ped. When they had risen again,
he said:

"You grieve that there is none to shrive us, master, but I hold
otherwise, since when it was told what company we kept last night
absolution might be lacking. This would weigh on you if not on me, who,
after what I have learned of Father Nicholas and others, love but one
priest, and he far away."

"Yet it is well to have the blessings of Holy Church ere such a business
as ours, Dick; that is, if it can be come by."

"Mayhap, master. But for my part I am content with that of Murgh, which
he gave us, you may remember, or so I understood him. Moreover, did he
not teach that he and all are but ministers of Him above? Therefore I go
straight to the head of the stair," and he nodded toward the sky. "I am
content to skip all those steps which are called priests and altars and
popes and saints and such-like folk, living or dead. If Murgh's wisdom
be true, as I think, these are but garnishings to the dish which can
well be spared by the hungry soul."

"That may be," Hugh answered dubiously, for his faith in such matters
was that of his time. "Yet were I you, Dick, I'd not preach that
philosophy too loud lest the priests and popes should have something to
say to it. The saints also, for aught I know, since I have always heard
that they love not to be left out of our account with heaven."

"Well, if so," answered Dick, "I'll quote St. Murgh to them, who is a
very fitting patron for an archer." Then once again he glanced at the
helm and the arrow with something not unlike fear in his cold eye.

Presently they went down to the eating chamber where they had been told
that breakfast would be ready for them at seven of the clock. There they
found Sir Geoffrey awaiting them.

"I trust that you have slept well, Sir Hugh," he said. "You were a wise
knight to go to rest so early, having before you such a trial of your
strength and manhood, and, so to speak, the honour of our King upon your
hands."

"Very well indeed; thank you, sir," answered Hugh. "And you?"

"Oh, ill, extremely ill. I do not know what is the matter with me or
Venice either, whereof the very air seems poisoned. Feel the heat and
see the haze! It is most unnatural. Moreover, although in your bed
doubtless you saw it not, a great ball of fire blazed and burnt over the
city last night. So bright was it that even in a darkened room each of
us could see the colour of the other's eyes. Later, too, as I watched at
the window,