“Ede, ye fond one, for all that he’s not thy husband! Th’ ’rt not his wife, and the child is a bastard. He hath a wife and children of his own rank, and bearing his name; and that’s Sir John Horseleigh of Clyfton Horseleigh, and not plain Jack, as you think him, and your lawful husband. The sacrament of marriage is no safeguard now-a-days. The king’s new-made headship of the Church hath led men to practise these tricks lightly.”
She had turned white. “That’s not true, Roger!” she said. “You are in liquor, my brother, and you know not what you say. Your seafaring years have taught ’ee bad things.”
“Edith—I’ve seen them; wife and family—all. How canst——”
They were sitting in the gathered darkness, and at that moment steps were heard without. “Go out this way,” she said. “It is my husband. He must not see thee in this mood. Get away till to-morrow, Roger, as you care for me.”
She pushed her brother through a door leading to the back stairs, and almost as soon as it was closed her visitor entered. Roger, however, did not retreat down the stairs; he stood and looked through the bobbin-hole. If the visitor turned out to be Sir John, he had determined to confront him.
It was the knight. She had struck a light on his entry, and he kissed the child, and took Edith tenderly by the shoulders, looking into her face.
“Something’s gone awry wi’ my dear,” he said. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
“Oh, Jack!” she cried. “I have heard such a fearsome rumor—what doth it mean? He who told me is my best friend. He must be deceived! But who deceived him, and why? Jack, I was just told that you had a wife living when you married me, and have her still!”