bridle-rings and the click of many hoofs. Rivers glanced
apprehensively at the Duke, and then at Grey, and then back again at
the Duke, who was sipping his wine apparently quite oblivious of the
approaching noise. In another moment, at the outer door an imperious
voice demanded:

"Is His Grace of Gloucester within?"

At the tones, Rivers started and dropped his knife upon his plate; his
brows contracted slightly and a troubled look dawned in his eyes.

"Ha, De Lacy, well met!" came the voice again.

"By St. Denis! my lord, I am glad to see you," was the response. "It
is a pleasure I had not counted on this side of London. Have you seen
the Duke?"

"I arrived but this moment. Will you take me to him?"

"Assuredly--he is now at supper, but I shall venture to admit you."

They crossed the outer room, the door opened, and De Lacy stepped
within and announced:

"The Duke of Buckingham!"

The man who entered was full six feet in height and slender, and bore
himself with the easy assurance of one accustomed to respect and
deference. His face was handsome in general outline and effect, though
the features were not accordant with one another. Beneath a mass of