they asked at the inns whether a knight who bore the
name of Acour, or de Noyon, or Cattrina, was or had been a guest there,
but none whom they asked seemed to know anything of such a person.

They asked it of citizens, also of holy priests, good men who, careless
of their own lives, followed biers or cartloads of dead destined to the
plague pit or the river that they might pronounce over them the last
blessings of the Church. They asked it of physicians, some few of whom
still remained alive, as they hurried from house to house to administer
to the sick or dying. But all of these either did not answer at all or
else shrugged their shoulders and went on their melancholy business.
Only one of them called back that he had no time to waste in replying
to foolish questions, and that probably the knight they sought was dead
long ago or had fled from the city.

Another man, an officer of customs, who seemed half dazed with misery
and fear, said that he remembered the lord Cattrina entering Avignon
with a good many followers, since he himself had levied the customary
tolls on his company. As for how long it was ago he could not say, since
his recollection failed him--so much had happened since. So he bade them
farewell until they met in heaven, which, he added, doubtless would be
soon.

The evening drew on. Wearily enough they had trudged round the great
Roche des Doms, looking up at the huge palace of the Pope, where the
fires burned night and day and the guards watched at the shut gates,
that forbidden palace into which no man might enter. Leaving it, they
struck down a street that was new to them, which led toward their
borrowed dwelling of the Bride's Tower. This street was very empty save
for a few miserable creatures, some of whom lay dead or dying in the
gutters. Others lurked about in doorways or behind the pillars of
gates, probably for no good purpose. They heard the footsteps of a man
following them who seemed to keep in the shadow, but took no heed, since
they set him down as some wretched thief who would never dare to attack
three armed men. It did not occur to them that this was none other than
the notary Basil, clad in a new robe, who for purposes of his own was
spying upon their movements.

They came to a large, ruinous-looking house, of which the gateway
attracted Grey Dick's sharp eyes.

"What does that entrance remind you of, master?" he asked.

Hugh looked at it carelessly and answered:

"Why, of t