What was
worse, or so thought Dick, his master Hugh had fallen into a very
similar mood. He stood there staring at the Man, while the Man stared
over or through him--at nothing in particular.
Grey Dick felt aggrieved. An arrow had burst to pieces unaccountably in
his bow, numbing his arm and wounding him on the chin, and now he was
outpaced at his own game of cold silence. He grew angry and dug David in
the ribs with his elbow.
"Tell that foreigner," he said, "that my master and I have saved his
life. Those Italian cut-throats have run away, and if he is a gentleman
he should say 'thank you.'"
David hesitated, whereon Dick gave him another dig, harder than the
first, and asked if he heard what he said. Then David obeyed, addressing
the Man as "Most Illustrious" as though he were the Doge, and ending
his speech with a humble apology in case he should have interrupted his
pious thanksgiving.
The Man seemed to awake. Taking no notice of Day, he addressed himself
to Dick, speaking in English and using just that dialect of it to which
he, Dick, had been accustomed from his childhood in the neighbourhood of
Dunwich. Not even the familiar Suffolk whine was forgotten.
"You and your master have saved my life, have you?" he said. "Well,
neighbour, why did you try to save my life by shooting at me with that
great black bow of yours, which I see is made of Eastern woods?" He
stared at the case in which it was now again hidden as though tanned
leather were no obstacle to his sight; then went on: "Do not answer:
I will tell you why.
Pages:
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243