Where are they?"
"Taken, fair sir--gone!"
"And who hath dared to take them?"
"Alas! I know not. It was but for as long as you would say an
angelus that I left the chamber, and when I came back there was
the coffer, broken and empty, upon my table."
"Do you suspect no one?"
"There was a varlet who hath come with the last few days into my
employ. He is not to be found, and I have sent horsemen along
both the Udimore road and that to Rye, that they may seize him.
By the help of Saint Leonard they can scarce miss him, for one can
tell him a bow-shot off by his hair."
"Is it red?" asked Chandos eagerly. "Is it fox-red, and the man a
small man pocked with sun-spots, and very quick in his movements?"
"It is the man himself."
Chandos shook his clenched hand with annoyance, and then set off
swiftly down the street.
"It is Peter the Red Ferret once more!" said he. "I knew him of
old in France, where he has done us more harm than a company of
men-at-arms. He speaks English as he speaks French, and he is of
such daring and cunning that nothing is secret from him. In all
France there is no more dangerous man, for though he is a
gentleman of blood and coat-armor he takes the part of a spy,
because it hath the more danger and therefore the more honor."
"But, my fair lord," cried the Mayor, as he hurried along, keeping
pace with the long strides of the soldier, "I knew that you warned
me to take all care of the papers; but surely there was no matter
of great import in it? It was but to say what stores were to be
sent after you to Calais?"
"Is that not everything?" cried Chandos impatiently.
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