"Sir Knight," said Basil, recognizing Hugh, "should I, your faithful agent, be treated thus by this fierce-faced squire of yours?"
"That depends on what you have done, Sir Lawyer," answered Hugh, motioning to d.i.c.k to loose the man.
"All I have done, Sir Knight, is to follow you into a house where I chanced to see you enter, in order to give you some good tidings. Then this fellow caught me by the throat and said that if I dared to break in upon the privacy of one whom he called Red Eve and Lady Clavering, he would kill me."
"He had his orders, lawyer."
"Then, Sir Knight, he might have executed them less roughly. Had he but told me that you were alone with some lady, I should have understand and withdrawn for a while, although to do so would have been to let precious moments slip," and the lean-faced knave leered horribly.
"Cease your foul talk and state your business," interrupted Sir Andrew, thrusting himself in front of Hugh, who he feared would strike the fellow.
"And pray, who may you be?" asked the lawyer, glancing up at the tall figure that towered above him.
Sir Andrew threw back his hood, revealing his aged, hawk-like countenance, his dark and flashing eyes and his snow-white hair and beard.
"If you would learn, man," he said, in his great voice, "in the world I was known as Sir Andrew Arnold, one of the priors of the Order of the Templars, which is a name that you may have heard. But now that I have laid aside all worldly pomp and greatness, I am but Father Andrew, of Dunwich, in England."
"Yes, yes, I have heard the name; who has not?" said the lawyer humbly; "also you are here as guardian to the lady Eve Clavering, are you not, to lay a certain cause before his Holiness? Oh! do not start, all these matters came to my knowledge who am concerned in every great business in Avignon as the chief agent and procurator of the Papal Court, though it is true that this tiding has reached me only within the last few minutes and from the lips of your own people. Holy Father, I pray your pardon for breaking in upon you, which I did only because the matter is very pressing. Sir Hugh de Cressi here has a cause to lay before the Pope with which you may be acquainted. Well, for two days I have striven to win him an audience, and now through my sole influence, behold! "tis granted. See here," and he produced a parchment that purported to be signed by the Pope"s secretary and countersigned by a cardinal, and read:
""If the English knight, Sir Hugh de Cressi, and his squire, the captain Richard, will be in the chamber of audience at the palace at seven of the clock this evening" (that is, within something less than half an hour), "his Holiness will be pleased to receive them as a most special boon, having learned that the said Sir Hugh is a knight much in favour with his Grace of England, who appointed him his champion in a combat that was lately to be fought at Venice.""
"That"s true enough, though I know not how the Pope heard of it,"
interrupted Hugh.
"Through me, Sir Knight, for I learn everything. None have so much power in Avignon as I, although it often pleases me to seem poor and of no account. But let that pa.s.s. Either you must take this opportunity or be content not to see his Holiness at all. Orders have been issued because of the increase of this pest in Avignon, that from to-night forward none shall be admitted to the palace upon any pretext whatsoever; no, not even a king."
"Then I had best go," said Hugh.
"Ay," answered Sir Andrew, "and return here with your tidings as soon as may be. Yet," he added in a low voice to Grey d.i.c.k, "I love not the look of this scurvy guide of yours. Could not your master have found a better attorney?"
"Perhaps," answered d.i.c.k, "that is if one is left alive in Avignon.
Being in haste we took the first that came to hand, and it seems that he will serve our turn. At least, if he plays tricks, I promise it will be the worse for him," and he looked grimly at the rogue, who was talking to David Day and appeared to hear nothing.
So they went, and with them David, who had witnessed the confession of Father Nicholas. Therefore they thought it best that he should accompany them to testify to it if there were need.
"Bid my lady keep a good heart and say that I will be with her again ere long," said Hugh as they descended the stairs in haste.
Following the guidance of Basil, they turned first this way and then that, till soon in the gathering darkness they knew not where they were.
"What was the name of the street in which Sir Andrew had his lodging?"
asked Hugh, halting.
"Rue St. Benezet," answered Basil. "Forward, we have no time to lose."
"Did you tell Sir Andrew where we dwelt, master?" said d.i.c.k presently, "for I did not."
"By my faith, d.i.c.k, no; it slipped my mind."
