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"Tell me, Aylward," said Alleyne, "what was amiss with the door of yonder inn that you should ask me to observe it." "Pardieu! yes, I had well-nigh forgot. What saw you on yonder door?" "I saw a square hole, through which doubtless the host may peep when he is not too sure of those who knock." "And saw you naught else?"
See to my gown, the third that I have befouled within the week. Woe worth me when Agatha the tire-woman sets eyes upon it!" "And what then, lady?" asked Alleyne. "Why, then away ran Troubadour, for belike I spurred him in falling, and Bertrand rode after him as hard as hoofs could bear him.
Alleyne, at his lord's right hand, found himself swept hither and thither in the desperate struggle, exchanging savage thrusts one instant with a Spanish cavalier, and the next torn away by the whirl of men and dashed up against some new antagonist.
Pass word to the men, Aylward, that they unsling their bows, for I have no doubt that there are some very worthy gentlemen yonder who may give us some opportunity for honorable advancement." "I hear that the prince hath the King of Navarre as hostage," said Alleyne, "and it is said that he hath sworn to put him to death if there be any attack upon us."
She had spoken with a rising voice, and a clasping and opening of her long white fingers, so that it was no marvel that ere the speech was over the skirts of Agatha were whisking round the door and the click of her sobs to be heard dying swiftly away down the corridor. Alleyne stared open-eyed at this tigress who had sprung so suddenly to his rescue.
The man felt that his position was bad enough. He had been obliged to offer an abject apology to Mr. Alleyne for his impertinence but he knew what a hornet's nest the office would be for him. He could remember the way in which Mr. Alleyne had hounded little Peake out of the office in order to make room for his own nephew.
The two who were on either side of Alleyne bent their bows as calmly as though they were shooting at the popinjay at the village fair. "Seven yards windage, Hal," said one, whose hair was streaked with gray. "Five," replied the other, letting loose his string. Alleyne gave a gulp in his throat, for the yellow streak seemed to pass through the man; but he still ran forward.
"And for thyself, Alleyne, if there be any dear friend to whom you would fain give greeting, I can send it for thee within this packet." "There is none," said Alleyne, sadly. "Have you no kinsfolk, then?" "None, save my brother." "Ha! I had forgotten that there was ill blood betwixt you. But are there none in all England who love thee?" "None that I dare say so." "And none whom you love?"
Alleyne stooped and kissed her, for the kiss was the common salutation of the age, and, as Erasmus long afterwards remarked, more used in England than in any other country. Yet it sent the blood to his temples again, and he wondered, as he turned away, what the Abbot Berghersh would have answered to so frank an invitation.
What make you of this upon the outer side?" "It is fairly and clearly written," Alleyne answered, "and it signifies To Sir Nigel Loring, Knight Constable of Twynham Castle, by the hand of Christopher, the servant of God at the Priory of Christchurch." "So I read it," said Sir Nigel. "Now I pray you to read what is set forth within."
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