Woodville nodded his head, and his friend proceeded: "'That the said Sir Henry, though his house is distant but seven miles, did not reach his own door till the hour of nine, and that the lady came by her death between seven and eight, or thereabout; that Sir Henry's hand was torn when he reached his house; and that there was a stain of blood upon the lady's throat; that there were marks of horses' feet on the opposite side of the river, and across the moor towards Sir Henry's dwelling; and that he himself was seen of many persons wandering about near Abbot's Ann and Dunbury, till dark that night; all of which points Sir Simeon of Roydon doubted not, in any way, could be easily explained by Sir Henry Dacre, if true--but which, perchance, were untrue he, Sir Simeon, having heard them merely from vague report and common fame!' Some true, some false," cried Dacre. "I did tear my hand, opening the gate by Clatford mill. I did wander about, with a heart on fire, and a brain all whirling, at being made wretched by another's fault; but I was far from the village, far from Abbey and Hall, before the sun went down; for I saw him set from Weyhill.--Ah! poisonous snake! He stings and glides away from the heel that would crush him. Hear how he ends: 'For his own part, Sir Simeon of Roydon is right well convinced that Sir Henry Dacre is pure and free of all share in the lady's death; otherwise that knight might be full sure he would be the first to call him to the lists, in vengeance of his cousin's death.' The scoundrel coward! But how is this, Richard? He must have spies in our houses--at our hearths. How else did he gain such tidings? Who told him of the quarrel between that hapless girl and me? He was gone long before, I think?" "Ay, but his servants stayed," replied Woodville; "and there was one in the hall when you returned; that black-looking, silent man. Yet he must have some other means of information, too; else how did he know your hand was torn?" "I cannot say," answered Dacre, thoughtfully. "By heaven! he will plant suspicion in my heart, too, and make me doubt the long-tried, faithful fellows I have with me." And he cast himself gloomily on a seat, and pondered in silence. The moment after, there was a sound of horses' feet passing along before the house, and Richard of Woodville turned and listened, saying, "Here is some new messenger. Were it any of my own people, they would come to the other gate." After some talking in the hall without, an attendant opened the door, and informed his young master that there was a person without who desired to see him. "He comes from Westminster," added the man, "and will give neither message nor letters to any but yourself, sir."