r the volcanic extinguishing of the lamp.

But there she stood, dainty and calm under the morning sunshine, in
fresh clean gown of lace and varied whiteness, her face grave as a
benediction, her eyes deep and cool like the water of the castle well.

Sholto started violently at sight of her, recovered himself, and
eagerly held out both his hands.

"Maud," he said hoarsely, and then again, in a lower tone, "sweetest
Maud."

But pretty Mistress Lindesay only gazed at him with a certain reserved
and grave surprise, looking him straight in the face and completely
ignoring his outstretched hands.

"Captain Sholto," she said steadily and calmly, "the Lady Margaret
desires to see you and to thank you for your last night's care and
watchfulness. Will you do me the honour to follow me to her chamber?"

There was no yielding softness about this maiden of the morning hours,
no conscious droop and a swift uplifting of penitent eyelids, no
lingering glances out of love-weighted eyes. A brisk and practical
little lady rather, her feet pattering most purposefully along the
flagged passages and skipping faster than even Sholto could follow
her. But at the top of the second stairs he was overquick for her. By
taking the narrow edges of the steps he reached the landing level with
his mistress.

His desire was to put out his hand to circle her lithe waist, for
nothing is so certainly reproductive of its own species as a first
kiss. But he had reckoned without the lady's mutual intent and favour,
which in matters of this kind are proverbially important. Mistress
Maud eluded him, without appearing to do so, and stood farther off,
safely poised for flight, looking down at him with cold, reproachful
eyes.

"Maud Lindesay, have you forgotten last night and the lamp?" he asked
indignantly.

"What may you mean, Captain Sholto?" she said, with wonderment in her
tone, "Margaret and I never use lamps. Candles are so much safer,
especially at night."

CHAPTER XIX

LA JOYEUSE BAITS HER HOOK

On the morrow, the ambassador of France being confined to his room
with a slight quinsy caught from the marshy nature of the environment
of Thrieve, the Earl escorted the Lady Sybilla to the field of the
tourney, where, as Queen of Beauty, her presence could not be
dispensed with.

The Maid Margaret, the Earl's sister, remained also in the castle, not
having yet recovered from her fright of the preceding evening.

With her was Maud Lind