“Tush!” I replied with affected carelessness. “Stolen, no doubt. Did I not say it was a privateer?”
“No doubt,” De Brito answered with a sneer. “And that white hand—was that stolen also?”
But my patience was fast vanishing. “Hark you!” I said sternly, fingering my sword hilt. “If you are wise you will not seek to meddle with my affairs. You have received your orders. Go!”
For a moment he stood facing me, a dark scowl upon his face. But he knew that I was the better swordsman and he had no stomach for a fight. Stifling an oath, he turned upon his heel and left the hut. I followed him through the door and watched him mount. When he had gathered up the reins preparatory to departing, he turned in his saddle and addressed me.
“Good-night to you, Captain Cassilis,” he cried mockingly. “I think I promised you once not to forget you. Well, ’tis a pleasant night for a ride, and Meriden lies but a mile or so out of my way!” Then in a sudden outburst of rage he shook his fist at me with a furious oath. The next moment he had set spurs to his horse, and I heard the beat of his hoofs die away upon the night.
CHAPTER XIV
OF THE HOME COMING OF HIS GRACE OF CLEEVE
For some moments I remained in the same attitude, staring fixedly in the direction in which he had disappeared, and pondering upon his words; then I retraced my steps to the hut. At the doorway I paused. The old man had left his position in my absence and was now kneeling by the earl’s side, apparently muttering something in his ear. Even as I gazed he put his two hands upon his breast and lightly shook him.
Then I entered. “What is it? What are you doing there?” I cried.
At the sound of my voice he turned his head towards me but he did not rise. “Aye, but ’tis a sad sight this,” he replied quaveringly. “There will be sorrow at the manor when this is known.”
“You say true, old man,” I answered grimly. “There will be sorrow there—sorrow indeed!”