"Ay, I think so. I think that is why the holy Sir Andrew showed it to
me, knowing something of our case, for he is my confessor when I can get
to him."

"Then, sweet, you are safe!" exclaimed Hugh, with a sigh of relief.

"Ay, so safe that to-morrow Father Nicholas, the French chaplain in his
train, has been warned to wed me to my lord Acour--that is, if I'm there
to wed."

"And if this Acour is here, I'll seek him out to-night and challenge
him, Eve," and Hugh laid hand upon his sword.

"Doubtless," she replied sarcastically, "Sir Edmund Acour, Count of
Noyon, Seigneur of Cattrina, will find it honour to accept the challenge
of Hugh de Cressi, the merchant's youngest son. Oh, Hugh, Hugh! are your
wits frozen like this winter marsh? Not thus can you save me."

The young man thought a while, staring at the ground and biting his
lips. Then he looked up suddenly and said:

"How much do you love me, Eve?"

With a slow smile, she opened her arms, and next moment they were
kissing each other as heartily as ever man and maid have kissed since
the world began, so heartily, indeed, that when at length she pushed him
from her, her lovely face was as red as the cloak she wore.

"You know well that I love you, to my sorrow and undoing," she said, in
a broken voice. "From childhood it has been so between us, and till the