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Going to the window, he saw that his room was some thirty feet above the stone-flagged courtyard, and also that it looked at an angle upon other windows in the old castle where lights were beginning to show. He saw men-at-arms moving about, and once he thought he caught a glimpse of a woman's figure, but he was not sure. He wondered what had become of Joan de Tany and Mary de Stutevill.
I would that I had never come into her life, but I did not know what I was doing; and the spell of her beauty and goodness was strong upon me, so that I was weak and could not resist what I had never known before in all my life love." "You could not well be blamed," said Joan de Tany, generously.
"You will never lose the friendship of Joan de Tany," she answered. "You have won her respect and and " But she could not say it and so she trailed off lamely "and undying gratitude." But Norman of Torn knew the word that she would have spoken had he dared to let her.
Quickly she hastened to the outer barbican that it might be she who answered their hail rather than one of the men-at-arms on watch there. She had scarcely reached the ramparts of the outer gate ere the King's men drew rein before the castle. In reply to their hail, Joan de Tany asked their mission. "We seek the outlaw, Norman of Torn, who hides now within this castle," replied the officer.
"But this crude outlaw was not satisfied with merely rescuing the girl, he must needs mete out justice to her noble abductor and collect in full the toll of blood which alone can atone for the insult and violence done her. "My Lady, the young girl was Joan de Tany; the noble was My Lord the Earl of Buckingham; and the outlaw stands before you to fulfill the duty he has sworn to do.
"Suppose I can't have been fool enough to imagine it. Never heard of a man being haunted by a perfume." He lowered his head to the pillow feeling, for no explainable reason, strangely disquieted, only to rise again almost instantly exclaiming: "'Tany rate, this is no imagination." For the reek of onions was in the air gross and nauseous. You could have cut it with a knife.
"I am Richard de Tany of Essex," said the oldest knight, he who had first spoken, "and these be my daughter and her friend, Mary de Stutevill. We are upon our way from London to my castle. What would you of us? Name your price, if it can be paid with honor, it shall be paid; only let us go our way in peace. We cannot hope to resist the Devil of Torn, for we be but ten lances.
The two girls sat rigid in their saddles watching the encounter, the eyes of Joan de Tany alight with the fire of battle as she followed every move of the wondrous swordplay of Roger de Conde. He had not even taken the precaution to lower his visor, and the grim and haughty smile that played upon his lips spoke louder than many words the utter contempt in which he held the sword of his adversary.
His life had been a hard and lonely one. The only ray of brilliant and warming sunshine that had entered it had been his love for Bertrade de Montfort and hers for him. His every thought was loyal to the woman whom he knew was not for him, but he longed for the companionship of his own kind and so welcomed the friendship of such as Joan de Tany and her fair guest.
That afternoon, as Roger de Conde was admitted to the castle of Richard de Tany and escorted to a little room where he awaited the coming of the Lady Joan, a swarthy messenger handed a letter to the captain of the King's soldiers camped a few miles south of Tany. The officer tore open the seal as the messenger turned and spurred back in the direction from which he had come.
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