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“Yes?”

“You shall be rid of me before nightfall. I only ask for a day’s grace.”

She had turned and was looking down at him with solemn eyes.

“It will be days before you must stir,” she said. “Remember that I saw your wounds.”

“They are nothing.”

“Lord, I know otherwise. You will bide there on that bed.”

She spoke quietly enough, but Aymery looked up at her restlessly, watching the sunlight shining through her hair.

“I cannot lie here, Denise.”

“You are safe.”

“Too safe, perhaps; it is not of my own safety——”

He paused, but not before she had caught his meaning. The truth was difficult for Aymery to utter, and yet she honoured him for thinking of her honour.

“None but our friends come this way,” she answered.

He half rose in bed with the strong and generous passion that made his pale face shine on her out of the darkness of the cell.

“Mother of God, child, am I so selfish, and so blind! Do I not remember what you are, to all of us in these parts. If these dogs found me here! I would rather crawl on my hands and knees than tempt that chance.”