“Go, Tristam, and bring more wood from the great pile in the courtyard,” said Hubert.
Tristam, a grizzled man-at-arms, went out.
All at once a cry of horror was heard. All started to their feet, but before they could run to Tristam’s aid the door was dashed open, and he ran in, his hair erect with horror, and his eyes starting from their sockets.
“It is after me!” he shrieked, as he slammed the door behind him.
“What was it?” said Hubert, while the sight of the man’s infectious terror sent a thrill through all of them.
But he couldn’t tell; he only stood and gibbered and shuddered, as if he had lost his senses, then crept to the innermost corner of the large fireplace, where they made room for him, and moaned like some wounded animal.
“The wood must be brought,” said Hubert. “We are not going to let the fire go out, nor to be frightened at shadows.
“Almeric, you will come with me and fetch it.”
“Yes, master,” said Almeric, not without a shudder, which did not promise well.
“Say a Pater and an Ave, Almeric. Sign thyself with the Cross. Now!”