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He said it in English, and few of those who heard him could understand. And after a moment Saint Aubyn, who was a very courteous gentleman for all his hot temper, made answer in the same tongue.

“If I cannot take your word, Pengersick,” said he, “be sure no searching will satisfy me. But that some of your men have made off with the goods, with or without your knowledge, I am convinced.”

“If they have–” my Master was beginning, when Godolphin’s sneering laugh broke in on his words from the other side of the gate.

“‘If!‘ ‘If!‘ There are too many if’s in this parley for my stomach. Look ye, Pengersick, will you give up the goods or no?”

Upon this my Master changed his tone. “As for Mr. Godolphin, I have this only to say: the goods are neither his nor mine; they are not in my keeping, nor do I believe them stolen by any of my men. For the words that have passed between us to-day, he knows me well enough to be sure I shall hold him to account, and that soon: and to that assurance commending him, I wish you both a very good day.”

So having said, he strolled off towards the stables, leaving me to listen at the gate, where by-and-by, after some disputing, I had the pleasure to hear our besiegers draw off and trot away towards Godolphin. Happening to take a glance upwards at the house-front, I caught sight of the strange lady at the window of the guest-chamber, which faced towards the south-east. She was leaning forth and gazing after them: but, hearing my Master’s footsteps as he came from the stables, she withdrew her eyes from the road and nodded down at him gaily.

But as he went indoors to join her at breakfast I ran after, and catching him in the porch, besought him to have his wound seen to. “And after that,” said I, “there is another wounded man who needs your attention. Unless you take his deposition quickly, I fear, sir, it may be too late.”

His eyebrows went up at this, but contracted again upon the twinge of his wound. “I will attend to him first,” said he shortly, and led the way to the strong room. “Hullo!” was his next word, as he came to the door–for in my perturbation and hurry I had forgotten to lock it.

“He is too weak to move,” I stammered, as my poor excuse.

“Nevertheless it was not well done,” he replied, pushing past me.

The prisoner lay on his pallet, gasping, with his eyes wide open in a rigor. “Take her away!” he panted. “Take her away! She has been here!”

“Hey?” I cried: but my Master turned on me sharply. To this day I know not how much of evil he suspected.

“I will summon you if I need you. For the present you will leave us here alone.”

Nor can I tell what passed between them for the next half-an-hour. Only that when he came forth my Master’s face was white and set beneath its dry smear of blood. Passing me, who waited at the end of the corridor, he said, but without meeting my eyes:

“Go to him. The end is near.”

I went to him. He lay pretty much as I had left him, in a kind of stupor; out of which, within the hour, he started suddenly and began to rave. Soon I had to send for a couple of our stablemen; and not too soon. For by this he was foaming at the mouth and gnashing, the man in him turned to beast and trying to bite, so that we were forced to strap him to his bed. I shall say no more of this, the most horrible sight of my life. The end came quietly, about six in the evening: and we buried the poor wretch that night in the orchard under the chapel wall.