else in these times?"

Now Hugh groaned aloud, his eyes closed, and he seemed as though he were
about to fall. Grey Dick, noting it, for a moment let go of the notary
and turned as though to help his master. Like a flash Basil drew a
dagger from under his dirty robe and struck at Dick's back. The blow was
well aimed, nor could an unprotected man on whom it fell have escaped
death. But although Basil did not see it because of Dick's long cloak,
beneath this cloak he wore the best of mail, and on that mail the
slender dagger broke, its point falling harmless to the ground. Next
instant Dick had him again in his iron grip. Paying no further heed to
Hugh, who had sunk to the floor a huddled heap, he began to speak into
the lawyer's ear in his slow, hissing voice.

"Devil," he said, "whether or no you murdered Red Eve and Sir Andrew
Arnold the saint, I cannot say for certain, though doubtless I shall
learn in time. At least a while ago you who had taken our money, strove
to murder both of us, or cause us to be torn in pieces upon yonder
square where the fires burned. Now, too, you have striven to murder me
with that bodkin of yours, not knowing, fool, that I am safe from all
men. Well, say your prayers, since you too journey to the plague pit,
for so the gatherers of the dead will think you died."

"Sir," gasped the terrified wretch, "spare me and I will speak----"

"More lies," hissed Dick into his ear. "Nay, go tell them to the father
of lies, for I have no time to waste in hearkening to them. Take your
pay, traitor!"

A few seconds later Basil lay dead upon the floor.

Grey Dick looked at him. Kneeling down, he thrust his hands into the
man's pockets, and took thence the gold that he had been hiding away
when they came upon him, no small sum as it chanced.

"Our own come back with interest," he said with one of his silent
laughs, "and we shall need monies for our faring. Why, here's a writing
also which may tell those who can read it something."

He cast it on the table, then turned to his master, who was awakening
from his swoon.

Dick helped him to his feet.

"What has passed?" asked Hugh in a hollow voice.

"Murgh!" answered Dick, pointing to the dead man on the floor.

"Have you killed him, friend?"

"Ay, sure enough, as he strove to kill me," and again he pointed, this
time to the broken dagger.

Hugh made no answer, only seeing the writing on the table, took it up,
and began to read like one who kno