She's married and of her own will. Else would
she have stood silent at this altar?"
"It shall be inquired of later," Hugh answered coldly. "Now yield you,
Sir Edmund Acour, the King's business comes first."
"Nay," shouted Clavering, springing forward and drawing his sword; "in
my house my business comes first. Acour is my daughter's husband and so
shall stay till death or Pope part them. Out of this, Hugh de Cressi,
with all your accursed chapman tribe."
Hugh walked toward Acour, taking no heed. Then suddenly Sir John lifted
his sword and smote with all his strength. The blow caught Hugh on
the skull and down he fell, his mail clattering on the stones, and lay
still. With a whine of rage, Grey Dick leapt at Clavering, drawing from
his side the archer's axe he always wore. But old Sir Andrew caught and
held him in his arms.
"Vengeance is God's, not ours," he said. "Look!"
As he spoke Sir John began to sway to and fro. He let fall his murdering
sword, he pressed his hands upon his heart, he threw them high. Then
suddenly his knees gave beneath him; he sank to the floor a huddled heap
and sat there, resting against the altar rail over which his head hung
backward, open mouthed and eyed.
The last light of the sky went out, only that of the tapers remained.
Eve, awake at last, sent up shriek after shriek; Sir Andrew bending over
the two fallen men, the murderer and the murdered, began to shrive them
swiftly ere the last beat of life should have left their pulses.
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