u are bound no longer to Lord Darby's service," Sir Aymer
admonished. "He is traitor to the King, and will die on the block
within the month."

The Gorges raised the hem of the Countess' gown and kissed it; and
taking her hand placed it on his head.

"I am your man," he said. "Henceforth do with me as to you may seem
good."

XXVI

THE JUDGMENT OF THE KING

In the Painted Chamber of the Palace of Westminster the Court was
gathered. Through the great long room, amid the soft light of scores
upon scores of candles, moved the gorgeously attired throng--waiting
for the King whose usual hour of entrance was long since past. And
curiosity was rife, and uneasiness in the atmosphere.

For the times were sadly unsettled; and among those who had for an
instant hesitated between Tudor and Plantagenet--and their number was
not small--there was grave anxiety, lest their faint loyalty had come
to Richard's ears. And to such it was scarce a comforting reflection
that, in Exeter, the headsman had just done his grim work upon St.
Leger; albeit he were husband of the King's own sister. If he were
condemned for treason, even though it were open and notorious, who that
were tainted ever so slightly were likely to be spared?

But all the while, the ladies laughed and chatted gayly, and the
knights bowed and smiled and answered back in kind; and the throng as a
whole seemed to be without a shred of care.

At one group of young matrons there was much merriment; and as Lord
Darby chanced to stroll by, they hailed him banteringly, inviting him
to join them. But he declined with sarcastic pleasantry.

"Fie, sir! It was not a gallant speech," cried the Lady Strange, with
a toss of her golden locks; "and if your tongue be as acid always,
there is small wonder that rumor gave another precedence in the favor
of the Countess of Clare."

Darby halted and bowed low and long--very low and very long.

"Your ladyship does me too much honor," he said, with well assumed
humility, "in even thinking of the Countess of Clare and my poor self
in the same moment."

"Doubtless I do--since your devotion was too feeble even to send you to
her rescue."

"And now you do me deep injustice; I sought the Countess from the day
following the abduction until all hope was gone. Methinks alas! she
has long since been gathered with the Saints."

The Countess of Ware--the Lady Mary Percy that was--laughed with gibing
intonation.

"There is on