Part 8 (1/2)

Then one by one they swore to be secret as the grave; and Eve swore also, though of her he had sought no promise. When this was finished Sir Andrew asked if any of his brothers accompanied Hugh, saying that if so they must arm.

”No,” answered Master de Cressi, ”one of the family is enough to risk as well as four of our best servants. My sons bide here with me, who may need their help, though they are not trained to arms.”

”Perhaps it is as well,” said Sir Andrew drily, ”though were I their age--well, let that be. Now, son Hugh, before you eat do you and Eve come with me into the church.”

At these words Hugh flushed red with joy, and opened his lips to speak.

”Nay, nay,” broke in Sir Andrew, with a frown; ”for a different purpose to that which is in your mind. Man, is this a time for marrying and giving in marriage? And if it were, could I marry you who are stained with new-shed blood? 'Tis that you both may be absolved from the guilt of that blood and learn the penance which G.o.d decrees to you through the mouth of me, His unworthy minister, in payment of its shedding. Thus you, son, may go forth upon your great adventure with a clean heart, and you, daughter, may await what shall befall with a quiet mind. Say, are you willing?”

Now they bowed their heads and answered that they were, though Eve whispered to Hugh that she mis...o...b..ed her of this talk of penance.

”So do I,” he replied, beneath his breath, ”but he is a merciful confessor and loves us. From some it might be harder.”

They pa.s.sed down the stairs, followed by Master de Cressi and his sons, into the entrance hall, where Grey d.i.c.k stood watching by the door.

”Whither go they?” he asked of Sir Andrew, ”for their road is mine.”

”To confession at G.o.d's altar,” answered the old priest. ”Do you come also, Richard?”

”Oh!” he replied, ”I hoped it had been to breakfast. As for confession I have naught upon my soul save that I shot too low at the Frenchman.”

”Bide where you are, O man of blood,” said Sir Andrew sternly: ”and pray that a better mood be given to you before it is too late.”

”Ay, Father,” he answered unabashed. ”I'll pray, and it is as well that one should wait to watch the door lest you should all presently become men of blood against your will.”

Turning to the right, Sir Andrew led them down steps to a pa.s.sage underground that joined the Temple to the Church of the Holy Virgin and St. John. It was but short, and at the end of it they found a ma.s.sive door which he unbolted, and, pa.s.sing this door, entered the great building, whereof the silence and the icy cold struck them like blows.

They had but two lanterns between them, one of which Master de Cressi and his elder sons took with them to the nave of the church. Bearing the other, Sir Andrew departed into the vestry, leaving Hugh and Eve seated together in the darkness of the chancel stalls.

Presently his light reappeared in the confessional, where he sat robed, and thither at his summons went first Hugh and then Eve. When their tales were told, those who watched in the nave of the splendid building--which, reared by the Knights Templar, was already following that great Order to decay and ruin--saw the star of light he bore ascend to the high altar. Here he set it down, and, advancing to the rail, addressed the two shadowy figures that knelt before him.

”Son and daughter,” he said, ”you have made confession with contrite hearts, and the Church has given you absolution for your sins. Yet penance remains, and because those sins, though grievous in themselves, were not altogether of your own making, it shall be light. Hugh de Cressi and Eve Clavering, who are bound together by lawful love between man and woman and the solemn oath of betrothal which you here renew before G.o.d, this is the penance that I lay upon you by virtue of the authority in me vested as a priest of Christ: Because between you runs the blood of John Clavering, the cousin of one of you and the brother of the other, slain by you, Hugh de Cressi, in mortal combat but yester eve, I decree and enjoin that for a full year from this day you shall not be bound together as man and wife in the holy bonds of matrimony, nor converse after the fas.h.i.+on of affianced lovers. If you obey this her command, faithfully, then by my mouth the Church declares that after the year has gone by you may lawfully be wed where and when you will.

Moreover, she p.r.o.nounces her solemn blessing on you both and her dreadful curse upon any and upon all who shall dare to sunder you against your desires, and of this blessing and this curse let all the congregation take notice.”

Now Hugh and Eve rose and vanished into the darkness. When they had gone the priest celebrated a short ma.s.s, but two or three prayers and a blessing, which done, all of them returned to the Preceptory as they had come.

Here food was waiting for them, prepared by the old Sister Agnes. It was a somewhat silent meal of which no one ate very much except Grey d.i.c.k, who remarked aloud that as this might be his last breakfast it should be plentiful, since, shriven or unshriven, it was better to die upon a full stomach.

Master de Cressi called him an impious knave. Then he asked him if he had plenty of arrows, because if not he would find four dozen of the best that could be made in Norwich done up in a cloak on the grey horse he was to ride, and a spare bow also.

”I thank you for the arrows, Master, but as for the bow, I use none but my own, the black bow which the sea brought to me and death alone shall part from me. Perchance both will be wanted, since the Claverings will scarcely let us out of the sanctuary if they can help it. Still, it is true they may not know where we lie hid, and that is our best chance of eating more good breakfasts this side the grave.”

”A pest on your evil talk,” said de Cressi with an uneasy laugh, for he loved Hugh best of all his sons and was afraid of him. ”Get through safely, man, and though I like not your grim face and b.l.o.o.d.y ways you shall lose little by it. I promise you,” he added in a whisper, ”that if you bring my boy safe home again, you shall not want for all your life; ay, and if there is need, I'll pay your blood-scot for you.”

”Thank you, master, thank you. I'll remember, and for my part promise you this, that if he does not return safe, d.i.c.k the Archer never will.

But I think I'll live to shoot more than your four dozen of arrows.”

As he spoke there came a knock upon the outer door and every one sprang up.

”Fear not,” said Sir Andrew; ”doubtless it will be the men with the horses. I'll go look. Come you with me, Richard.”