CHAPTER VIII
TOO LATE
It was past three o'clock on this same day when Eve had drunk the milkand some hours after she began to dream, that Hugh de Cressi and hismen, safe and sound but weary, halted their tired horses at the door ofthe Preceptory of the Templars in Dunwich.
"Best go on to his worship the Mayor and serve the King's writ uponhim, master," grumbled Grey Dick as they rode up Middlegate Street. "Youwasted good time in a shooting bout at Windsor against my will, and nowyou'll waste more time in a talking match at Dunwich. And the sun growslow, and the Frenchmen may have heard and be on the wing, and who cansee to lay a shaft at night?"
"Nay, man," answered Hugh testily, "first I must know how she fares."
"The lady Eve will fare neither better nor worse for your knowing abouther, but one with whom you should talk may fare further, for doubtlesshis spies are out. But have your way and leave me to thank God that nowoman ever found a chance to clog my leg, perhaps because I was not bornan ass."
It is doubtful if Hugh heard these pungent and practical remarks, forere Dick had finished speaking them, he was off his horse, and hammeringat the Preceptory door. Some while passed before any answer came, forSir Andrew was walking in the garden beyond the church, in no happy mindbecause of certain rumours that had reached him, and the old nun Agnes,spying armed men and not knowing who they were, was afraid to open. Soit came about that fifteen minutes or more went by before at length Hughand his godsire stood face to face.
"How is Eve and where? Why is she not with you, Father?" he burst out.
"One question at a time, son, for whose safe return I thank God. I knownot how she is, and she is not with me because she is not here. She hasreturned to her father at Blythburgh."
"Why?" gasped Hugh. "You swore to keep her safe."
"Peace, and you shall learn," and as shortly as he could he told him.
"Is that all?" asked Hugh doubtfully, for he saw trouble in Sir Andrew'sface.
"Not quite, son. Only to-day I have learned that Acour and his folknever went to London, and are back again at Blythburgh Manor."
"So much the better, Father, for now I have the King's warrant addressedto the Mayor and all his Grace's subject in Dunwich, to take theseFrenchmen, living or dead."
"Ah! But I have learned also that her father holds Eve a prisoner,suffering her to speak with none, and--one lamb among those wolves--Oh!God! why didst Thou suffer my wisdom to fail me? Doubtless for some goodpurpose--where is my faith? Yet we must act. Hie, you there," he calledto one of the men-at-arms, "go to Master de Cressi's house and bid himmeet us by the market-cross mounted and armed, with all his sons andpeople. And, you, get out my horse. Mother Agnes, bring my armour,since I have no other squire! We'll go to the Mayor. Now, while I don myharness, tell me all that's passed, wasting no words."
Another half-hour almost had gone by before Hugh met his father, two ofhis brothers and some men riding into the market-place. They greeted inhaste but thankfulness, and something of the tale was told while theypassed on to the house of the Mayor, who, as they thought, had alreadybeen warned of their coming by messengers. But here disappointmentawaited them, for this officer, a man of wealth and honour, was, as itchanced, absent on a visit to Norwich, whence it was said that he wouldnot return for three full days.
"Now what shall we do?" asked Sir Andrew, his face falling. "It iscertain that the burgesses of Dunwich will not draw sword in an unknownquarrel, except upon the direct order of their chief, for there is notime to collect them and publish the King's warrant. It would seem thatwe must wait till to-morrow and prepare to-night."
"Not I," answered Hugh. "The warrant is to me as well as to the Mayor.I'll leave it with his clerk, which is good delivery, and away toBlythburgh Manor on the instant with any who will follow me, or withoutthem. Come, Dick, for night draws on and we've lost much time."
Now his father tried to dissuade him, but he would not listen, for thefear in his heart urged him forward. So the end of it was that the wholeparty of them--thirteen men in all, counting those that Master de Cressibrought, rode away across the heath to Blythburgh, though the horses ofHugh's party being very weary, not so fast as he could have wished.
Just as the sun sank they mounted the slope of the farther hill on thecrest of which stood the manor-house backed by winds.
"The drawbridge is down, thanks be to God!" said Sir Andrew, "whichshows that no attack is feared. I doubt me, son, we shall find Acourflown."
