Darby smiled at the evasion. "Are you not for the Coronation?" he asked bluntly.
De Lacy nodded. "Indeed, yes—unless I am untowardly prevented."
"If you fare further to-day," said Darby, "I will wait and we can ride together to Doncaster—a short delay will be well repaid by your company."
It was but a play to know if De Lacy intended to stay the night at Pontefract, and it got its answer instantly.
"Your Lordship tempts me sorely," said Sir Aymer, "but I am obliged to remain here until the morrow." Then he smiled blandly at him; "it is unfortunate you have already started," he added.
Darby's black eyes brightened.
"Yes," said he, "it is."
He glanced quickly toward his escort, which was now at the foot of the hill, and laid his hand upon his bugle, as though to sound the recall—then he gave a mocking laugh.
"The luck is yours, this toss," he said; and with a wave of his hand, that might have been as much a menace as a farewell, he spurred away.
There were no faces at the windows as De Lacy crossed the courtyard, and he despatched a page to acquaint the Countess of Clare of his arrival and of his desire for a short interview. Presently the boy returned with the information that the Countess was with the Duchess, and that she could not see him before evening.