Then Hawise same in, and wanted to know what they were all doing there. She was excessively shocked when Doucebelle told her. How extremely improper! She must go in and put a stop to it that minute. Hawise tapped at the door, but no answer came. She opened it, and stood, silenced and frightened by what she saw. Richard de Clare bent over the bed, pouring passionate, unanswered kisses upon dead violet eyes, and tenderly smoothing the tresses of the cedar hair. "The Lord has been here!" said Beatrice involuntarily. "O Lord, be thanked that Thou hast given Thy child quiet rest at last!" was the response from Bruno. Richard stood up and faced them. "Is this God's doing, or is it man's?" he said, in a voice which sounded almost like an execration of some one. "God gave me this white dove, to nestle in my bosom and to be the glory of my life. Who took her from me? Does one of you dare to say it was God? It was man!--a man who shall pay for it, if he coin his heart's blood to do so. And if the payment cost my heart's blood, it will be little matter, seeing it has cost my heart already." He drew his dagger, and bending down again, severed one of the long soft tresses of the cedar hair. "Farewell, my dove!" he murmured, in a tone so altered that it was difficult to recognise the same voice. "Thou at least shalt suffer no more. Thy place is with the blessed saints and the holy angels, where nothing may ever enter that shall grieve or defile. But surely as thou art safe housed in Heaven, and I am left desolate on earth, thy death shall be avenged by fair means or by foul!" "`Vengeance is Mine; I will repay, saith the Lord,'" softly quoted Bruno as Richard passed him in the doorway. "He will,--by my hands!" And Richard de Clare was seen no more. It was hard to tell the poor mother, who came into her Margaret's bower with a bright smile, guessing so little of the terrible news in store. Tenderly as they tried to break it, she fainted away, and had to be nursed back to life and diligently cared for. But all was over for the night, and Doucebelle and Beatrice were beginning to think of bed, before Eva made her appearance. Of course the news had to be told again. "Oh dear, how shocking!" said Eva, putting down her bouquet. "How very distressing! (I am afraid those flowers will never keep till morning.) Well, do you know, I am really thankful I was not here. What good could it have done poor dear Margaret, you know?--and I am so easily upset, and so very sensitive! I never can _bear_ scenes of that sort. (Dear, I had no idea my shoes were so splashed!) As it is, I shall not sleep a wink. I sha'n't get over it for a week,--if I do then! Oh, how very shocking! Look, Doucebelle, aren't these cowslips sweet?" "Eva, wilt thou let me have some of the white flowers--for Margaret?" said Doucebelle.