Meanwhile the men-at-arms led by Raynor Royk had poured across the bridge and were crowding close in the rear.

"Bear aside, my lords!" the veteran shouted high above the din of the clashing steel. "We will sweep the way clean by a rush."

But neither Knight gave heed. Gradually De Lacy was driving his foe before him. Step by step he forced him back, until presently they were free of the wall and into the outer bailey. Then he first noticed that, though his opponent bore no device upon shield or hauberk nor crest upon helm, his armor was scarcely of the sort wont to be worn by retainers or simple men-at-arms; it was far too handsome in its lines and fashion and much too beautifully forged. And as he parried the sword strokes, waiting for an opening when he could end the conflict by a crashing blow, he tried to distinguish the face behind the bars of the visor. At first he had thought it was some retainer masquerading in one of Lord Darby's suits of mail, but the sword play was manifestly that of no common soldier; it was too graceful and too skillful to have been learned amid the turmoil of the camp and battle. And suddenly the great hope came that it was Darby himself--who had eluded the King and, following after, had pa.s.sed him at Pontefract. Instantly the cool method of his fighting vanished; his fingers took a fresh and tighter grip; his battle-cry "Clare! Clare!" rang out vengefully; and with all the fury of his wrongs and pent-up hate he sprang in close. And as he swept his axe aloft its heavy head caught the other's sword and tore it clean away, sending it far across the bailey where it fell with a clang.

To many, here would have been the conflict's end; yet even as the hilt quit his fingers, the unknown plucked forth his heavy dagger and sprang straight at De Lacy.

Aymer met the attack by facing on his right heel swiftly to the left, and as the other, unable to recover himself, struck wildly at the air, the axe caught him full upon the shoulder, biting through gorget and gambeson and deep into the neck beneath.

Bending over his fallen foe, De Lacy cut the lacings of the helmet and drew it off--then started back in wonder.

Instead of the dark curls and face of Roxford's lord there were disclosed the tonsured head and pale features of the Abbot of Kirkstall.

"Pardieu!" he exclaimed, gazing down into the face already set in death. . . "You were my enemy, yet had I known whom this suit encased, methinks my arm had dealt an easier blow. Nathless, you were a better knight than churchman and, mayhap, it was a proper death for you to die."

Just then, De Bury's antagonist went by, running as easy as though his mail were silk and shouting:

"To the keep! To the keep!" to those upon the walls. And behind him came Sir John, and the squires, and Raynor Royk with all the troop.

Whirling about, De Lacy sprang after. But here had he and all the others met their match; for strain as they might, they gained not an inch; and when the foe reached the steps they were yet fifty feet away.

The door was open for him and rushing in he flung it shut, but with such force that it missed the catch and rebounded--and at that instant, De Lacy thrust in his axe and he and Dauvrey threw themselves against the door and slowly forced it back. Then of a sudden, it yielded and they were near to falling headlong.

Shouting his battle-cry, Aymer strode into the great hall and made for the wide stairway at the opposite end, where the remnants of the garrison were gathered for the final stand. There were but nine and of them only the three in front were garbed in steel; and in the centre was he who had held the gate against Sir John de Bury.

Out-matched and out-armed there could be for them but one end to the melee; for though they held the vantage post yet it counted little against those who were arrayed below them, eager to begin.

Nevertheless, they stood calm and ready, leaning on their weapons, and showed no glint of fear. And De Lacy, in admiration and loath to put them to the sword, raised his axe for silence.

"You bear yourselves as men deserving of a better cause," he cried, "and I fain would not have your blood spilled needlessly. Yield yourselves prisoners, and scathless shall you leave this castle within the hour--all save one, if he be among you, the flat-nosed retainer of Lord Darby. Him must I carry to the King."

A gruff laugh came from the figure in the centre and he swung his visor up.

"Aye, sirs, be not surprised. Behold him you have dubbed Flat-Nose--by true name, Simon Gorges--the leader of your a.s.sailants, Sir John de Bury, when yon Knight saved you--the abductor of the Countess of Clare--the man who eluded you, Sir Aymer de Lacy, at the house in Sheffield." And he laughed again. "And now do I thank your worship for the proffered clemency to my fellows, and for the honor you have in store for me. Yet am I scarce fit to stand before His Majesty; nor do the followers of the Master of Roxford accept favor or life from the enemy of their lord. Here await we the onslaught, fair sirs, and let it come quickly that it may be quickly done."

