and only
after a moment or two could Malcolm perceive that, close to the great
fire, sat a party of four, playing at what he supposed to be that French
game with painted cards of which Patrick Drummond had told him, and that
the rest seemed to be in attendance upon them.

Dark eyed and haired, with a creamy ivory skin, and faultless form and
feature, the fair Catherine would have been unmistakable, save that as
Henry hurried forward, the lights glancing on his jaded face, matted
hair, and soaked dress, the first to spring forward to meet him was a
handsome young man, who wrung his hand, crying, 'Ah, Harry, Harry, then
'tis too true!' while the lady made scarcely a step forwards: no shade of
colour tinged her delicate cheek; and though she did not resist his
fervent embrace, it was with a sort of recoil, and all she was heard to
say was, '_Eh, Messire, vos bottes sont crottees_!'

'You know all, Kate?' he asked, still holding her hand, and looking
afraid of inflicting a blow.

'The battle? Is it then so great a disaster?' and, seeing his amazed
glance, 'The poor Messire de Clarence! it was pity of him; he was a
handsome prince.'

'Ah, sweet, he held thee dear,' said Henry, catching at the crumb of
sympathy.

'But yes,' said Catherine, evidently perplexed by the strength of his
feeling, and repeating, 'He was a _beau sieur courtois_. But surely it
will not give the Armagnacs the advantage?'

'With Heaven's aid, no! But how fares it with poor Madge--his wife, I
mean?'

'She is away to her estates. She went this morn, and wished to have
taken with her the Demoiselle de Beaufort; but I forbade that--I could
not be left without one lady of the blood.'

'Alack, Joan--' and Henry was turning, but Catherine interrupted him.
'You have not spoken to Madame of Hainault, nor to the Duke of Orleans.
Nay, you are in no guise to speak to any one,' she added, looking with
repugnance at the splashes of mud that reached even to his waist.

'I will don a fresh doublet, sweetheart,' said Henry, more rebuked than
seemed fitting, 'and be ready to sup anon.'

'Supper! We supped long ago.'

'That may be; but we have ridden long since we snatched our meal, that I
might be with thee the sooner, my Kate.'

'That was not well in you, my Lord, to come in thus dishevelled, steaming
with wet--not like a king. You will be sick, my Lord.'

The little word of solicitude recalled his sweet tender smile of
gratitude. No fear, _ma b