him, he who had never yet travelled
a hundred miles from the place where he was born, save once, when he
sailed on a trading voyage to Calais? As well might a hooded crow try to
match a peregrine that swooped to snatch away the dove from beneath its
claws. Yes, he, Hugh, was the grey crow, Eve was the dove whom he had
captured, and yonder shifty-eyed Count was the fleet, fierce peregrine
who soon would tear out his heart and bear the quarry far away. Hugh
shivered a little as the thought struck him, not with fear for himself,
but at the dread of that great and close bereavement.
The girl at his side felt the shiver, and her mind, quickened by
love and peril, guessed its purport. She said nothing, for words were
dangerous; only turning her beautiful face she pressed her lips upon
her lover's hand. It was her message to him; thereby, as he knew well,
humble as he might be, she acknowledged him her lord forever. I am with
you, said that kiss. Have no fear; in life or in death none shall divide
us. He looked at her with grateful eyes, and would have spoken had she
not placed her hand upon his mouth and pointed.
Acour was speaking in English, which he used with a strong French
accent.
"Well, we do not find your beautiful runaway, Sir John," he said, in a
clear and cultivated voice; "and although I am not vain, for my part
I cannot believe that she has come to such a place as this to meet a
merchant's clerk, she who should company with kings."
"Yet I fear it is so, Sir Edmund," answered Sir John Clavering, a stout,
dark man of middle age. "This girl of mine is very heady, as I give
warning you will find out when she is your wife. For years she has
set her fancy upon Hugh de Cressi; yes, since they were boy and girl
together, as I think, and while he lives I doubt she'll never change
it."
"While he lives--then why should he continue to live, Sir John?" asked
the Count indifferently. "Surely the world will not miss a chapman's
son!"
"The de Cressis are my kin, although I hate them, Sir Edmund. Also they
are rich and powerful, and have many friends in high places. If this
young man died by my command it would start a blood feud of which none
can tell the end, for, after all, he is nobly born."
"Then, Sir John, he shall die by mine. No, not at my own hands, since
I do not fight with traders. But I have those about me who are pretty
swordsmen and know how to pick a quarrel. Before a week is out there
will be a fune
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