they had brought a fresh curse from overseas. Even the horses that
they rode they took from a stable where they whinnied hungrily, none
being there to feed them, leaving in their place a writing of the debt.

Betwixt Yarmouth and Dunwich they had travelled through smitten towns
and villages, where a few wandered fearfully, distraught with sorrow or
seeking food. In the streets the very dogs lay dead and in the fields
they saw the carcasses of cattle dragged from the smokeless and deserted
steadings and half hidden in a winding-sheet of snow. For the Black
Plague spared neither man nor beast.

At the little port of Lowestoft they met a sullen sailorman who stood
staring at the beach whereon his fishing boat lay overturned and awash
for lack of hands to drag it out of reach of the angry sea. They asked
him if he knew of how it fared with Dunwich.

By way of answer he cursed them, adding:

"Must I be forever pestered as to Dunwich? This is the third time of
late that I have heard of Dunwich from wandering folk. Begone thither
and gather tidings for yourselves, which I hope will please you as well
as they do me."

"Now, if I were not in haste I would stay a while to teach you manners,
you foul-mouthed churl," muttered Grey Dick between his teeth.

"Let the fellow be," said Hugh wearily; "the men of Lowestoft have ever
hated those of Dunwich, and it seems that a common woe does not soften
hearts. Soon enough we shall learn the truth."

"Ay, you'll learn it soon enough," shouted the brute after them.
"Dunwich boats won't steel Lowestoft herrings for many a year!"

So they rode on through Kessland, which they reached as night was
closing in, through Benacre and Wrentham, also past houses in which none
seemed to dwell.

"Murgh has been here before us, I think," said Dick at length.

"Then I hope that we may overtake him," answered Hugh with a smile, "for
I need his tidings--or his rest. Oh! Dick, Dick," he added, "I wonder
has ever man borne a heavier burden for all this weary while? If I were
sure, it would not be so bad, for when earthly hope is done we may turn
to other comfort. But I'm not sure; Basil may have lied. The priest
by the pit could only swear to the red cloak, of which there are many,
though few be buried in them. And, Dick, there are worse things than
that. Perchance Acour got her after all."

"And perchance he didn't," answered Dick. "Well, fret on if you will;
the thing does not trouble me who for