“Nay, nay, dame, stand back! Well, if you must needs have one of them, take this which is the clean one.”
“It is the other I crave—that which is red with his blood! Oh! joyful night when my lips have been wet with it! Now I can die in peace!”
“We must go, Aylward,” said Simon. “In another hour the dawn will have broken. In daytime a rat could not cross this island and pass unseen. Come, man, and at once!”
But Aylward was at the woman’s side. “Come with us, fair dame,” said he. “Surely we can, at least, take you from this island, and no such change can be for the worse.”
“Nay,” said she, “the saints in Heaven cannot help me now until they take me to my rest. There is no place for me in the world beyond, and all my friends were slain on the day I was taken. Leave me, brave men, and let me care for myself. Already it lightens in the east, and black will be your fate if you are taken. Go, and may the blessing of one who was once a holy nun go with you and guard you from danger!”
Sir Robert Knolles was pacing the deck in the early morning, when he heard the sound of oars, and there were his two night-birds climbing up the side.
“So, fellow,” said he, “have you had speech with the King of Sark?”
“Fair sir, I have seen him.”
“And he has paid his forfeit?”
“He has paid it, sir!”