"Stay!" cried De Lacy fiercely. "You have many more sins upon your soul, doubtless, than those just vaunted, yet will you not do one redeeming act ere you are sped? For of a verity you shall die ere the shadows yonder lengthen by a span. Where, I ask you, shall I find the Countess of Clare?"

Flat-Nose smiled.

"You will find her when you have topped these stairs," he answered, and snapped his visor shut.

"I claim the villain!" De Bury exclaimed.

"Take him," said De Lacy--and whispered, to Giles Dauvrey: "Keep behind Sir John, and if he weaken take his place until I come."

Then with the old Knight in the middle and Aymer and Raynor Royk on either hand, they advanced to the fight.

But whereas at the gate they were on equal footing, here the a.s.sailed had vastly the advantage; for standing on the edge of the landing, where the stairs divided, they were high above their foes. So the conflict began warily; and on the third step below the three halted and made play with the three above, seeking for a chance to rush up and get on even terms. But the others were not to be confused by tricks or taken unaware, and were content to act only on the defensive and wait their opportunity. And so they struggled for a while, with no result on either side save that the strain grew heavy and the breath came harder than at first.

Suddenly, Gorges' heavy blade found an opening, and Sir John de Bury, with a great hole in his helmet, staggered back and sank into the arms of the men behind him. But it brought no respite to the victor, for Giles Dauvrey stepped into the vacant place and his sword and Flat-Nose's rang viciously together.

With a groan De Lacy marked the old Knight's fall; then as for an instant his opponent's eye wandered thither, he sprang up inside his stroke, and gripping him with both hands about the ankles threw him over his head and clean to the pavement below.

At this moment, Raynor Royk cut down his foe and joined his leader on the landing with the men-at-arms at his back. Then, indeed, was the fight quickly ended--save where Simon Gorges still held the squire at bay.

And while they fought a queer thing happened in the hall below, for Sir John de Bury got suddenly upon his feet and came toward the stairs.

"You must strike harder, Flat-Nose, to reach a skull through Spanish bascinet," he said. "Yet of a verity, did you stun me sore and show me stars in millions. Have at him, De Lacy, I resign the rogue to you--my legs are over shaky to stand on yonder stair."

De Lacy motioned all to move back.

"Flat-Nose!" he called. "You shall have one more chance. Will you yield prisoner?"

Instantly Dauvrey stepped down out of reach and grounded blade.

"To dangle in a halter from the gate tower?" scoffed Gorges, facing about. "Not by St. Edward! Cry on your dogs."

"Has life then grown tiresome to you?"

"Marry, no! Yet it is but a change of deaths you offer; and I prefer the one that finds me sword in hand."

"You have said the Countess of Clare is in this castle. Will you accept life from her if she decree it; or in steel harness fight me to the death, if she condemn you?" De Lacy asked.

Flat-Nose flung down his sword and raised his visor.

"I accept the offer, Sir Knight," he said. "I will risk the lady's judgment. Knock upon the door in the farthest corner, and she, herself, will open to you--there is no lock upon it, save that she has inside."

"Will you come with me, Sir John?" De Lacy called, as Dauvrey made haste to unlace his lord's helmet and lift it off.

De Bury shook his head. "Nay, lad, it is your right first. Later will I join you and gladly."

Without further urging Aymer hurried down the corridor and tapped lightly at the door, beyond which, if Flat-Nose spoke truly, he would find his lost betrothed. No answer came, and he rapped again and louder. But within was silence and he waited vainly for response.

Then with rising suspicion that he had been tricked by Darby's minion, he struck the panel sharply and with force--and the door swung back until it was open wide.

For a moment he hesitated; but when another knock brought no reply, he ventured across the threshold and into the room a little way. Then as his eyes chanced upon a hat with long plumes, lying on a table, and beside it a veil and a woman's gauntlets, he was seized with sudden fright and turned to flee.

But on the instant, from behind, two arms were flung about his neck and a soft cheek was pressed against his own, and a voice, than which to him the world contained none sweeter, whispered in his ear:

"Aymer, my lord!"

XXV

A PAGE FROM THE PAST

With a cry of deepest gladness he whirled and caught his lost love to him, and kissed her brow and ruddy hair, and his voice broke and his eyes dimmed as he repeated many times: