CHAPTER IV
THE PENANCE
The tale was done, and these two stood staring at one another from
each side of the glowing hearth, whose red light illumined their
faces. At length the heavy silence was broken by Sir Andrew.
"I read your heart, Hugh," he said, "as Murgh read mine, for I think
that he gave me not only strength, but something of his wisdom also,
whereby I was able to win safe back to England and to this hour to
walk unharmed by many a pit. I read your heart, and in its book is
written that you think me mad, one who pleases his old age with tales
of marvel that others told him, or which his own brain fashioned."
"Not so, Father," answered Hugh uneasily, for in truth some such
thoughts were passing through his mind. "Only--only the thing is very
strange, and it happened so long ago, before Eve and I were born,
before those that begot us were born either, perchance."
"Yes; more than fifty years ago--it may be sixty--I forget. In sixty
years the memory plays strange tricks with men, no doubt, so how can I
blame you if you believe--what you do believe? And yet, Hugh," he went
on after a pause, and speaking with passion, "this was no dream of
which I tell you. Why do you suppose that among all those that have
grown up about me I have chosen you out to love, you and your Eve? Not
because a chance made me your godsire and her my pupil. I say that
from your infancy your faces haunted me. Ay, and when you had turned
childhood's corner and once I met the pair of you walking hand in
hand, then of a sudden I knew that it was you two and no others whom
that god or devil had showed to me standing by the open grave upon the
banks of Blythe. I knew it of Dick the Archer also, and can I be
mistaken of such a man as that who has no fellow in England? But you
think I dreamed it all, and perhaps I should not have spoken, though
something made me speak. Well, in a day to come you may change your
mind, since whatever dangers threaten you will not die yet, Hugh. Tell
me now, what is this Frenchman like who would marry Eve? I have never
seen him."
Hugh, who was glad to get back to the things of earth, described Acour
as best he could.
"Ah!" said Sir Andrew. "Much such a man as stood face to face with you
by the grave while Murgh watched; and you are not likely to be
friends, are you? But I forgot. You have determined that it was but a
dream and now you are wondering how he who is called Gate of the Gods
in Cathay could come to Blythburgh. Well, I think that all the world
is his garden, given to him by God, but doubtless that's only another
face of my dream whereof we'll speak no more--at present. Now for your
troubles, which are no dream. Lie you down to sleep on the skin of
that striped beast. I killed it in Cathay--in my day of dreams, and
now it shall serve for yours, from which may the dead eyes of John
Clavering be absent! I go forth to seek your father and to arrange
certain matters. With Grey Dick at the door you'll be safe for a
while, I think. If not, here's a cupboard where you may hide." And,
drawing aside the arras, he showed him a certain secret place large
enough to hold a man, then left the room.
Hugh laid himself upon the skin of the beast, which had been a tiger,
though he did not know it by that name. So weary was he that not all
he had gone through that day or even the old warrior-priest's
marvellous tale, in which he and Eve played so wonderful a part, could
keep his eyes from closing. Presently he was fast asleep, and so
remained until, four hours later, something disturbed him, and he
awoke to see Sir Andrew writing at a desk.
"Rise, my son," said the old priest without looking up from his paper.
"Early as it is you must be stirring if you would be clear of Dunwich
by daybreak and keep a whole skin. I have set a taper in my sleeping-
closet yonder, and there you'll find water to wash with and a stool to
kneel on for your prayers, neither of which neglect, since you have
blood on your hands and great need for Heaven's help."
So Hugh arose, yawning, and stumbled heavily to the chamber, for he
was still faint with sleep, which would not leave him till he had
plunged his head into a basin of icy water. This done, he knelt and
prayed as he had been bidden, with a very earnest heart, and afterward
came back to the guest-hall.
Seeing folk gathered there as he entered he laid hand on sword, not
his own with which he had killed his cousin, but a long and knightly
weapon that Sir Andrew had given him with the armour. Drawing it, he
advanced boldly, for he thought that his enemies might have found him
out, and that his best safety lay in courage. Thus he appeared in the
ring of the lamplight clad in gleaming steel and with raised weapon.
"What, son!" asked a testy voice which he knew for that of his own
father, "is it not enough to have killed your cousin? Would you fall
on your brothers and me also, that you come at us clad in mail and
with bare steel in hand?"
Hearing these words Hugh sheathed the sword, and, advancing toward the
speaker, a handsome, portly man, who wore a merchant's robe lined with
rich fur, sank to his knee before him.
"Your pardon, my father," he said. "Sir Andrew here will have told you
the story; also that I am not to blame for this blood-shedding."
