again she laughed, half furiously.