Red Eve eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 297 pages of information about Red Eve.

She sent away the food and bade the woman Mell bring her milk, for that would be easy to swallow and give her sustenance.  After some hours it came, Mell explaining that she had been obliged to send for it to the farmsteading, as none drank milk in the manor-house.  Being thirsty, Eve took the pitcher and drained it to the last drop, then threw it down, saying that the vessel was foul and made the milk taste ill.

The woman did not answer, only smiled a little as she left the chamber, and Eve wondered why she smiled.

A while later she grew very sleepy, and, as it seemed to her, had strange dreams in her sleep.  She dreamed of her childhood, when she and Hugh played together upon the Dunwich shore.  She dreamed of her mother, and thought dimly that she was warning her of something.  She heard voices about her and thought that they were calling her to be free.  Yes, and followed them readily enough, or so it seemed in her dream, followed them out of that hateful prison, for the bolts clanged behind her, down stairs and into the courtyard, where the sun’s light almost blinded her and the fresh air struck her hot brow like ice.  Then there were more voices, and people moving to and fro and the drone of a priest praying and a touch upon her hand from which she shrank.  And oh! she wished that dream were done, for it was long, long.  It wearied her, and grasped her heart with a cold clutch of fear.

CHAPTER VIII

TOO LATE

It was past three o’clock on this same day when Eve had drunk the milk and some hours after she began to dream, that Hugh de Cressi and his men, safe and sound but weary, halted their tired horses at the door of the Preceptory of the Templars in Dunwich.

“Best go on to his worship the Mayor and serve the King’s writ upon him, master,” grumbled Grey Dick as they rode up Middlegate Street.  “You wasted good time in a shooting bout at Windsor against my will, and now you’ll waste more time in a talking match at Dunwich.  And the sun grows low, and the Frenchmen may have heard and be on the wing, and who can see to lay a shaft at night?”

“Nay, man,” answered Hugh testily, “first I must know how she fares.”

“The lady Eve will fare neither better nor worse for your knowing about her, but one with whom you should talk may fare further, for doubtless his spies are out.  But have your way and leave me to thank God that no woman ever found a chance to clog my leg, perhaps because I was not born an ass.”

It is doubtful if Hugh heard these pungent and practical remarks, for ere Dick had finished speaking them, he was off his horse, and hammering at the Preceptory door.  Some while passed before any answer came, for Sir Andrew was walking in the garden beyond the church, in no happy mind because of certain rumours that had reached him, and the old nun Agnes, spying armed men and not knowing who they were, was afraid to open.  So it came about that fifteen minutes or more went by before at length Hugh and his godsire stood face to face.

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Red Eve from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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