“Then in God’s or Satan’s name, give her one.  Only be careful it is the right sort, for if you made a mistake so that she hated me any more than she does at present, I know not what would happen.  Also if you kill her I’ll dig a sword point through you.  How would the stuff work?”

“She’ll seem somewhat stupid for a while, perhaps not speak, but only smile kindly.  That will last twelve hours or so, plenty of time for you to be married, and afterward, when the grosser part of the potion passes off leaving only its divine essence, why, afterward she’ll love you furiously.”

“A powerful medicine, truly, that can change the nature of woman.  Moreover, I’d rather that she loved me—­well, as happy brides do.  Still I put up with the fury provided it be of the good kind.  And now how is it to be done?”

“Leave that to me, lord,” said Nicholas, with a cunning smile.  “Give me a purse of gold, not less than ten pieces, for some is needed to melt in the mixture, and more to bribe that woman and others.  For the rest, hold yourself ready to become a husband before sunset to-morrow.  Go see Sir John and tell him that the lady softens.  Send men on to King’s Lynn also to bid them have our ship prepared to sail the minute we appear, which with good fortune should be within forty-eight hours from now.  Above all, forget not that I run great risk to soul and body for your sake and that there are abbeys vacant in Normandy.  Now, farewell, I must to my work, for this medicine takes much skill such as no other leech has save myself.  Ay, and much prayer also, that naught may hinder its powerful working.”

“Prayer to the devil, I think,” said his master looking after him with a shrug of his shoulders.  “God’s truth! if any one had told me three months gone that de Noyon would live to seek the aid of priests and potions to win a woman’s favour, I’d have named him liar to his face.  What would those who have gone before her think of this story, I wonder?”

Then with a bitter laugh he turned and went about his business, which was to lie to the father as he had lied to the daughter.  Only in this second case he found one more willing to listen and easier to deceive.

On the following morning, as it chanced, Eve had no relish for the food that was brought to her, for confinement in that narrow place had robbed her of her appetite.  Also she had suffered much from grievous fear and doubt, for whatever she might say to Acour, how could she be sure that his story was not true?  How could she be sure that her lover did not, in fact, now lie dead at the headsman’s hands?  Such things often happened when kings were wroth and would not listen.  Or perhaps Acour himself had found and murdered him, or hired others to do the deed.  She did not know, and, imprisoned here without a friend, what means had she of coming at the truth?  Oh! if only she could escape!  If only she could speak with Sir Andrew for one brief minute, she, poor fool, who had walked into this trap of her own will.