your bosoms, one who plots to deliver you to the French.
Lift no hand on his behalf, lest on you also should fall the vengeance
of the King, who has issued his commands to all his officers and people,
to seize Acour living or dead."

Now a silence fell upon the place, for none liked this talk of the
King's warrant, and in the midst of it Hugh asked:

"Do you yield, Sir Edmund Acour, or must we and the burgesses of Dunwich
who gather without seize you and your people?"

Acour turned and began to talk rapidly with the priest Nicholas, while
the congregation stared at each other. Then Sir John Clavering, who all
this while had been listening like a man in a dream, suddenly stepped
forward.

"Hugh de Cressi," he said, "tell me, does the King's writ run against
John Clavering?"

"Nay," answered Hugh, "I told his Grace that you were an honest man
deceived by a knave."

"Then what do you, slayer of my son, in my house? Know that I have just
married my daughter to this knight whom you name traitor, and that
I here defend him to the last who is now my kin. Begone and seek
elsewhere, or stay and die."

"How have you married her?" asked Hugh in a hollow voice. "Not of her
own will, surely? Rise, Eve, and tell us the truth."

Eve stirred. Resting her hands upon the altar rails, slowly she raised
herself to her feet and turned her white face toward him.

"Who spoke?" she said. "Was it Hugh that Acour swore is dead? Oh! where
am I? Hugh, Hugh, what passes?"

"Your honour, it seems, Eve. They say you are married to this traitor."

"I married, and in this red robe! Why, that betokens blood, as blood
there must be if I am wed to any man save you," and she laughed, a
dreadful laugh.

"In the name of Christ," thundered old Sir Andrew, "tell me, John
Clavering, what means this play? Yonder woman is no willing wife. She's
drugged or mad. Man, have you doctored your own daughter?"

"Doctored my daughter? I! I! Were you not a priest I'd tear out your
tongue for those words. She's married and of her own will. Else would
she have stood silent at this altar?"

"It shall be inquired of later," Hugh answered coldly. "Now yield you,
Sir Edmund Acour, the King's business comes first."

"Nay," shouted Clavering, springing forward and drawing his sword; "in
my house my business comes first. Acour is my daughter's husband and so
shall stay till death or Pope part them. Out of this, Hugh de Cressi,
with all your accursed chapman tribe