Then she bent for a moment over Hugh, stretching out her hands above himas though in blessing, and departed as silently as she had come.
Three days went by before Hugh found his mind again, and after that fortwo weeks he was so feeble that he must lie quite still and scarcelytalk at all. Sir Andrew, who nursed him continually with the help ofGrey Dick, who brought his master possets, bow on back and axe at sidebut never opened his grim mouth, told his patient that Eve was safe andsound, but that he must not see her until he grew strong again.
So Hugh strove to grow strong, and, nature helping him, not in vain. Atlength there came a day when he might rise from his bed, and sit on abench in the pleasant spring sunshine by the open window. Walk hecould not, however, not only on account of his weakness, but because ofanother hurt, now discovered for the first time, which in the end gavehim more trouble than did the dreadful and dangerous blow of Clavering'ssword. It seemed that when he had fallen suddenly beneath that murderousstroke all his muscles relaxed as though he were dead, and his leftankle bent up under him, wrenching its sinews in such a fashion that forthe rest of his life he walked a little lame. Especially was this so inthe spring season, though whether because he had received his hurt atthat time or owing to the quality of the air none could ever tell him.
Yet on that happy day he thought little of these harms, who felt thelife-blood running once more strongly through his veins and who awaitedEve's long-promised advent. At length she came, stately, kind andbeautiful, for now her grief and terror had passed by, leaving her asshe was before her woes fell upon her. She came, and in Sir Andrew'spresence, for he would not leave them, the tale was told.
Hugh learned for the first time all the truth of her imprisonment and ofher shameful drugging. He learned of the burying of Sir John Claveringand of her naming as sole heiress to his great estates. To these,however, Acour had not been ashamed to submit some shadowy claim, made"in right of his lawful wife, Dame Eve Acour, Countess de Noyon," whichclaim had been sent by him from France addressed to "all whom it mightconcern." He learned of the King's wrath at the escape of this sameAcour, and of his Grace's seizure of that false knight's lands inSuffolk, which, however, proved to be so heavily mortgaged that no onewould grow rich upon them.
Lastly he learned that King Edward, in a letter written by one of hissecretaries to Sir Andrew Arnold and received only that morning, saidthat he held him, Hugh de Cressi, not to blame for Acour's escape. Itcommanded also that if he recovered from his wound, for the giving ofwhich Sir John Clavering should have paid sharply if he had lived, heand the archer, his servant, should join him either in England or inFrance, whither he purposed shortly to proceed with all his host. Butthe Mayor and men of Dunwich he did not hold free of blame.
The letter added, moreover, that the King was advised that Edmund Acouron reaching Normandy had openly thrown off his allegiance to the crownof England and there was engaged in raising forces to make war uponhim. Further, that this Acour alleged himself to be the lawfully marriedhusband of Eve Clavering, the heiress of Sir John Clavering, a pointupon which his Grace demanded information, since if this were truehe purposed to escheat the Clavering lands. With this brief and sternannouncement the letter ended.
"By God's mercy, Eve, tell me, are you this fellow's wife?" exclaimedHugh.
"Not so," she answered. "Can a woman who is Dunwich born be wed withoutconsent? And can a woman whose will is foully drugged out of her giveconsent to that which she hates? Why, if so there is no justice in theworld."
"'Tis a rare jewel in these evil days, daughter," said Sir Andrew witha sigh. "Still fret not yourself son Hugh. A full statement of the case,drawn by skilled clerks and testified to by many witnesses, has goneforward already to his Holiness the Pope, of which statement truecopies have been sent to the King and to the Bishops of Norwich andof Canterbury. Yet be warned that in such matters the law ecclesiasticmoves but slowly, and then only when its wheels are greased with gold."
"Well," answered Hugh with a fierce laugh, "there remains another lawwhich moves more swiftly and its wheels are greased with vengeance; thelaw of the sword. If you are married, Eve, I swear that before very longyou shall be widowed or I dead. I'll not let de Noyon slip a second timeeven if he stands before the holiest altar in Christendom."
"I'd have killed him in the chapel yonder," muttered Grey Dick, who hadentered with his master's food and not been sent away. "Only," he addedlooking reproachfully at Sir Andrew, "my hand was stayed by a certainholy priest's command to which, alack, I listened."
"And did well to listen, man, since otherwise by now you would beexcommunicate."
"I could mock at that," said Dick sullenly, "who make confession inmy own way, and do not wish to be married, and care not the worth ofa horseshoe nail how and where I am buried, provided those I hate areburied first."
"Richard Archer, graceless wight that you are," said Sir Andrew, "I sayyou stand in danger of your soul."
"Ay, Father, and so the Frenchman, Acour, stood in danger of his body.But you saved it, so perhaps if there is need at the last, you will doas much for my soul. If not it must take its chance," and snatching atthe dish-cover angrily, he turned and left the chamber.
"Well," commented Sir Andrew, shaking his head sadly, "if the fellow'sheart is hard it is honest, so may he be forgiven who has something toforgive like the rest of us. Now hearken to me, son and daughter. Wrong,grievous and dreadful, has been done to you both. Yet, until death orthe Church levels it, a wall that you may not climb stands between you,and when you meet it must be as friends--no more."
"Now I begin to wish that I had learned in Grey Dick's school," saidHugh. But whatever she thought, Eve set her lips and said nothing.