In her soft half English, half Spanish,
she answered in the affirmative. I went to my own room and
armed myself; then ran upstairs to the comfortable chamber where
abode Master Jeremy Sparrow, surrounded by luxuries which his
soul contemned. He was not there. At the foot of the stair I was
met by Goodwife Allen. "The minister was called an hour ago,
sir," she announced. "There's a man dying of the fever at Archer's
Hope, and they sent a boat for him. He won't be back until
afternoon."
I hurried past her back to the stable. Black Lamoral was saddled,
and Diccon held the stirrup for me to mount.
"Good luck with the vermin, sir!" he said. "I wish I were going,
too."
His tone was sullen, yet wistful. I knew that he loved danger as I
loved it, and a sudden remembrance of the dangers we had faced
together brought us nearer to each other than we had been for
many a day.
"I don't take you," I explained, "because I have need of you here.
Master Sparrow has gone to watch beside a dying man, and will
not be back for hours. As for myself, there's no telling how long I
may be kept. Until I come you are to guard house and garden well.
You know what I mean. Your mistress is to be molested by no
one."
"Very well, sir."
"One thing more. There was some talk yesterday of my taking her
across the neck to the forest.
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