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Updated: May 25, 2025
"My need was sore and I sent a messenger to Hugh bidding him meet me in the Blythburgh Marsh. There we were set on, and there John Clavering, my brother, smote Hugh in the face. Would you, a de Cressi, have had him take the blow and yield me up to the Frenchman?" "By God and my forefathers, no! least of all from one of your stock saving your presence," answered the merchant.
So Sir Andrew sent out messengers who reported it to be true that Acour had ridden straight to London to see the King and then sail for Dover. Also they said that no Frenchmen were left at Blythburgh save those who would never leave the place again, and that Sir John Clavering lay sick in his bed at the manor. "God fights for us!" said Sir Andrew with a little laugh.
Why is she not with you, Father?" he burst out. "One question at a time, son, for whose safe return I thank God. I know not how she is, and she is not with me because she is not here. She has returned to her father at Blythburgh." "Why?" gasped Hugh. "You swore to keep her safe." "Peace, and you shall learn," and as shortly as he could he told him.
At least that shortening of the breath of which he had spoken seemed to take a hold of him, for he swayed upon his horse as though he were about to fall, then, recovering, turned and rode straight for Blythburgh. It was the second night after that day when Sir Andrew had looked John Clavering in the eyes.
"Was it at Blythburgh, in Suffolk, perchance?" asked Hugh. "Ay, at Blythburgh in Suffolk; but who are you that speak in English and know of Blythburgh in Suffolk?" "Oh!" cried Hugh, "what do you here, Sir Andrew Arnold?" The old man threw back his hood and stared at him. "Hugh de Cressi, by Christ's holy Name!" he exclaimed. "Yes, and Richard the archer, also.
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