"That we shall know presently," answered Hugh.
"Now, dismount all and follow me."
They obeyed, though some of them who knew old Sir John's temper seemednot to like the business. Leaving two of their people with the horses,they crossed the bridge, thinking to themselves that the great houseseemed strangely silent and deserted. Now they were in the outer court,on one side of which stood the chapel, and still there was no one to beseen. Dick tapped Hugh upon the shoulder, pointing to a window of thischapel that lay in the shadow, through which came a faint glimmering oflight, as though tapers burned upon the altar.
"I think there's a burying yonder," he whispered, "at which all mengather."
Hugh blanched, for might it not be Eve whom they buried? But Sir Andrew,noting it, said:
"Nay, nay, Sir John was sick. Come, let us look."
The door of the chapel was open and they walked through it as quietlyas they could, to find the place, which was not very large, filled withpeople. Of these they took no heed, for the last rays of the sunlightflowing through the western window, showed them a scene that held theireyes.
A priest stood before the lighted altar holding his hands in benedictionover a pair who kneeled at its rail. One of these wore a red cloak downwhich her dark hair streamed. She leaned heavily against the rail, as aperson might who is faint with sleep or with the ardour of her orisons.It was Red Eve, no other!
At her side, clad in gleaming mail, kneeled a knight. Close by Eve stoodher father, looking at her with a troubled air, and behind the knightwere other knights and men-at-arms. In the little nave were all thepeople of the manor and with them those that dwelt around, every one ofthem intently watching the pair before the altar.
The priest perceived them at first just as the last word of the blessingpassed his lips.
"Why do armed strangers disturb God's house?" he asked in a warningvoice.
The knight at the altar rails sprang up and turned round. Hugh saw thatit was Acour, but even then he noted that the woman at his side, she whowore Eve's garment, never stirred from her knees.
Sir John Clavering glared down the chapel, and all the other peopleturned to look at them. Now Hugh and his company halted in the openspace where the nave joined the chancel, and said, answering the priest:
"I come hither with my companions bearing the warrant of the King toseize Edmund Acour, Count de Noyon, and convey him to London, thereto stand his trial on a charge of high treason toward his liege lord,Edward of England. Yield you, Sir Edmund Acour."
At these bold words the French knights and squires drew their swords andringed themselves round their captain, whereon Hugh and his party alsodrew their swords.
"Stay," cried old Sir Andrew in his ringing voice. "Let no blood be shedin the holy house of God. You men of Suffolk, know that you harbour afoul traitor in your bosoms, one who plots to deliver you to the French.Lift no hand on his behalf, lest on you also should fall the vengeanceof the King, who has issued his commands to all his officers and people,to seize Acour living or dead."
Now a silence fell upon the place, for none liked this talk of theKing's warrant, and in the midst of it Hugh asked:
"Do you yield, Sir Edmund Acour, or must we and the burgesses of Dunwichwho gather without seize you and your people?"
Acour turned and began to talk rapidly with the priest Nicholas, whilethe congregation stared at each other. Then Sir John Clavering, who allthis while had been listening like a man in a dream, suddenly steppedforward.
; "Hugh de Cressi," he said, "tell me, does the King's writ run againstJohn Clavering?"
"Nay," answered Hugh, "I told his Grace that you were an honest mandeceived by a knave."
"Then what do you, slayer of my son, in my house? Know that I have justmarried my daughter to this knight whom you name traitor, and thatI here defend him to the last who is now my kin. Begone and seekelsewhere, or stay and die."
"How have you married her?" asked Hugh in a hollow voice. "Not of herown will, surely? Rise, Eve, and tell us the truth."
Eve stirred. Resting her hands upon the altar rails, slowly she raisedherself to her feet and turned her white face toward him.
"Who spoke?" she said. "Was it Hugh that Acour swore is dead? Oh! wheream I? Hugh, Hugh, what passes?"
"Your honour, it seems, Eve. They say you are married to this traitor."
"I married, and in this red robe! Why, that betokens blood, as bloodthere must be if I am wed to any man save you," and she laughed, adreadful laugh.
