"While he lives--then why should he continue to live, Sir John?" asked
the Count indifferently. "Surely the world will not miss a chapman's
son!"

"The de Cressis are my kin, although I hate them, Sir Edmund. Also they
are rich and powerful, and have many friends in high places. If this
young man died by my command it would start a blood feud of which none
can tell the end, for, after all, he is nobly born."

"Then, Sir John, he shall die by mine. No, not at my own hands, since
I do not fight with traders. But I have those about me who are pretty
swordsmen and know how to pick a quarrel. Before a week is out there
will be a funeral in Dunwich."

"I know nothing of your men, and do not want to hear of their quarrels,
past or future," said Sir John testily.

"Of course not," answered the Count. "I pray you, forget my words. Name
of God! what an accursed and ill-omened spot is this. I feel as though
I were standing by my own grave--it came upon me suddenly." And he
shivered and turned pale.

Dick lifted his bow, but Hugh knocked the arrow aside ere he could loose
it.

"To those who talk of death, death often draws near," replied Clavering,
crossing himself, "though I find the place well enough, seeing the hour
and season."

"Do you--do you, Sir John? Look at that sky; look at the river beneath