troth'?"

"Nay, I have not forgotten"--and with sudden hope that made his throat
thicken and his fingers chill he reached over and took her hand.

She did not withdraw it nor reprove him. Instead, she fastened her
eyes on his face as though to read his very heart and soul.
Unconsciously they had checked their horses. Then she blushed, and
averting her eyes in confusion strove to release her hand. But De Lacy
pressed on, though his heart beat fast and his head throbbed. Leaning
across, he put his arm about her waist and drew her--struggling
gently--toward him.

"And the kerchief, dear one?" he whispered.

"Nay, Aymer, you surely do not wish it now," she answered brokenly.

"Now, more than any earthly gift or Heavenly grace. . . Give it to me,
sweetheart."

She had ceased to resist and his face was getting perilously near her
own.

Suddenly, and with a smile De Lacy never forgot, she drew forth the bit
of torn lace. "Here, take it, dear," she said.

"And you with it, sweetheart?" he cried.

"Unto death, my lord," she answered; and once more the blushes came.

She tried to hide her face in her hands, but with a joyous laugh Aymer
lifted her from the saddle and swung her across and into his strong
arms.

XV

THE FROWN OF FATE

It was the Countess' wish that the betrothal should remain secret for the
present, and therefore none but Their Majesties and Sir John de Bury were
acquainted with it. The old Knight, when approached by De Lacy on the
subject, had clapped him heartily on the shoulder.

"Take her, lad," he exclaimed; "and be worthy, even as I think you will.
The King, himself, has spoken in your behalf . . . to say naught of the
maid herself. But by St. Luke! this fortune will bring its drag. The
Countess has had too many suitors for the favored one to escape unhated.
Nay, do not shrug your shoulders . . . or, at least, there is no harm in
shrugging if your wit be keen, your dagger ever ready, and your arm
strong. Remember, De Lacy, that you are a stranger, high in favor with
the King, and that Beatrix has broad acres as well as a fair face."

"And also that there is a certain, flat-nosed, red-haired knave at large,
who, perchance, may honor me, even as he did you."

"Spare him, lad, spare him for me! . . . Yet if he should come under
your sword, put a bit more force in the blow for my sake."

"Trust me for that. . . I shall split him six inches deeper--and tell
him why as I do i