The question asked itself a many a time, and was as often answerless,
before there came a stir without and voices in the corridor. It was the
changing of the guard, I guessed, and so it proved, since presently I
heard the clanking of the officer's sword, and double footfalls
minishing into silence.

The sentry newly come paced back and forth to a low-hummed quick-step of
his own, bestirring himself as one who, roused but now from sleep,
would wake himself and be alert. He made more noise than did the other,
and that is why I marked it when the footfalls ceased abruptly. A moment
afterward the bar was lifted cautiously from its socket, the latch
clicked gently, and the door swung open. I looked, and must needs look
again to make assurance sure. For on the threshold stood my lady
Margery, and just behind her some broad figure of a woman whom I knew
for her stout Norman tiring-maid.

She gave me little time for any word of welcome or of deprecation. While
still I stood amazed she dragged the woman in with her and closed the
door. At that I found my tongue.

"Margery! Why have you come?" I spoke in French, and she was quick to
lay a finger on her lip.

"Speak to me in English, if you please," she whispered. "Jeanne knows
nothing, and she need not know. But you ask why I come: could I do less
than come, dear friend?"

I had always marveled that she could be so mocking hard at times, and at
other times--as now--so soft and gentle. And though I thought it cruel
that I should have to fight my battle for the losing of her over again,