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.
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