"I think you need to ask it," replied Master de Cressi, "and if you
and that lean henchman of yours are not to blame, then say who is?"
Now a tall, slim figure glided up to them. It was Eve, clothed in her
own robe again, and beautiful as ever after her short rest.
"Sir, I am to blame," she said in her full, low voice. "My need was
sore and I sent a messenger to Hugh bidding him meet me in the
Blythburgh Marsh. There we were set on, and there John Clavering, my
brother, smote Hugh in the face. Would you, a de Cressi, have had him
take the blow and yield me up to the Frenchman?"
"By God and my forefathers, no! least of all from one of your stock--
saving your presence," answered the merchant. "In truth, had he done
so, dead or living from that day I would have called him no son of
mine. Yet, Red Eve, you and he and your love-makings have brought much
trouble on me and my House. Look now what it means. A feud to the
death between our families of which no man can foresee the end.
Moreover, how can you marry, seeing that a brother's blood runs
between you?"
"It is on John's head," she answered sadly, "not on Hugh's hand. I
warned him, and Hugh spared him once. What more could we do?"
"I know not, Eve; I only know what you have done, you and Hugh and
Grey Dick. Four dead and two wounded, that's the bill I must discharge
as best I may. Doubtless too soon there will be more to follow,
whether they be Claverings or de Cressis. Well, we must take things as
God sends them, and leave Him to balance the account.
"But there is no time to lose if Hugh's neck is to escape a halter.
Speak you, Father Andrew, who are wise and old, and have this matter
in hand. Oh! Hugh, Hugh, you were born a fighter, not a merchant like
your brethren," and he pointed to three young men who all this while
had stood silently behind him looking upon their youngest brother with
grave disapproval. "Yes, the old Norman blood comes out in you, and
the Norman mail suits you well," he added with a flash of pride, "and
so there's an end--or a beginning. Now, Sir Andrew, speak."
"Master de Cressi," said the old priest, "your son Hugh rides to
London on an errand of mine which I think will save his neck from that
halter whereof you spoke but now. Are those four mounted men that you
promised me ready to companion him?"
"They will be within an hour, Father, but not before, since six good
horses cannot be laid hands on in the dead of night, being stabled
without the gates. But what is this message of yours, and to whom does
Hugh go?"
"To his Grace Edward the King, none less, Geoffrey de Cressi, with
that which shall earn pardon for him and Dick the Archer, or so I
believe. As for what it is I may not tell you or any man. It has to do
with great matters of State that are for the King's ear alone; and I
charge you, every one, on your honour and your safety, to make no
mention of this mission without these walls. Do you swear, Geoffrey de
Cressi, and you, his sons?"
Then one by one they swore to be secret as the grave; and Eve swore
also, though of her he had sought no promise. When this was finished
Sir Andrew asked if any of his brothers accompanied Hugh, saying that
if so they must arm.
"No," answered Master de Cressi, "one of the family is enough to risk
as well as four of our best servants. My sons bide here with me, who
may need their help, though they are not trained to arms."
"Perhaps it is as well," said Sir Andrew drily, "though were I their
age--well, let that be. Now, son Hugh, before you eat do you and Eve
come with me into the church."
At these words Hugh flushed red with joy, and opened his lips to
speak.
"Nay, nay," broke in Sir Andrew, with a frown; "for a different
purpose to that which is in your mind. Man, is this a time for
marrying and giving in marriage? And if it were, could I marry you who
are stained with new-shed blood? 'Tis that you both may be absolved
from the guilt of that blood and learn the penance which God decrees
to you through the mouth of me, His unworthy minister, in payment of
its shedding. Thus you, son, may go forth upon your great adventure
with a clean heart, and you, daughter, may await what shall befall
with a quiet mind. Say, are you willing?"
Now they bowed their heads and answered that they were, though Eve
whispered to Hugh that she misdoubted her of this talk of penance.
"So do I," he replied, beneath his breath, "but he is a merciful
confessor and loves us. From some it might be harder."
They passed down the stairs, followed by Master de Cressi and his
sons, into the entrance hall, where Grey Dick stood watching by the
door.
"Whither go they?" he asked of Sir Andrew, "for their road is mine."
"To confession at God's altar," answered the old priest. "Do you come
also, Richard?"
"Oh!" he replied, "I hoped it had been to breakfast. As for confession
I have naught upon my soul save that I shot too low at the Frenchman."
"Bide where you are, O man of blood," said Sir Andrew sternly: "and
pray that a better mood be given to you before it is too late."
"Ay, Father," he answered unabashed. "I'll pray, and it is as well
that one should wait to watch the door lest you should all presently
become men of blood against your will."
