Dorothy willingly agreed, and away they went through room after room, until at last Lettice stopped.
"Let me open the window," she said; "we shall hear better here than anywhere else," and she stepped upon a chair and silently pushed the latticed window open. The balmy breeze came pouring into the room, bringing in with it the sound of the conversation from outside.
"That's splendid," she said. "Now, my lady, listen."
"I tell you it's of no use, Sir Henry. I don't believe a word of it."
"Nevertheless, Sir George, it's perfectly true."
"Well, I cannot believe it," returned the baron, sharply, "but all the same, you will have to fight him now. We shall make quite a grand affair of it; 'tis a rare long time since there was a tournament at Haddon."
"I had rather it passed off quietly," suggested De la Zouch, who was by no means confident of his own prowess in a stern contest with naked weapons. "It is only by thy direct command that I have consented to enter the lists to fight him. 'Tis more a case for the assize than for thee. Sir George, and I have my honour to maintain."
"You must let that remain with me," replied the baron. "Eustace is but a page, and as Manners rightly enough pointed out, his word would count for little in such a circumstance. But apart from all such considerations, I flatly tell you, Sir Henry, that I don't for a minute think him guilty. The ordeal—"
"Tut, bother the ordeal," broke in De la Zouch, who was rapidly losing control of his temper. "Then you doubt me?"
"You are rash, sir knight," interrupted Lady Maude. "You do not do proper justice to the baron."