Then there were more
voices, and people moving to and fro and the drone of a priest praying
and a touch upon her hand from which she shrank. And oh! she wished that
dream were done, for it was long, long. It wearied her, and grasped her
heart with a cold clutch of fear.
CHAPTER VIII
TOO LATE
It was past three o'clock on this same day when Eve had drunk the milk
and some hours after she began to dream, that Hugh de Cressi and his
men, safe and sound but weary, halted their tired horses at the door of
the Preceptory of the Templars in Dunwich.
"Best go on to his worship the Mayor and serve the King's writ upon
him, master," grumbled Grey Dick as they rode up Middlegate Street. "You
wasted good time in a shooting bout at Windsor against my will, and now
you'll waste more time in a talking match at Dunwich. And the sun grows
low, and the Frenchmen may have heard and be on the wing, and who can
see to lay a shaft at night?"
"Nay, man," answered Hugh testily, "first I must know how she fares."
"The lady Eve will fare neither better nor worse for your knowing about
her, but one with whom you should talk may fare further, for doubtless
his spies are out. But have your way and leave me to thank God that no
woman ever found a chance to clog my leg, perhaps because I was not born
an ass."
It is doubtful if Hugh heard these pungent and practical remarks, for
ere Dick had finished speaking them, he was off his horse, and hammering
at the Preceptory door.
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