My husband returns in five days. I will then hand him the
letter and tell him your tale. Most grateful will he be for your good
service, and moved by your loyal remembrance."
The swarthy fellow drew from his wallet a letter, heavily sealed, and
inscribed at great length. He placed it in Mora's hands.
Her clear eyes dwelt upon his countenance with searching interest. It
was wonderful to her to see before her a man whose life Hugh had saved,
so far away, on an Eastern battle-field.
"In my husband's name, I thank you, Friend," she said. "And now my
people will put before you food and wine. You must have rest and
refreshment before you again set forth."
"I thank you, no," replied the stranger. "I must ride on, without
delay. I bid you farewell, Lady; and I do but wish the service, which
a strange chance has enabled me to render to the Knight, had been of
greater importance and had held more of risk or danger."
He bowed low, and departed. A few moments later he was riding out at
the gates, and making for the northward road.
Had Brother Philip chanced to be at hand, he could not have failed to
note that the swarthy stranger was mounted upon the fastest nag in the
Bishop's stable.
For a life of lawlessness, rapine, and robbery, does not debar a man
from keeping an oath sworn, out of honest gratitude, in cleaner, better
days.
Left alone, Mora passed on to the terrace and, in the clearer light,
examined this soiled and much inscribed missive.
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