"Can you suggest what else it proves, sir?" quoth Sir John, and there
was doubt in his voice.

Sir Oliver caught the note of it, and a sob broke from him.

"O God of pity!" he cried out. "There is doubt in your voice, and there
is none in hers. You were my enemy once, and have since been in a
mistrustful truce with me, yet you can doubt that I did this thing.
But she...she who loved me has no room for any doubt!"

"Sir Oliver," she answered him, "the thing you have done has broken
quite my heart. Yet knowing all the taunts by which you were brought to
such a deed I could have forgiven it, I think, even though I could no
longer be your wife; I could have forgiven it, I say, but for the
baseness of your present denial."

He looked at her, white-faced an instant, then turned on his heel and
made for the door. There he paused.

"Your meaning is quite plain," said he. "It is your wish that I shall
take my trial for this deed." He laughed. "Who will accuse me to the
Justices? Will you, Sir John?"

"If Mistress Rosamund so desires me," replied the knight.

"Ha! Be it so. But do not think I am the man to suffer myself to be
sent to the gallows upon such paltry evidence as satisfies that lady.
If any accuser comes to bleat of a trail of blood reaching to my door,
and of certain words I spoke yesterday in anger, I will take my trial--
but it shall be trial by battle upon the body of my accuser. That is my