"Madam," answered the dark lady, smiling thoughtfully, "I think that,
since you have offered him gold first, he would refuse a kingdom if you
should press it upon him now, for he is a brave man."
"Do you know him?" asked Eleanor, almost sharply, and her eyes
hardened.
"I have seen him many times, but I have never spoken with him. We talk
of him now and then, because he is unlike the other knights, mixing
little with them in the camp and riding often alone on the march. They
say he is very poor, and he is surely brave."
"What does Beatrix de Curboil say of him?" The Queen's voice was still
sharp.
"Beatrix? She is my friend, poor girl. I never heard her speak of this
gentleman."
"She is very silent, is she not?"
"Oh, no! She is sometimes sad, and she has told me how her father took
a second wife who was unkind to her, and she speaks of her own
childhood as if she were the daughter of a great house. But that is
all."
"And she never told you her stepmother's name, and never mentioned this
Englishman?"
"Never, Madam, I am quite sure. But she is often very gay and quick of
wit, and makes us laugh, even when we are tired and hot after a day's
march and are waiting for our women; and sometimes she sings strange
old Norman songs of Duke William's day, very sweetly, and little Saxon
slave songs which we cannot understand."
"I have never heard her laugh nor sing, I think," said Eleanor,
thoughtfully.
"She is very grave before your Grace.
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