Perchance we may meet Acour， or at least gather some tidings of him."
So they went， leaving the Tower locked and barred， who perchance would have been wiser to follow Basil. A debased and fraudulent lawyer of no character at all， this man lived upon such fees as he could wring without authority from those who came to lay their suits before the Papal Court， playing upon their hopes and fears and pretending to a power which he did not possess. Had they done so， they might have seen him turn up a certain side street， and， when he was sure that none watched him， slip into the portal of an ancient house where visitors of rank were accustomed to lodge.
Mounting some stairs without meeting any one， for this house， like many others， seemed to be deserted in that time of pestilence， he knocked upon a door.
"Begone， whoever you are，" growled a voice from within. "Here there are neither sick to be tended nor dead to be borne away."
Had they been there to hear it， Hugh and **** might have found that voice familiar.
"Noble lord，" he replied， "I am the notary， Basil， and come upon your business."
"Maybe，" said the voice， "but how know I that you have not been near some case of foul sickness and will not bring it here？"
"Have no fear， lord； I have been waiting on the healthy， not on the sick--a task which I leave to others who have more taste that way."
Then the door was opened cautiously， and from the room beyond it came a pungent odour of aromatic essences. Basil passed in， shutting it quickly behind him. Before him at the further side of the table and near to a blazing fire stood Acour himself. He was clothed in a long robe and held a piece of linen that was soaked in some strong-smelling substance before his nose and mouth.
"Nay， come no nearer，" he said to the clerk， "for this infection is most subtle， and--be so good as to cast off that filthy cloak of yours and leave it by the door."
Basil obeyed， revealing an undergarment that was still more foul. He was not one who wasted money on new apparel.
"Well， man，" said Acour， surveying him with evident disgust and throwing a handful of dried herbs upon the fire， "what news now？ Has my cause been laid before his Holiness？ I trust so， for know that I grow weary of being cooped up here like a falcon in a cage with the dread of a loathsome death and a handful of frightened servants as companions who do nothing but drone out prayers all day long."
"Yes， lord， it has. I have it straight from Clement's own secretary， and the answer is that his Holiness will attend to the matter when the pest has passed away from Avignon， and not before. He adds also that when it does so， if ever， all the parties to the cause， by themselves or by their representatives， must appear before him. He will give no /ex parte/ judgment upon an issue which， from letters that have reached him appears to be complicated and doubtful."
"Mother of Heaven！" exclaimed Acour， "what a fool am I to let you in to tell me such tidings. Well， if that is all you have to say the sooner I am out of this hateful city the better. I ride this afternoon， or， if need be， walk on foot."
"Indeed，" said Basil. "Then you leave behind you some who are not so frightened of their health， but who bide here upon a very similar errand. Doubtless， as often happens to the bold， they will find a way to fulfil it."
"And who may these be， fellow？"
"A bold and warlike knight， a squire with hair like tow and a face that might be worn by Death himself， and a young English serving man."
Acour started up from the chair in which he had sat down.
"No need to tell me their names，" he said， "but how， by hell's gate， came de Cressi and his familiar here."
"By the road， I imagine， lord， like others. At least， a few days ago they were seen travelling toward the bridge of St. B閚閦et in the company of certain Jews， whom， I am informed， they had rescued from the just reward of their witchcraft. I have a note of all the facts， which include the slaying of sundry good Christians on behalf of the said Jews."
"Jews？ Why， that is enough to hang them in these times. But what do they here and where do they lodge？"
"Like your lordship they strive to see the Pope. They desire that an alleged marriage between one Sir Edmund Acour， Count of Noyon and Seigneur of Cattrina， and one lady Eve Clavering， an Englishwoman， may be declared null and void. As they have been so good as to honour me with their confidence and appoint me their agent， I am able to detail the facts. Therefore I will tell you at once that the case of this knight de Cressi appears to be excellent， since it includes the written confession of a certain Father Nicholas， of whom perhaps you have heard."
"The written confession of Nicholas！ Have you seen it？"
"Not as yet. So far I have been trusted with no original documents. Is it your will that I should try to possess myself of these？ Because， if so， I will do my best， provided----" and he looked at the pocket of Acour's robe.
"How much？" asked Acour. The man named a great sum， half to be paid down and half on the delivery of the papers.
"I'll double it，" said Acour， "if you can bring it about that these insolent Englishmen die--of the pest."
"How can I do that， lord？" asked Basil with a sour smile. "Such tricks might work backward. I might die， or you. Still these men have committed crimes， and just now there is a prejudice against Jews."
"Ay，" said Acour， "the Englishmen are sorcerers. I tell you that in Venice they were seen in the company of that fiend of the yellow cap and the fur robe who appears everywhere before the pest."
"Prove it，" exclaimed Basil， "and the citizens of Avignon will rid you of their troubling."
Then they debated long together and the end of it was that Basil departed， saying that he would return again on the morrow and make report as to certain matters.
