There on the dark hillside glowed the red points of
light which marked the windows of the house which they sought. A
somber arched avenue of oak-trees led up to it, and then they were
in the moon-silvered clearing in front.
From the shadow of the arched door there sprang two rough
serving-men, bearded and gruff, great cudgels in their hands, to
ask them who they were and what their errand. The Lady Mary had
slipped from her horse and was advancing to the door, but they
rudely barred her way.
"Nay, nay, our master needs no more!" cried one, with a hoarse
laugh. "Stand back, mistress, whoever you be! The house is shut,
and our lord sees no guests to-night."
"Fellow," said Nigel, speaking low and clear, "stand back from us!
Our errand is with your master."
"Bethink you, my children," cried the old priest, "would it not be
best perchance, that I go in to him and see whether the voice of
the Church may not soften this hard heart? I fear bloodshed if
you enter."
"Nay, father, I pray you to stay here for the nonce," said Nigel.
"And you, Mary, do you bide with the good priest, for we know not
what may be within."
Again he turned to the door, and again the two men barred his
passage.
"Stand back, I say, back for your lives!" said Nigel. "By Saint
Paul! I should think it shame to soil my sword with such as you,
but my soul is set, and no man shall bar my path this night.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200