“Softly, Mistress Mellis, or that priest fellow may hear you. A man would rather cut his tongue out than bring you such news.”
“And you were with him?”
“Why, we had just turned out of the ‘Cock’ Tavern. The fellow dodged out of a dark alley behind us, and the knife was in before you could think of an oath. The bloody rogue went off at a run. I stayed with your brother.”
There was silence for a moment—a tense silence.
“Did he die there—in the gutter?”
The words were like the limping movements of a wounded dog.
“He was dead,” said the man softly, “before the watch came along. There will be a crowner’s quest, but we can keep a secret—for your sake.”
“My sake! What does it matter? Oh, if I but knew!”
“And that?”
“Who struck that blow.”