"At Gaillard Castle in the shire of Leicester, close by the River Weak—or at least it stood there when last I saw it. It is ten long years since I crossed its drawbridge and not twelve months of my life have been spent within its walls."
"Your accent smacks of a Southern sun," said the Duke.
"My mother was of a French house, and to her own land she took me when my father died;" and, observing the Duke glance at his spurs, he added: "It was from France's Constable that I received the accolade."
"Then right well did you deserve it; St. Pol gave no unearned honors."
"I was favored much beyond my deserts," De Lacy replied, although his face flushed at a compliment from the renowned Gloucester.
"Your modesty but proves your merit," returned the Duke… "And now your message. From whom come you?"
"From the Duke of Buckingham, my lord," said De Lacy; and the keen look that accompanied the words did not escape the Prince. But De Lacy did not know the man before whom he stood, else would he have wasted no energy in any such attempt. As well try to read the visage of a granite cliff as to discover the thoughts of Richard Plantagenet from the expression of his face. And if the royal Duke were in aught concerned as to the communication of the powerful Buckingham, there was no evidence of it in his voice or in the eminently courteous and appropriate question as he instantly responded:
"How did you leave His Grace and where?"
"He was most hearty when we parted at Gloucester; he for his castle of Brecknock and I for Pontefract."
"He had been in London?"