seemed ashen-grey. Only in this cold, rocky face, set very far apart,
were two pale-blue eyes, which just now, when he chose to lift their
lids that generally kept near together, as though he were half asleep,
were full of fire and quick cunning.

Reaching the pair, this strange fellow dropped to his knee and raised
his cap to Eve, the great lady of the Claverings--Red Eve, as they
called her through that country-side. Then he spoke, in a low, husky
voice:

"They're coming, master! You and your mistress must to earth unless you
mean to face them in the open," and the pale eyes glittered as he tapped
his great black bow.

"Who are coming, Dick? Be plain, man!"

"Sir John Clavering, my lady's father; young John, my lady's brother;
the fine French lord who wears a white swan for a crest; three of the
nights, his companions; and six--no seven--men-at-arms. Also from the
other side of the grieve, Thomas of Kessland, and with him his marsh men
and verderers."

"And what are they coming for?" he asked again. "Have they hounds, and
hawk on wrist?"

"Nay, but they have swords and knife on thigh," and he let his pale eyes
fall on Eve.

"Oh, have done!" she broke in. "They come to take me, and I'll not be
taken! They come to kill you, and I'll not see you slain and live. I had