Aylward sat with a ghastly face, and his toes
curled with horror at the sight, for he was still new to scenes of
strife and his blood was too cold for such a deed. When Simon
rose he tossed something into his bag and sheathed his bloody
sword.
"Come, Samkin, our work is well done," said he.
"By my hilt, if I had known what it was I would have been less
ready to come with you," said the archer. "Could you not have
clapped a sword in his fist and let him take his chance in the
hall?"
"Nay, Samkin, if you had such memories as I, you would have wished
that he should die like a sheep and not like a man. What chance
did he give me when he had the power? And why should I treat him
better? But, Holy Virgin, what have we here?"
At the farther end of the table a woman was standing. An open
door behind her showed that she had come from the inner room of
the house. By her tall figure the comrades knew that she was the
same that they had already seen. Her face had once been fair, but
now was white and haggard with wild dark eyes full of a hopeless
terror and despair. Slowly she paced up the room, her gaze fixed
not upon the comrades, but upon the dreadful thing beneath the
table. Then as she stooped and was sure she burst into loud
laughter and clapped her hands.
"Who shall say there is no God?" she cried. "Who shall say that
prayer is unavailing? Great sir, brave sir, let me kiss that
conquering hand!"
"Nay, nay, dame, stand back! Well, if you must needs have one of
them, take this which is the clean one.
Pages:
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341