Darby turned upon the young Knight with a gesture of sharp surprise.
"None but a weakling could hear Sir Aymer's tale without a rush of hot resentment," he exclaimed.
"By the Rood! I observed only a rush of oaths," Sir Ralph laughed.
Darby's quick anger flamed up; and jerking off his riding gauntlet he flung it at De Wilton's face. But the Abbot dexterously caught the glove.
"For shame, Lord Darby, for shame!" he said, "that you, a man in life's full prime, should so far forget your knighthood over a bit of innocent banter. Nor may you, Sir Ralph de Wilton, accept the gage. This is holy ground; dedicated to the worship of the Humble One; and I charge you both, by your vows of humility, to let this matter end here and not to carry it beyond yonder gates. Have I your promise, my lord?"
"If Sir Ralph de Wilton be willing, I am content. Doubtless I was hasty," Darby answered with well-assumed frankness, his passion quickly curbed.
"And you, Sir Ralph?" the Abbot queried.
"Am content, even as Lord Darby. I have no cause for quarrel," De Wilton replied indifferently.
Darby bowed curtly in acknowledgment; then sprang into saddle.
"I shall gallop straight to Pontefract;"—addressing De Lacy—"I may aid in the search. Have you any message for the King?"