Turning to the right, Sir Andrew led them down steps to a passage
underground that joined the Temple to the Church of the Holy Virgin
and St. John. It was but short, and at the end of it they found a
massive door which he unbolted, and, passing this door, entered the
great building, whereof the silence and the icy cold struck them like
blows. They had but two lanterns between them, one of which Master de
Cressi and his elder sons took with them to the nave of the church.
Bearing the other, Sir Andrew departed into the vestry, leaving Hugh
and Eve seated together in the darkness of the chancel stalls.
Presently his light reappeared in the confessional, where he sat
robed, and thither at his summons went first Hugh and then Eve. When
their tales were told, those who watched in the nave of the splendid
building--which, reared by the Knights Templar, was already following
that great Order to decay and ruin--saw the star of light he bore
ascend to the high altar. Here he set it down, and, advancing to the
rail, addressed the two shadowy figures that knelt before him.
"Son and daughter," he said, "you have made confession with contrite
hearts, and the Church has given you absolution for your sins. Yet
penance remains, and because those sins, though grievous in
themselves, were not altogether of your own making, it shall be light.
Hugh de Cressi and Eve Clavering, who are bound together by lawful
love between man and woman and the solemn oath of betrothal which you
here renew before God, this is the penance that I lay upon you by
virtue of the authority in me vested as a priest of Christ: Because
between you runs the blood of John Clavering, the cousin of one of you
and the brother of the other, slain by you, Hugh de Cressi, in mortal
combat but yester eve, I decree and enjoin that for a full year from
this day you shall not be bound together as man and wife in the holy
bonds of matrimony, nor converse after the fashion of affianced
lovers. If you obey this her command, faithfully, then by my mouth the
Church declares that after the year has gone by you may lawfully be
wed where and when you will. Moreover, she pronounces her solemn
blessing on you both and her dreadful curse upon any and upon all who
shall dare to sunder you against your desires, and of this blessing
and this curse let all the congregation take notice."
Now Hugh and Eve rose and vanished into the darkness. When they had
gone the priest celebrated a short mass, but two or three prayers and
a blessing, which done, all of them returned to the Preceptory as they
had come.
Here food was waiting for them, prepared by the old Sister Agnes. It
was a somewhat silent meal of which no one ate very much except Grey
Dick, who remarked aloud that as this might be his last breakfast it
should be plentiful, since, shriven or unshriven, it was better to die
upon a full stomach.
Master de Cressi called him an impious knave. Then he asked him if he
had plenty of arrows, because if not he would find four dozen of the
best that could be made in Norwich done up in a cloak on the grey
horse he was to ride, and a spare bow also.
"I thank you for the arrows, Master, but as for the bow, I use none
but my own, the black bow which the sea brought to me and death alone
shall part from me. Perchance both will be wanted, since the
Claverings will scarcely let us out of the sanctuary if they can help
it. Still, it is true they may not know where we lie hid, and that is
our best chance of eating more good breakfasts this side the grave."
"A pest on your evil talk," said de Cressi with an uneasy laugh, for
he loved Hugh best of all his sons and was afraid of him. "Get through
safely, man, and though I like not your grim face and bloody ways you
shall lose little by it. I promise you," he added in a whisper, "that
if you bring my boy safe home again, you shall not want for all your
life; ay, and if there is need, I'll pay your blood-scot for you."
"Thank you, master, thank you. I'll remember, and for my part promise
you this, that if he does not return safe, Dick the Archer never will.
But I think I'll live to shoot more than your four dozen of arrows."
As he spoke there came a knock upon the outer door and every one
sprang up.
"Fear not," said Sir Andrew; "doubtless it will be the men with the
horses. I'll go look. Come you with me, Richard."
Presently he returned, saying that it was so, and that Master de
Cressi's servants were waiting with the beasts in the courtyard. Also
that they brought tidings that some of the Clavering party were now at
the Mayor's house, rousing him from his sleep, doubtless to lay
information of the slayings and ask for warrant to take those who
wrought them, should they be in the borough.
"Then we had best be going," said Hugh, "since soon they will be here
with or without their warrant."
"Ay," answered Sir Andrew. "Here are the papers. Take them, Hugh, and
hide them well; and if any accident should befall you, try to pass
them on to Richard that they may be delivered into the King's hands at
Westminster. Say that Sir Andrew Arnold sends you on business that has
to do with his Grace's safety, and neither of you will be refused a
hearing. Then act as he may command you, and maybe ere long we shall
see you back at Dunwich pardoned."
"I think it is the Claverings and their French lord who need pardon,
not I," said Hugh. "But be that as it may, what of Eve?"
