questioned the men who sat round the
fire in the kitchen, for none sought their beds that night. From them I
learned that an hour or more before I met the Spaniard, a richly-dressed
stranger had been seen walking along the church-path, and that he had
tied his horse among some gorse and brambles on the top of the hill,
where he stood as though in doubt, till my mother came out, when he
descended and followed her. Also I learned that one of the men at work
in the garden, which is not more than three hundred paces from where
the deed was done, heard cries, but had taken no note of them, thinking
forsooth that it was but the play of some lover from Bungay and his
lass chasing each other through the woods, as to this hour it is their
fashion to do. Truly it seemed to me that day as though this parish of
Ditchingham were the very nursery of fools, of whom I was the first and
biggest, and indeed this same thought has struck me since concerning
other matters.

At length the morning came, and with it my father and brother, who
returned from Yarmouth on hired horses, for their own were spent. In the
afternoon also news followed them that the ships which had put to sea
on the track of the Spaniard had been driven back by bad weather, having
seen nothing of him.

Now I told all the story of my dealings with the murderer of my mother,
keeping nothing back, and I must bear my father's bitter anger because
knowing that my mother was in dread of a Spaniard, I had suffered my
reason to be led astray by my desire to win speech with my love. Nor did
I meet with any comfort from my brother Geoffrey, who was fierce against
me because he learned that I had not pleaded in vain with the maid whom
he desired for himself. But he said nothing of this reason. Also that no
drop might be lacking in my cup, Squire Bozard, who came with many other
neighbours to view the corpse and offer sympathy with my father in his
loss, told him at the same time that he took it ill that I should woo
his daughter against his wish, and that if I continued in this course it
would strain their ancient friendship. Thus I was hit on every side; by
sorrow for my mother whom I had loved tenderly, by longing for my dear
whom I might not see, by self-reproach because I had let the Spaniard
go when I held him fast, and by the anger of my father and my brother.
Indeed those days were so dark and bitter, for I was at the age when
shame and sorrow sting their sharpest, that I