"We will see that you play us no more such tricks," said Aymer. "Bind him with your sword belt."
The patrol bent over and tried to put the strap around the man's arms. The body was limp in his grasp.
"He is unconscious, my lord," he said.
"It may be a sham," said De Lacy, dismounting… "Pasque Dieu! your belt will not be needed. The man is dead: his neck is broken… It is a graceless thing to do, yet … Here, my man, help me carry the body out into the moonlight yonder … now, search it for a letter—for a letter, mark you, nothing else."
Kneeling beside it, the soldier did as he was bid, and presently drew forth a bit of parchment. It was without superscription and De Lacy broke the wax.
"As I thought," he muttered, as his eyes fell upon the signature; then, letting the moonlight fall full upon the page, he read:
"Vaughan:
"Buckingham joined Gloucester this evening. Grey and I are prisoners in the inn. Send Edward on to London instantly with Croft. If necessary, use force to keep the King, and then mark well the Dukes. I may not write more; time is precious. I trust in your discretion.
"Rivers."
"It will go ill with the Earl when Richard sees these words," thought De Lacy, as he mounted and returned to the road, where Dauvrey was patiently standing guard over the other prisoner.
"Come, Giles," he said, "secure his bridle rein. We will drop him at the next guard post, and in the morning he can return and bury the squire."
There was the faintest blush of dawn in the eastern sky as De Lacy and Dauvrey crossed the Nene and re-entered Northampton. At the inn all was quiet, and Aymer ascended quickly to Gloucester's room. The Duke was lying on the bed, fully dressed, and the gown that Catesby had placed ready to his hand had not been touched. He greeted the young Knight with a smile and without rising.