"'And no one shall detect the cause?' "'Call the most learned physicians ye Christians have (dolts are they all), and they shall call it a natural death--consumption--so gradually shall the patient wear away.' "'I will trust thee; here is the gold.' "I had seen the man's face through the curtain; but no sooner was he gone than my master descended the stairs, calling for me. I managed to reach him without raising his suspicion, and he pointed out the figure of his visitor receding in the distant gloom of the street. "'Follow and learn who he is.' "I followed and dogged him to his lodging--it was the present lord of Aescendune. "I knew of his marriage--I felt sure whom he wanted to destroy; yet I did not dare show myself at Aescendune, even to save so innocent a life--the life of so sweet and good a lady as she had ever been. But at length disease--an incurable disease--seized me, and the dread of approaching death and judgment has brought me to tell what it freezes my heart to say--all too late to save, but not perhaps to avenge--I tell thee thy mother was poisoned, O Wilfred of Aescendune!" "Tell me what would be the signs of the drug?" "If dropped in water, it would, although colourless, impart a blue tinge to the liquid." Wilfred hid his face in his hands and sobbed aloud. "Dost thou forgive me?" said the dying thrall. "Thou mightest have saved her, yet I do forgive thee." "I might; it was my sin, and she was my liege lady, the gentlest and kindest." "Thou art forgiven; but oh! my father! who shall do justice on the murderer, the poisoner?" "That is thy task; the son must avenge his mother's blood, and do justice on the murderer. Listen, Wilfred: Dost thou remember Bishop Geoffrey of Coutances?" "Well," said the poor boy, "he married them; but he, too, is a Norman--they are all alike." "Nay, there be wise and good men amongst them, and this bishop is one. Thou shalt seek him, for he is now in Oxford: thou shalt start this very night, and tomorrow thou mayest reach him. I will give thee the written confession of this most unhappy but penitent Beorn, and the bishop will hear thee, and justice shall yet be done. But thou must depart at once, or he will have left the city. I will give thee food, and my palfrey shall be at thy service in an hour's time. And now, my child, while the food is preparing, go and pray at thy mother's tomb, and ask for grace to seek justice, not revenge; for it is not fitting the murderer should lord it longer over thy people and thee!" And in another minute the unhappy lad was prostrate before his mother's tomb: all other thoughts had gone from him--Etienne, Pierre, and the rest were forgotten--he was absorbed in the thought of his parent's wrongs, and in the awful responsibility that knowledge had thrust upon him {ix}. CHAPTER VII. FRUSTRATED.