"Fear not for Eve, son, for here she bides in sanctuary until the
Frenchman is out of England, or perchance," he added grimly, "under
English soil."
"Ay, ay, we'll guard the maid," broke in Master de Cressi. "Come! to
saddle ere you be trapped."
So they descended to a back entrance, and through it into the
courtyard, where the four armed men waited with six good horses, one
of them Hugh's own. Here he bade farewell to his brothers, to his
father, who kissed him on the brow, and to Sir Andrew, who stretched
his hand above his head in blessing. Then he turned to Eve and was
about to embrace her even before that company, when Sir Andrew looked
at him, and, remembering the penance that had been laid upon him, he
but pressed her hand, whispering:
"God be with you, sweetheart!"
"He is with us all, but I would that you could be with me also," she
answered in the same low voice. "Still, man must forth to battle and
woman must wait and watch, for that is the world's way. Whate'er
befalls, remember that dead or living I'll be wife to no man but you.
Begone now ere my heart fails me, and guard yourself well, remembering
that you bear in your breast not one life, but two."
Then Hugh swung himself to the saddle of which Grey Dick had already
tested the girths and stirrup leathers. In another minute the six of
them were clattering over the stones of Middlegate Street, while the
burgesses of Dunwich peeped from their window places, wondering what
knight with armed men rode through their town thus early.
Just as the grey dawn broke they passed the gate, which, there being
peace in the land, was already open. Fifteen minutes later they were
on the lonely Westleton Heath, where for a while naught was to be
heard save the scream of the curlew and the rush of the wings of the
wild-duck passing landward from the sea. Presently, however, another
sound reached their ears, that of horses galloping behind them. Grey
Dick pulled rein and listened.
"Seven, I think, not more," he said. "Now, master, do you stand or
run, for these will be Clavering horses?"
Hugh thought for a moment. His aim was not to fight, but to get
through to London. Yet if he fled the pursuers would raise the country
on them as they came, so that in the end they must be taken, since
those who followed would find fresh horses.
"It seems best to stand," he said.
"So say I," answered Grey Dick; and led the way to a little hillock by
the roadside on which grew some wind-bent firs.
Here they dismounted and gave their horses into the keeping of one
man, while Grey Dick and the others drew their bows from the cases and
strung them. Scarcely had they done so when the mist, lifting in the
morning breeze, showed them their pursuers--seven of them, as Dick had
said--headed by one of the French knights, and riding scattered,
between two and three hundred yards away. At the same moment a shout
told them that they had been seen.
"Hark now all!" said Hugh. "I would shed no more blood if it may be
so, who have earned enough of penance. Therefore shoot at the horses,
not at the riders, who without them will be helpless. And let no man
harm a Clavering unless it be to save his own life."
"Poor sport!" grunted Grey Dick.
Nevertheless, when the Norman knight who led came within two hundred
yards, shouting to them in French to surrender, Dick lifted his great
bow, drew and loosed carelessly, as though he shot at hazard, the
others holding their bows till the Claverings were nearer. Yet there
was little of hazard when Grey Dick shot, save to that at which he
aimed. Away rushed the arrow, rising high and, as it seemed, bearing
somewhat to the left of the knight. Yet when it drew near to that
knight the wind told on it and bent it inward, as he knew it would.
Fair and full it struck upon the horse's chest, piercing through to
the heart, so that down the poor beast came, throwing its rider to the
ground.
"A good shot enough," grumbled Grey Dick. "Still, it is a shame to
slay nags of such a breed and let the rogues who ride them go."
But his companions only stared at him almost in awe, while the other
Clavering men rode on. Before they had covered fifty paces, again the
great bow twanged, and again a horse was seen to rear itself up,
shaking the rider from its back, and then plunge away to die. Now
Hugh's serving-men also lifted their bows, but Grey Dick hissed:
"Leave them to me! This is fine work, and you'd muddle it!"
Ere the words had ceased to echo another horse was down.
Then, as those who remained still came on, urged by the knight who ran
shouting behind them, all loosed, and though some arrows went wide,
the end of it was that ere they reached the little mound every
Clavering horse was dead or sore wounded, while on the heath stood or
lay seven helpless men.
"Now," said Grey Dick, "let us go and talk with these foot-soldiers."
So they went out, all of them, except he who had the horses, and Hugh
called aloud that the first man of the Claverings who lifted a bow or
drew a sword should die without mercy. And he pointed to Grey Dick,
who stood beside him, arrow on string.
The Claverings began to talk together excitedly.
"Throw down your weapons!" commanded Hugh.
