ill-advisedly, for his boots were wet and dark with melted snow. He was bending his brows now and peering attentively at his three visitors, and when his gaze reached the boy, it halted and hung there. He was not sure. He shook his head a little, peered again, and pondered, frowning.
"You know the boy?" asked Hugh mildly. "He is Yves Hugonin, here seeking a lost sister. If you can help us, we shall be greatly relieved, both he and I. For I think you did not retreat from Callowleas alone. Caught in a tree along the woodland track that bears this way, we found this." He drew out the thimbleful of gilt thread that expanded to a filigree globe in the palm of his hand. "Do you know it?"
"Only too well!" said Evrard Boterei harshly, and closed, for an instant, large full eyelids over too-bright eyes. He opened them again to look directly at Yves. "You are the young brother? Forgive me that I could not be sure of you. I have not seen you but once, I think, since you were a child. Yes, this is hers."
"You brought her here with you," said Hugh, not questioning, stating. "Safe out of that attack."
"Yes - safe! Yes, I brought her here." There was a fine dew of sweat on Evrard's broad brow, but his eyes were wide open and clear.
"We have been in search of her and her companions," said Hugh, "ever since the sub-prior of Worcester came to Shrewsbury asking after them, since all trace of them had been lost after their flight. If she is here, send for her."
"She is not here," said Evrard heavily. "Nor do I know where she is. All these days between, either I or men of mine have been hunting for her." He set his long hands to the arms of his chair, and hauled himself shakily to his feet. "I will tell you!" he said.
He stalked about the room as he told them, a gaunt young man, filled with restless energy, but enfeebled by his days of sickness.
"I was a frequent and welcome guest in her father's house. This boy will know that is truth. She grew up in beauty, and I loved her. I did and do love her! Since she was orphaned I have ridden three times to Worcester to see her, and borne myself as I must to be admitted there, and never did I have any evil design on her, but intended to ask for her hand when I might. For her proper guardian now is her uncle, and he is in the Holy Land. All we could do was wait for his return. When I heard of the sack of Worcester all my prayer was that she should be escaped well out of it. I never thought of any gain to me, nor that she might be fled this way, until she sent her boy up from Cleeton ..."
"On which day was that?" demanded Hugh, cutting in sharply.
"On the second day of this month. Come by night, she said, and fetch me away, for I am here waiting for you. Never a word of any others along with her. I knew only what she told me, and I went as she asked, with a horse for her, and brought her away to Callowleas. She had taken me by surprise," he said, jerking up his head in defensive challenge, "but I wished of all things to wed her, and so did she me. And I brought her there, and used her with all honour, and with her consent I sent out to bring a priest to marry us. But the next night, before ever he reached us, we were all undone."
"I have seen the ruin they left," said Hugh. "From which direction did they come? In what numbers?"
"Too many for us! They were into the bailey and into the house before ever we knew what was happening. I cannot tell whether they came round the flank of the hill, or over the crests at us, for they broke in round half our stockade, ringing us from above and from the east. God knows I may have been too taken up with Ermina to set as strict a watch as I should have done, but there had been no warning, never a word until then of any such banditry in the land. It fell like lightning-stroke. Their numbers I can hardly guess, but surely as many as thirty, and well-armed. We were but half that, and caught easy and half-sleeping after supper. We did what we could - I came by
"You know the boy?" asked Hugh mildly. "He is Yves Hugonin, here seeking a lost sister. If you can help us, we shall be greatly relieved, both he and I. For I think you did not retreat from Callowleas alone. Caught in a tree along the woodland track that bears this way, we found this." He drew out the thimbleful of gilt thread that expanded to a filigree globe in the palm of his hand. "Do you know it?"
"Only too well!" said Evrard Boterei harshly, and closed, for an instant, large full eyelids over too-bright eyes. He opened them again to look directly at Yves. "You are the young brother? Forgive me that I could not be sure of you. I have not seen you but once, I think, since you were a child. Yes, this is hers."
"You brought her here with you," said Hugh, not questioning, stating. "Safe out of that attack."
"Yes - safe! Yes, I brought her here." There was a fine dew of sweat on Evrard's broad brow, but his eyes were wide open and clear.
"We have been in search of her and her companions," said Hugh, "ever since the sub-prior of Worcester came to Shrewsbury asking after them, since all trace of them had been lost after their flight. If she is here, send for her."
"She is not here," said Evrard heavily. "Nor do I know where she is. All these days between, either I or men of mine have been hunting for her." He set his long hands to the arms of his chair, and hauled himself shakily to his feet. "I will tell you!" he said.
He stalked about the room as he told them, a gaunt young man, filled with restless energy, but enfeebled by his days of sickness.
"I was a frequent and welcome guest in her father's house. This boy will know that is truth. She grew up in beauty, and I loved her. I did and do love her! Since she was orphaned I have ridden three times to Worcester to see her, and borne myself as I must to be admitted there, and never did I have any evil design on her, but intended to ask for her hand when I might. For her proper guardian now is her uncle, and he is in the Holy Land. All we could do was wait for his return. When I heard of the sack of Worcester all my prayer was that she should be escaped well out of it. I never thought of any gain to me, nor that she might be fled this way, until she sent her boy up from Cleeton ..."
"On which day was that?" demanded Hugh, cutting in sharply.
"On the second day of this month. Come by night, she said, and fetch me away, for I am here waiting for you. Never a word of any others along with her. I knew only what she told me, and I went as she asked, with a horse for her, and brought her away to Callowleas. She had taken me by surprise," he said, jerking up his head in defensive challenge, "but I wished of all things to wed her, and so did she me. And I brought her there, and used her with all honour, and with her consent I sent out to bring a priest to marry us. But the next night, before ever he reached us, we were all undone."
"I have seen the ruin they left," said Hugh. "From which direction did they come? In what numbers?"
"Too many for us! They were into the bailey and into the house before ever we knew what was happening. I cannot tell whether they came round the flank of the hill, or over the crests at us, for they broke in round half our stockade, ringing us from above and from the east. God knows I may have been too taken up with Ermina to set as strict a watch as I should have done, but there had been no warning, never a word until then of any such banditry in the land. It fell like lightning-stroke. Their numbers I can hardly guess, but surely as many as thirty, and well-armed. We were but half that, and caught easy and half-sleeping after supper. We did what we could - I came by
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