At least that shortening of the breath of
which he had spoken seemed to take a hold of him, for he swayed upon his
horse as though he were about to fall, then, recovering, turned and rode
straight for Blythburgh.
It was the second night after that day when Sir Andrew had looked John
Clavering in the eyes.
Secretly and in darkness those three whom Grey Dick had killed were
borne into the nave of Blythburgh church and there laid in the grave
which had been made ready for them. Till now their corpses had been kept
above ground in the hope that the body of John Clavering the younger
might be added to their number. But search as they would upon seashore
and river-bank, nothing of him was ever seen again. This funeral was
celebrated in the darkness, since neither Sir John nor Acour desired
that all men should see three bodies that had been slain by one archer,
aided by a merchant's lad, standing alone against a score, and know, to
say naught of the wounded, that there was yet another to be added to
the tale. Therefore they interred them by night with no notice of the
ceremony.
It was a melancholy scene. The nave of the great church, lighted only
with the torches borne by the six monks of the black Augustines from the
neighbouring priory of St. Osyth; the candles, little stars of light,
burning far away upon the altar; the bearers of the household of the
Claverings and the uncoffined corpses lying on their biers by the edge
of the yawning graves; the mourners in their mail; the low voice of the
celebrating priest, a Frenchman, Father Nicholas, chaplain to Acour, who
hurried through the Latin service as though he wished to be done with
it; the deep shadows of the groined roof whereon the rain pattered--such
were the features of this interment.
Pages:
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118