"Then it will be hard for him to find us if he has need, master, in this rabbit warren of a town. Still that can"t be mended now. I wish we were clear of this business, for it seems to me that yon fellow is not leading us toward the palace. Almost am I minded----" and he looked at Basil, then checked himself.
Presently d.i.c.k wished it still more. Taking yet another turn they found themselves in an open square or garden that was surrounded by many mean houses. In this square great pest-fires burned, lighting it luridly. By the flare of them they saw that hundreds of people were gathered there listening to a mad-eyed friar who was preaching to them from the top of a wine-cart. As they drew near to the crowd through which Basil was leading them, Hugh heard the friar shouting:
"Men of Avignon, this pest which kills us is the work not of G.o.d, but of the Jew blasphemers and of the sorcerers who are in league with them. I tell you that two such sorcerers who pa.s.s as Englishmen are in your city now and have been consorting with the Jews, plotting your destruction.
One looks like a young knight, but the other has the face of Death himself, and both of them wrought murders in a neighbouring town to protect the Jews. Until you kill the accursed Jews this plague will never pa.s.s. You will die, every one of you, with your wives and children if you do not kill the Jews and their familiars."
Just then the man, rolling his wild eyes about, caught sight of Hugh and d.i.c.k.
"See!" he screamed. "There are the wizards who in Venice were seen in the company of the Enemy of Mankind. That good Christian, Basil, has brought them face to face with you, as he promised me that he would."
As he heard these words Hugh drew his sword and leapt at Basil. But the rogue was watching. With a yell of fear he threw himself among the crowd and there vanished.
"Out weapons, and back to back!" cried Hugh, "for we are snared."
So the three of them ranged themselves together facing outward. In front of them gleamed Grey d.i.c.k"s axe, Hugh"s sword and David"s great knife.
In a moment the furious mob was surging round them like the sea, howling, "Down with the foreign wizards! Kill the friends of the Jews!"
one solid wall of changing white faces.
A man struck at them with a halbert, but the blow fell short, for he was afraid to come too near. Grey d.i.c.k leapt forward, and in a moment was back again, leaving that man dead, smitten through from skull to chin.
For a while there was silence, since this sudden death gave them pause, and in it Hugh cried out:
"Are blameless men to be murdered thus? Have we no friends in Avignon?"
"Some," answered a voice from the outer shadow, though who spoke they could not see.
"Save the protectors of the Jews!" cried the voice again.
Then came a rush and a counter-rush. Fighting began around them in which they took no share. When it had pa.s.sed over them like a gust of wind, David Day was gone, killed or trodden down, as his companions thought.
"Now, master, we are alone," said Grey d.i.c.k. "Set your shoulders against mine and let us die a death that these dogs of Avignon will remember."
"Ay, ay!" answered Hugh. "But don"t overreach, d.i.c.k, "tis ever the archer"s fault."
The mob closed in on them, then rolled back like water from a rock, leaving some behind. Again they closed in and again rolled back.
"Bring bows!" they cried, widening out. "Bring bows and shoot them down."
"Ah!" gasped d.i.c.k, "that is a game two can play, now that I have arm room."
Almost before the words had left his lips the great black bow he bore was out and strung. Next instant the shafts began to rush, piercing all before them, till at the third arrow those in front of him melted away, save such as would stir no more. Only now missiles began to come in answer from this side and from that, although as yet none struck them.
"Unstring your bow, d.i.c.k, and let us charge," said Hugh. "We have no other chance save flight. They"ll pelt us under."
d.i.c.k did not seem to hear. At least he shot on as one who was not minded to die unavenged. An arrow whistled through Hugh"s cap, lifting it from his head, and another glanced from the mail on his shoulder. He ground his teeth with rage, for now none would come within reach of his long sword.
"Good-bye, friend d.i.c.k," he said. "I die charging," and with a cry of "A Cressi! A Cressi!" he sprang forward.
One leap and d.i.c.k was at his side, who had only bided to sheath his bow.
The mob in front melted away before the flash of the white sword and the gleam of the grey axe. Still they must have fallen, for their pursuers closed in behind them like hunting hounds when they view the quarry, and there were none to guard their backs. But once more the shrill voice cried: