hold, got him quick service and hearty attention, and he made the
best speed possible under the circumstances; though it was often poor
enough to cause him to grit his teeth in helpless despair and anxiety.
League after league was done no faster than a walk; the horse, at every
step, sinking into the mud far above fetlock, and coming to the relief
station completely exhausted. And all the day the rain poured down
without cessation, and the roads grew heavier and more impassable until
they were little else than running streams of dirty water pierced, here
and there, by the crest of a hill that poked its head out like a
submerged mountain.

But through it all, with head bent low on his breast, and bonnet pulled
far down over his eyes, De Lacy forged ahead, tarrying only long enough
at the stations to change mounts.

At mid-day half the distance had been covered, and as evening drew near
they crossed the Trent and, presently, were out of Yorkshire. Then as
night closed about them, the lights of Lincoln glimmered faint in the
fore, and shaking up the tired horses they hastened on. And at last
the castle was reached; the guards at the outer gate, recognizing the
King's Body-Knight, saluted and fell back; and with a sigh of relief,
De Lacy swung down from his saddle, the long ride over at last.

Just within the corridor he came upon Sir Ralph de Wilton, who started
forward in surprise:

"By all the Saints! De Lacy! . . . But are you drowned or in the
flesh?"

"Both, methinks. Where are my quarters--or have none been assigned me?"

"Your room is next mine. Come, I will show the way; for by my faith,
you need a change of raiment; you are mud and water from bonnet to
spur. What in the Devil's name sent you traveling on such a night?"

"The King's business, Ralph; ask me no more at present. . . His
Majesty is in the castle?"

"Aye! and in the best of fettle," De Wilton answered good-naturedly.
"Here are your quarters; and that they are saved for you shows your
position in the Court. The place is crowded to the roof."

"I fancy I can thank you rather than my position--at any rate, Ralph,
squire me out of these clothes; they cling like Satan's chains."

"I would I could cast those same chains off as easily," De Wilton
replied, as he unlaced the rain-soaked doublet and flung it on the
couch. "Tell me, Aymer, did you find aught of . . . of her?"

"No and yes," De Lacy answered, after a silence, "I did not find