Still they hesitated. Then, without further warning Dick sent an
artful arrow through the cap of one of them, lifting it from his head,
and instantly set another shaft to his string. After this, down went
the swords and bows.
"Daggers and knives, too, if it please you, masters!"
Then these followed.
Now Hugh spoke a word to his men, who, going to the dead and dying
horses, took from them the stirrup-leathers and bridle-reins and
therewith bound the Claverings back to back. But the French knight, in
acknowledgment of his rank, they trussed up by himself, having first
relieved him of his purse by way of fine. As it chanced, however, Hugh
turned and saw them in the act.
"God's truth! Would you make common thieves of us?" he said angrily.
"Their weapons and harness are ours by right of war, but I'll hunt the
man who steals their money out of my company."
So the purse was restored. When it was safe in the knight's pouch
again Hugh saluted him, begging his pardon that it should have been
touched.
"But how are you named, sir?" he added.
"Sir Pierre de la Roche is my name," replied the knight sadly, and in
French.
"Then, Sir Pierre de la Roche," said Hugh, "here you and your people
must bide until some come to set you free, which, as this place is
lonely and little crossed in winter, may be to-day or may be
to-morrow. When at length you get back to Blythburgh Manor, however,
or to Dunwich town, I trust it to your honour to declare that Hugh de
Cressi has dealt well with you. For whereas he might have slain you
every one, as you would have slain him and his if you could, he has
harmed no hair of your heads. As for your horses, these, to his
sorrow, he was obliged to kill lest they should be used to ride him
down. Will you do this of your courtesy?"
"Ay," answered the knight, "since to your gentleness we owe our lives.
But with your leave I will add that we were overcome not by men, but
by a devil"--and he nodded toward Grey Dick--"since no one who is only
man can have such hellish skill in archery as we saw yesterday, and
now again this morning. Moreover," he went on, contemplating Dick's
ashen hair and cold eyes set wide apart in the rocky face, like to
those of a Suffolk horse, "the man's air shows that he is in league
with Satan."
"I'll not render your words into our English talk, Sir Pierre,"
replied Hugh, "lest he of whom you speak should take them amiss and
send you where you might learn them false. For know, had he been what
you say, the arrow that lies in your horse's heart would have nailed
the breastplate to your own. Now take a message from me to your lord,
Sir Edmund Acour, the traitor. Tell him that I shall return ere long,
and that if he should dare to attempt ill toward the Lady Eve, who is
my betrothed, or toward my father and brethren, or any of my House, I
promise, in Grey Dick's name and my own, to kill him or those who may
aid him as I would kill a forest wolf that had slunk into my
sheepfold. Farewell! There is bracken and furze yonder where you may
lie warm till some pass your way. Mount, men!"
So they rode forward, bearing all the Clavering weapons with them,
which a mile or two further on Grey Dick hid in an empty fox's earth
where he knew he could find them again. Only he kept the French
knight's beautiful dagger that was made of Spanish steel, inlaid with
gold, and used it to his life's end.
Here it may be told that it was not until thirty-six hours had gone
by, as Hugh learned afterward, that a countryman brought this knight
and his companions, more dead than alive, to Dunwich in his wain. As
he was travelling across Westleton Heath, with a load of corn to be
ground at the Dunwich mill, it seemed that he heard voices calling
feebly, and guided by them found these unhappy men half buried in the
snow that had fallen on that day, and so rescued them from death.
But when Sir Edmund Acour knew the story of their overthrow and of the
message that Hugh had sent to him, he raved at them, and especially at
Sir Pierre de la Roche, saying that the worst of young de Cressi's
crimes against him was that he had left such cowardly hounds alive
upon the earth. So he went on madly till Sir John Clavering checked
him, bidding him wait to revile these men until he, and not his horse,
had met Grey Dick's arrows and Hugh de Cressi's sword.
"For," he added, "it may happen then that you will fare no better than
they have done, or than did John, my son."
On the morning of the third day after they left Dunwich, having been
much delayed by foul weather and fouler roads, Hugh de Cressi and his
company came at length to London. They had suffered no further
adventure on their way for, though the times were rough and they met
many evil-looking fellows, none ventured to lift hand against six men
so well armed and sturdy. Guided by one of their number who had often
been to London on Master de Cressi's business, they rode straight to
Westminster. Having stabled their horses at an inn near by, and
cleaned the mire of the road from their mail and garments, they went
up to the palace, where Hugh told his errand to an officer whom he
found on duty at the gate.
"Then it is a fool's errand," said the captain, "seeing that his Grace
rode yesterday to his castle at Windsor to hunt and revel, and will be
gone eight days at the least."
"Then to Windsor I must follow," answered Hugh.
