Unless Fate
should bring us together again, for as aught I know it may, I bid you
farewell forever. Would that I had never seen your face, but well are
you named Red Eve, who, like the false Helen in a story you have never
heard, were born to bring brave men to their deaths. Again farewell,
De Noyon.
"Who is this Helen?" asked Eve of Sir Andrew when the letter had been
read.
"A fair Grecian, daughter, over whom nations fought when the world was
young, because of her beauty."
"Ah, well! she did not make herself beautiful, did she? and, perchance,
was more sinned against than sinning, since women, having but one life
to live, must follow their own hearts. But this Helen has been dead
a long while, so let her rest, if rest she may. And now it seems that
Acour is away and that my father lies very sick. What shall I do? Return
to him?"
"First I will make sure that the Frenchman has gone, and then we will
see, daughter."
So Sir Andrew sent out messengers who reported it to be true that Acour
had ridden straight to London to see the King and then sail for Dover.
Also they said that no Frenchmen were left at Blythburgh save those who
would never leave the place again, and that Sir John Clavering lay sick
in his bed at the manor.
"God fights for us!" said Sir Andrew with a little laugh. "This Acour's
greeting at Court may be warmer than he thinks and at the least you and
Dunwich are well rid of him.
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