Red Eve | Page 9

RIVER
For a while Hugh and Eve heard nothing, but Grey Dick's ears were
sharper than theirs, quick as these might be. About half a minute later,
however, they caught the sound of horses' hoofs ringing on the hard
earth, followed by that of voices and the crackle of breaking reeds.
Two of the speakers appeared and pulled up their horses near by in a
dry hollow that lay between them and the river bank. Peeping between
the reeds that grew about the mouth of the earth-dwelling, Eve saw
them.
"My father and the Frenchman," she whispered. "Look!" And she slid
back a little so that Hugh might see.
Peering through the stems of the undergrowth, set as it were in a little
frame against the red and ominous sky, the eyes of Hugh de Cressi fell
upon Sir Edmund Acour, a gallant, even a splendid-looking
knight--that was his first impression of him. Broad shouldered, graceful,
in age neither young nor old, clean featured, quick eyed, with a mobile
mouth and a little, square-cut beard, soft and languid voiced, black
haired, richly dressed in a fur robe, and mounted on a fine black horse,
such was the man.
Staring at Acour, and remembering that he, too, loved Red Eve, Hugh
grew suddenly ashamed. How could a mere merchant compare himself
with this magnificent lord, this high-bred, many-titled favourite of
courts and of fortune? How could he rival 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 funeral in Dunwich."
"I know nothing of your men, and do not want to hear of their quarrels,
past or future," said Sir John testily.
"Of course not," answered the Count. "I pray you, forget my words.
Name of God! what an accursed and ill-omened spot is this. I feel as
though I were standing by my own grave--it came upon me suddenly."
And he shivered and turned pale.
Dick lifted his bow, but Hugh knocked the arrow aside ere he could
loose it.
"To those who talk of death, death often draws