"In the name of Christ," thundered old Sir Andrew, "tell me, JohnClavering, what means this play? Yonder woman is no willing wife. She'sdrugged or mad. Man, have you doctored your own daughter?"
"Doctored my daughter? I! I! Were you not a priest I'd tear out yourtongue for those words. She's married and of her own will. Else wouldshe have stood silent at this altar?"
"It shall be inquired of later," Hugh answered coldly. "Now yield you,Sir Edmund Acour, the King's business comes first."
"Nay," shouted Clavering, springing forward and drawing his sword; "inmy house my business comes first. Acour is my daughter's husband and soshall stay till death or Pope part them. Out of this, Hugh de Cressi,with all your accursed chapman tribe."
Hugh walked toward Acour, taking no heed. Then suddenly Sir John liftedhis sword and smote with all his strength. The blow caught Hugh onthe skull and down he fell, his mail clattering on the stones, and laystill. With a whine of rage, Grey Dick leapt at Clavering, drawing fromhis side the archer's axe he always wore. But old Sir Andrew caught andheld him in his arms.
"Vengeance is God's, not ours," he said. "Look!"
As he spoke Sir John began to sway to and fro. He let fall his murderingsword, he pressed his hands upon his heart, he threw them high. Thensuddenly his knees gave beneath him; he sank to the floor a huddled heapand sat there, resting against the altar rail over which his head hungbackward, open mouthed and eyed.
The last light of the sky went out, only that of the tapers remained.Eve, awake at last, sent up shriek after shriek; Sir Andrew bending overthe two fallen men, the murderer and the murdered, began to shrive themswiftly ere the last beat of life should have left their pulses. Hisfather, brothers, and Grey Dick clustered round Hugh and lifted him. Thefox-faced priest, Nicholas, whispered quick words into the ears of Acourand his knights. Acour nodded and took a step toward Eve, who just thenfell swooning and was grasped by Grey Dick with his left hand, for inhis right he still held the axe.
"No, no," hissed Nicholas, dragging Sir Edmund back, "life is more thanany woman." Then some one overset the tapers, so that the place wasplunged in gloom, and through it none saw Acour and his train creep outby the chancel door and hurry to their horses, which waited saddled inthe inner yard.
The frightened congregation fled from the nave with white faces, eachseeking his own place, or any other that was far from Blythburgh Manor.For did not their dead master's guilt cling to them, and would they notalso be held guilty of the murder of the King's officer, and swing forit from the gallows? So it came about that when at last lights werebrought Hugh's people found themselves alone.
"The Frenchmen have fled!" cried Grey Dick. "Follow me, men," and withmost of them he ran out and began to search the manor, till at lengththey found a woman who told them that thirty minutes gone Acour and allhis following had ridden through the back gates and vanished at fullgallop into the darkness of the woods.
With these tidings, Dick returned to the chapel.
"Master de Cressi," said Sir Andrew when he had heard it, "back withsome of your people to Dunwich and raise the burgesses, warning themthat the King's wrath will be great if these traitors escape the land.Send swift messengers to all the ports; discover where Acour ridesand follow him in force and if you come up with him, take him dead orliving. Stop not to talk, man, begone! Nay, bide here, Richard, andthose who rode with you to London, for Acour may return again and somemust be left to guard the lady Eve and your master, quick or dead."
De Cressi, his two sons and servants went, and presently were riding forDunwich faster than ever they rode before. But, as it proved, Acourwas too swift for them. When at length a messenger galloped into Lynn,whither they learned that he had fled, it was to find that his ship,which awaited him with sails hoisted, had cleared the port three hoursbefore, with a wind behind her which blew straight for Flanders.
"Ah!" said Grey Dick when he heard the news, "this is what comes ofwasting arrows upon targets which should have been saved for traitors'hearts! With those three hours of daylight in hand we'd have ringed therogues in or run them down. Well, the devil's will be done; he does butspare his own till a better day."
But when the King heard the news he was very wroth, not with Hugh deCressi, but with the burgesses of Dunwich, whose Mayor, although hewas blameless, lost his office over the matter. Nor was there any otherchosen afterward in his place, as those who read the records of thatancient port may discover for themselves.