sacked it this stately hall could scarce have seemed more
ruined.

Hugh and Dick crossed it to a stairway of chestnut wood whereof every
newel-post was surmounted by the crest of a swan, and searched the
saloons above, where also there was wreck and ruin. Then, still mounting
the stair, they came to the bed-chambers. From one of these they
retreated hastily, since on entering it hundreds of flies buzzing in a
corner advised them that something lay there which they did not wish to
see.

"Let us be going. I grow sick," exclaimed Hugh.

But Dick, who had the ears of a fox, held up his hand and said:

"Hark! I hear a voice."

Following the sound, he led his master down two long corridors that
ended in a chapel. There, lying before the altar, they found a man clad
in a filthy priest's robe, a dying man who still had the strength to cry
for help or mercy, although in truth he was wasted to a skeleton, since
the plague which had taken him was of the most lingering sort. Indeed,
little seemed to be left of him save his rolling eyes, prominent nose
and high cheekbones covered with yellow parchment that had been skin,
and a stubbly growth of unshaven hair.

Dick scanned him. Dick, who never forgot a face, then stepped forward
and said:

"So once more we meet in a chapel, Father Nicholas. Say, how has it
fared with you since you fled through the chancel door of that at
Blythburgh Manor? No, I forgot, that was not the last time we met. A man
in a yellow cap ripped off your mask in a by-street near the Place of
Arms one night and said something which it did not please you to hear."

"Water!" moaned Nicholas. "For Christ's sake give me water!"

"Why should I give you water in payment for your midnight steel yonder
in the narrow street? What kind of water was it that you gave Red Eve
far away at Blythburgh town?" asked Dick in his hissing voice which
sounded like that of an angry snake.

But Hugh, who could bear no more of it, ran down to the courtyard, where
he had seen a pitcher standing by a well, and brought water.

"Thank God that you have come again," said the wretched priest, as he
snatched at it, "for I cannot bear to die with this white-faced devil
glaring at me," and he pointed to Grey Dick, who leaned against the
chancel wall, his arms folded on his breast, smiling coldly.

Then he drank greedily, Hugh holding the pitcher to his lips, for his
wasted arms could not bear its weight.

"Now," said Hugh, when his