ding
these hungry and welcomeless visitors. Durst I counsel my lord I would
pray him, as a matter of policy, to baffle this astute and proud Earl.
He would fain have the King feast in public, that he might daunt him and
the Church with the array of his friends."

"I conceive thee, my father," said Edward, with more quickness than
habitual, and with the cunning, sharp though guileless, that belongs to
minds undeveloped, "I conceive thee; it is good and most politic. This
our orgulous Earl shall not have his triumph, and, so fresh from his
exile, brave his King with the mundane parade of his power. Our health
is our excuse for our absence from the banquet, and, sooth to say, we
marvel much why Easter should be held a fitting time for feasting and
mirth. Wherefore, Hugoline, my chamberlain, advise the Earl that to-day
we keep fast till the sunset, when temperately, with eggs, bread, and
fish, we will sustain Adam's nature. Pray him and his sons to attend
us--they alone be our guests." And with a sound that seemed a laugh, or
the ghost of a laugh, low and chuckling--for Edward had at moments an
innocent humour which his monkish biographer disdained not to note
[128],--he flung himself back in his chair. The priests took the cue,
and shook their sides heartily, as Hugoline left the room, not ill
pleased, by the way, to escape an invitation to the eggs, bread, and
fish.

Alred sighed; and said, "For the Earl and his sons, this is honour; but
the other earls, and the thegns, will miss at the banquet him whom they
design but to honour, and----"

"I have said," interrupted Edward, drily, and with a look of fatigue.

"And," observed another Churchman, with malice, "at least the young Earls
will be humbled, for they will not sit with the King and their father, as
they would in the Hall, and must serve my lord with napkin and wine."

"Inprinis," quoth our scholar the abbot, "that will be rare! I would I
were by to see. But this Godwin is a man of treachery and wile, and my
lord should beware of the fate of murdered Alfred, his brother!"

The King started, and pressed his hands to his eyes.

"How darest thou, Abbot Fatchere," cried Alred, indignantly; "How darest
thou revive grief without remedy, and slander without proof?"

"Without proof?" echoed Edward, in a hollow voice. "He who could murder,
could well stoop to forswear! Without proof before man; but did he try
the ordeals of God?--did his feet pass the plough