“That remains to be seen,” muttered the King.
“Sire, Sir Edmund Acour, who has lands here in Suffolk, Count de Noyon in Normandy, and Seigneur of Cattrina in Italy——”
“I know the man,” exclaimed Edward to the Queen, “and so do you. A handsome knight and a pleasant, but one of whom I have always misdoubted me.”
“—Is also enamoured of Eve Clavering, and with her father’s will seeks to make her his wife, though she hates him, and by the charter of Dunwich, of which she is a citizen, has the right to wed whom she will.”
“It is well there are not many such charters. The old story—brave men done to death for the sake of a woman who is rightly named Red Eve,” mused the King.
“My Liege, I pray that you will read the letter herein enclosed. Hugh de Cressi will tell you how it came to my hand, since I lack time to write all the story. If it seems good to your Grace, I pray you scotch this snake while he is in your garden, lest he should live to sting you when you walk abroad. If it please you to give your royal warrant to the bearer of this letter, and to address the same to such of your subjects in Dunwich as you may think good, I doubt not but that men can be found to execute the same. Thus would a great and traitorous plot be brought to nothing, to your own glory and the discomfiture of your foes in France, who hope to lay their murderous hands upon the throne of England. “Your humble servant and subject,
“Andrew Arnold.”
“What’s this?” exclaimed the King starting from his seat. “To lay hands upon the throne of England! Quick with the other letter, man!”
“I was charged that it is for your Grace’s eye alone,” said Hugh as he unfolded the paper. “Is it your pleasure that I read it aloud, if I can, for it is writ in French?”
“Give it me,” said the King. “Philippa, come help me with this crabbed stuff.”