"His hand is red with blood. Think of Sigeferth, of Morcar, of Elfhelm, nay, of a hundred others; then think not how he has plotted against my life, but how he made my own father hate and disown me; while he, the pampered favourite, swayed all the councils and betrayed the land. O Alfgar! couldst thou forgive him?" "He plotted against my life and my honour, too," said Alfgar, "and strove to deprive me of both; yet I am too happy now to harbour revenge." "Well, I meet him at St. Frideswide's tomorrow, and we shall be formally reconciled in the presence of the bishop and his clergy, wherewith I trust he will be content, and not trouble me too often with his presence." "Where is he staying now?" "I hardly know; but after the reconciliation I must admit him as my guest, for my sister is with him, if he chooses to stay; but I hope that will not be the case." "His ill-omened presence would cast a gloom upon St. Andrew's day." "It would indeed; it shall be avoided if possible. And now let us commend ourselves to the Lord, who died that we might be forgiven. 'Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.'" And they slept. On the morrow before the altar of St. Frideswide, the king and Edric had their places in the choir. One very touching ceremony, handed down from early times, was still observed in England--the "kiss of peace," occurring at some period before the close of the canon of the mass, when all the members of the cathedral chapter, or of the choir, as the case might be, solemnly saluted each other. And for this reason Edmund and Edric had been placed next each other. So when this most solemn moment arrived, they looked each other full in the face, and gave and received the sign of Christian brotherhood. After this they both communicated. When the holy rite was ended, Edmund invited Edric and Elgitha to become his guests. Edric knew the old palace well. He had occupied it one well-remembered season, during which, in that very banqueting hall where we have introduced our readers, Sigeferth and Morcar, the earls of the seven burghs, were treacherously murdered at the banquet after Edric had previously made them heavy with wine. There was the usual gathering that evening. Did Edric remember the place, and the bloody event which only he and one other present connected with the spot?--for Edmund had been far away, and the matter had been hushed up, as far as was possible, by all the power and influence Ethelred could exert in his favourite's cause, or rather his own, for he, the royal villain, shared the ill-gotten spoil. If he did remember it, he took care not to show it that night. He was as calm and self-possessed as a man could be--as a smiling sea under the summer sky--smiling so that the heedless voyager knows not what hideous trophies or past storms the smiling depths conceal. So was it with this treacherous penitent.