Riding eagerly to the bridge-foot, he scanned its length. But he saw no sign of Aliva's retreating figure in the fast-falling twilight, and heard no sound save the swirl of the rushing river as it swept beneath the arches.
Had she escaped him?
Leaving one of his men to guard the bridge, he proceeded to search the cottages round. But from the trembling peasants he could only gather that they had indeed seen a lady, in soiled and damp clothing, pass down the village.
But as he was thus cross-questioning and searching, he was approached by a personage clad in ecclesiastical garb. He was a coarse-looking individual, the expression of whose features showed a mixture of greed and cunning.
"William de Breauté," he asked, "thou seekest a bird? Shall I show thee the nest where that bird is hidden?"
"If thou meanest that thou canst tell whither the lady has escaped who but now made her way through the village," replied De Breauté, not much relishing the tone of familiarity in which he was addressed, "thou shalt be well rewarded if thou dost direct me thither. And understand," he added, trying to speak with dignity, "no harm is intended to the lady. It is simply needful for her own protection that I conduct her to my brother's castle at Bedford."
"Ay, in good sooth, all are in safe keeping there!" muttered the priest with a sneer, not brooking haughty patronage from a soldier of fortune. "But, perchance, my secret will remain with me, and she will not take the road to Bedford."
William de Breauté saw that he was not going the right way to work, and altered his tone. He had a shrewd guess that a bribe would both be expected and received.
"Certes, reverend father," he replied, "but I mean a reward to Holy Church in the person of one of her ministers."
"Knightly sir," answered the priest, "we understand each other. I am but a minister, as you rightly say, and humblest, you would more rightly have said, of Holy Church. Whatever her ministers receive, it is really the Church who receiveth and benefiteth."