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"Ay, and the old man who is called a sorcerer is dead. To me it was given to soothe his dying moments, and give him such Christian burial as men may have when there be no priest at hand to help them to their last rest. I was in time for that." "Peter Sanghurst dead!" mused John thoughtfully; and looking up at Raymond, he said quickly, "Did he know who and what thou wert?"
But the footsteps were approaching, were mounting the turret stair, and Joan, with a hasty movement, flung over her shoulders a sweeping supertunic lined with fur, which Peter Sanghurst had placed in the room for her use, but which she had not hitherto deigned to wear.
His revenues, much impoverished through the effects of the plague, made the question of expenditure the most pressing one of the hour; and the knight had come to Woodcrych with the distinct intention of prosecuting those studies in alchemy and magic which a year or two back he had altogether forsworn. Old Sanghurst was dead, he knew the devil had claimed one of his own.
Raymond could remember nothing save the vindictive threat of Peter Sanghurst, and Gaston was scarce disposed to put much faith in words, either good or bad, uttered by such a man as that. And now things began to press towards a climax in this memorable siege.
There be, nevertheless, some who say that this wrath is all assumed; that he has captured the lady, and holds her a prisoner in his hands, all the while pretending to know naught of her. I know not what truth there may be in such rumours. The Sanghurst bears an evil name, and many are the stories whispered about him."
When the day of battle came we rode side by side against the foe." Joan's interest was aroused. She knew Raymond well. She knew his nobility of nature his generous impulse to forgive a past foe, to bury all enmity. If Sanghurst had sought him with professions of contrition, might he not have easily been believed? And yet was such an one as this to be trusted?
Thou wilt but draw down upon thine own head a fearful fate, and she too shall suffer bitterly if thou failest to heed my words." And with a look of hatred and fury that seemed indeed to have something positively devilish in it, Sanghurst turned and strode away, leaving Raymond to make what he could of the vindictive threats launched at him.
But of Basildene no word was spoken then; for the shrewd Master Bernard had warned Raymond that the time had not yet come to prosecute that claim and indeed the neglected old house, crumbling to the dust and environed by an evil reputation which effectually kept all men away from it, seemed scarce worth the struggle it would cost to wrest it from the keeping of Peter Sanghurst.
Methinks that this same Peter Sanghurst was wooing Mistress Joan himself once. Sure I see another motive in his dastard capture of my brother. Perchance he had in him not only a rival for the lands of Basildene, but for the hand of the lady. Father, I see it all! Would that I had seen it before!
At the lower end of the hall, his hands bound behind him, and his person guarded by two strong troopers, stood Peter Sanghurst, his face a chalky-white colour, his eyes almost starting from his head with terror, all his old ease and assumption gone, the innate cowardice of his nature showing itself in every look and every gesture.
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