and after they had eaten took counsel together.

"Seeing that all three of us are still in health, as if there is
anything in the promises of Murgh we should remain, is it not time,
master," asked Grey Dick, "that we left this accursed Venice? Now that
Sir Geoffrey is gone, there is naught to keep us here."

"One thing I have to do first," answered Hugh, "and it is to learn
whether Sir Edmund Acour, lord of Cattrina, is dead or living, and if
living where he hides himself away. While Sir Geoffrey lay dying we
could not leave him to make search, but now it is otherwise."

"Ay, master, though I think you'll find the task hard in this hive of
pestilence and confusion."

"I have heard that the plague is at work in Cattrina's palace," broke
in David, "but when I asked whether he were there or no, none could tell
me. That is not a house where you'll be welcomed, Sir Hugh."

"Still I will make bold to knock at his doors to-morrow," answered Hugh.
"Now let us seek what we all need--sleep."

So on the following morning shortly after sunrise Hugh and Grey Dick,
guided by David, took boat and rowed through most fearful scenes and
sounds to the Palazzo Cattrina, a splendid but somewhat dilapidated
building situated in a part of the city that, like itself, had seen more
prosperous times. The great doors of the place set in a marble archway
stood half open. Over them were cut the cognizance of the floating swan,
and beneath, in letters of faded gold, the titles of Acour, de Noyon,
and Cattrina. No wonder they were open, since the porter's lodge was
occupied only by a grisly corpse that lay rotting on the floor, a heavy
key in its hand. The courtyard beyond was empty and so, save for a dead
horse, were the stables to the right. Passing up the steps of the hall
that also stood open, they entered.

Here the place was in confusion, as though those who dwelt there had
left in haste. The mouldering remains of a meal lay on the broad oak
table; a great dower-chest inlaid with ivory, but half filled with arms
and armour, stood wide. A silver crucifix that had hung above was torn
down and cast upon the floor, perchance by thieves who had found it too
heavy to bear away. The earthquake had thrown over a carved cabinet and
some bowls of glazed ware that stood upon it. These lay about shattered
amidst shields and swords thrown from the walls, where pictures of
saints or perchance of dead Cattrinas hung all awry. In short, if an
army had