back to him," said Nigel,
troubled and stammering; "for indeed I had rather never ride to the wars
than take from a brave man his only suit of plate."

"There spoke your father's spirit!" cried the King. "By the rood! Nigel,
I like you full well. Let the matter bide in my hands. But I marvel much
that Sir Aymery the Lombard hath not come to us yet from Windsor."

From the moment of his arrival at Tilford, again and again King Edward
had asked most eagerly whether Sir Aymery had come, and whether there
was any news of him, so that the courtiers glanced at each other in
wonder. For Aymery was known to all of them as a famous mercenary of
Italy, lately appointed Governor of Calais, and this sudden and urgent
summons from the King might well mean some renewal of the war with
France, which was the dearest wish of every soldier. Twice the King had
stopped his meal and sat with sidelong head; his wine-cup in his hand,
listening attentively when some sound like the clatter of hoofs was
heard from outside; but the third time there could be no mistake. The
tramp and jingle of the horses broke loud upon the ear, and ended in
hoarse voices calling out of the darkness, which were answered by the
archers posted as sentries without the door.

"Some traveler has indeed arrived, my liege," said Nigel. "What is your
royal will?"

"It can be but Aymery," the King answered, "for it was only to him that
I left the message that he should follow me hither. Bid him come in, I
pray you, and make him very welcome at your board."

Nigel cast open the door, plucking a torch from its bracket as he did
so. Half a dozen men-at-arms sat on their horses outside, but one had
dismounted, a short, squat, swarthy man with a rat face and quick,
restless brown eyes which peered eagerly past Nigel into the red glare
of the well-lit hall.

"I am Sir Aymery of Pavia," he whispered. "For God's sake, tell me! is
the King within?"

"He is at table, fair sir, and he bids you to enter."

"One moment, young man, one moment, and a secret word in your ear. Wot
you why it is that the King has sent for me?"

Nigel read terror in the dark cunning eyes which glanced in sidelong
fashion into his. "Nay, I know not."

"I would I knew--I would I was sure ere I sought his presence."

"You have but to cross the threshold, fair sir, and doubtless you will
learn from the King's own lips."

Sir Aymery seemed to gather himself as one who braces for a spring into
ice-c