“What of our road?” interrupted Sir Nicholas, combing his beard to a point. “Could you discover the way?”
“Never fear me, master. There will be some ’cross country work to be done yet, over the hills, but we may go on a fair track, so I understand, as far as Villanova. You ask me how I might find this out without betraying matters not for the tapster’s ears? Very simply, sir. I am loud in my complaints that there is no road but the one in these parts. In the south, say I, we are better served. That put our dawcock on his mettle, I warrant you. ‘Ho!’ says he, ‘I’d have you know there is the road that runs to join the post-road a matter of ten miles to the east of the Great House, and another which runs past the hunting-lodge in the forest to Villanova.”
“We found Villanova on the map,” said Sir Nicholas. “What is this hunting-lodge?”
“Be sure I asked, master. It need not concern us, being no more than a summerhouse that yon popinjay, Diego, uses for his sports. More sports than you might think, master, I dare swear. It lies a matter of five miles from here, and the track comes out not a hundred yards from this inn. I have conned it. Now it seems to me, master, if you are to steal your lady away, I had best have the horses tethered in the spinney hard by the Great House, and so make that track as speedily as may be possible.” He saw that Sir Nicholas had put on a clean ruff, and plucked a poking-stick from out his doublet. “So please you, sir, we will poke out the folds of the ruff a little. Will you have me procure a third horse with a lady’s saddle?”
Sir Nicholas frowned into the mirror. “I dare not take the risk,” he said after a moment’s thought. “We want no questions asked, no tongues set wagging. I’ll have my lady up before me as far as to Villanova.” He glanced out into the fast gathering darkness. “Dark enough for me to venture,” he said. “Can you find that track at need, my man?”
“I have it safe in my head, master.” Joshua put up the poking-stick. “But I would know, sir, what plan you have in mind.”
Sir Nicholas rose up from his chair. His eyes twinkled. “Marry, so would I know, Joshua,” he said frankly.
Joshua shook his head severely. “This is no way to go to work, master. What, do you think to have the noble lady away this night with never a plan in your head?”
“I know not. I’ve a-many plans, but I move in the dark, my friend, and I have need to nose about a little. Maybe I shall get her off tonight, if opportunity serves; maybe I shall hold my hand a while. We will take the horses in case of need. See a fresh pair saddled, and tell what lie leaps most readily to your tongue.”
Joshua prepared to depart. “I shall take leave to say, master, that a man has to be nimble-witted to keep pace with you,” he remarked, and went out.
Sir Nicholas did not inquire what lie had been told when he came down twenty minutes later. Joshua had two good horses at the door, and the landlord seemed satisfied. Sir Nicholas swung his cloak over his arm, and sallied forth.
They had not far to go to the spinney Joshua had located. It ran on a low wall, crumbling and ivy-grown, which shut in the gardens of the house they sought. The wall was easy enough to come over. The horses were tethered in a thicket, a hundred yards or more from the road. Sir Nicholas set a hand on the low wall, and vaulted lightly over; Joshua climbed after him.
They found themselves behind a yew hedge that bordered a paved walk. There were openings cut in it, and through one of these they went, to the pleasaunce.
Ahead of them the house loomed up in the darkness; they could see a light burning through an open window on the ground-floor, and another in a room above-stairs. For the rest there seemed to be no sign of life in the house, or else the windows were shuttered.
“Stay you in the lee of that hedge,” Sir Nicholas whispered. “I am off to see what is to be seen.” He slipped past, and was across the pleasaunce before Joshua could expostulate; bareheaded, a hand on his sword-hilt.
Joshua saw him reach the shadow of the house, and lost him then for a space. Evidently he was making a reconnaissance of those dark windows. Joshua shivered and drew his cloak more closely about him.
There was no sound behind the shuttered windows, nor any light discernible. The place seemed to be strangely quiet, or else this side of the house was not much inhabited. Sir Nicholas stole along until he stood beneath the one unshuttered window. Flattening himself against the wall, he peeped cautiously in.
The window stood wide to the cool evening air; the room seemed to be a sort of winter parlour, very elegantly furnished. In a chair half-turned from the window sat Doña Beatrice de Carvalho, reading from a gilt-bound volume.
Sir Nicholas considered her for a moment. Then with a little shrug of fatalism he set his hands on the sill and noiselessly swung one leg over.
Doña Beatrice, yawning over her book, heard a tiny sound, the click of a scabbard against the stone wall. She turned her head towards the window, and for once was startled out of her composure. She let fall her book.
“I give you a thousand good-morrows, señora,” said Sir Nicholas pleasantly, and came gracefully into the room.
Doña Beatrice recovered herself. “My dear Chevalier!” she drawled. “Or should I say my dear Señor Beauvallet?”
“But were you in doubt?” said Sir Nicholas, one eyebrow up.
“Very little,” she
