"Noa, noa, my lord, not just that, but a new sort o' blood-spillin' invenshun that—"
"Save us!" shiveringly ejaculated the other maltster. "What if so be that 'tis a shadder, or some evil sperrit warnin' us of the wickedness of our ways, afore it be too late."
"Coward! white-livered loon!" savagely hissed Lord Howard. "What have we to do with shadows, who fear neither man nor—"
"Oh, oh! Hush, hush, my lord," interrupted a cringing unmelodious voice, "ye speak unadvisedly."
"So do you, Master Ferguson," wrathfully cried my lord, "as you'll find when we string up your lean crow's neck for you to Master Sheppard's sign yonder, if you don't keep your cant till we ask for it. Come, quick march."
Then with stealthy, but quick and measured tramp, the whole party passed on.
Cramped in every joint, for she had scarcely dared to draw breath, much less to stir, Ruth ventured now to raise one corner of her cloak, and peer after this strange company.
Strange guests for the "King's Arms."
One by one she saw their black figures disappear from the flood of yellow light upon the road, within the deep porch of the inn.
Dizzy and bewildered with what she had just witnessed, she staggered to her feet, clinging for support as she did so to the parapet. Her eyes, as she passed her hand across them to clear the mists that blinded them, caught a dim confused gleam of the object which had attracted the attention of the party. Within barely a dozen paces of where she stood, it lay; half way between the barge and the landing stage, forking and zig-zagging just under the sluggish movement of the water.