"
"One thing I have to do first," answered Hugh, "and it is to learn
whether Sir Edmund Acour, lord of Cattrina, is dead or living, and if
living where he hides himself away. While Sir Geoffrey lay dying we
could not leave him to make search, but now it is otherwise."
"Ay, master, though I think you'll find the task hard in this hive of
pestilence and confusion."
"I have heard that the plague is at work in Cattrina's palace," broke
in David, "but when I asked whether he were there or no, none could tell
me. That is not a house where you'll be welcomed, Sir Hugh."
"Still I will make bold to knock at his doors to-morrow," answered Hugh.
"Now let us seek what we all need--sleep."
So on the following morning shortly after sunrise Hugh and Grey Dick,
guided by David, took boat and rowed through most fearful scenes and
sounds to the Palazzo Cattrina, a splendid but somewhat dilapidated
building situated in a part of the city that, like itself, had seen more
prosperous times. The great doors of the place set in a marble archway
stood half open. Over them were cut the cognizance of the floating swan,
and beneath, in letters of faded gold, the titles of Acour, de Noyon,
and Cattrina. No wonder they were open, since the porter's lodge was
occupied only by a grisly corpse that lay rotting on the floor, a heavy
key in its hand. The courtyard beyond was empty and so, save for a dead
horse, were the stables to the right.
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