anish wars {xi}, and around it lay the
graves of those who had died in troublous times; there English
priests were still found to serve at the altar; Norman tyranny did
not spare the English Church any more than the English nobility.

But the Norman dead were simply carried to a quagmire of bottomless
depth which absorbed the bodies, and furnished a convenient though
dreadful grave.

And in this division of the slain, young Eadwin, pierced with four
wounds, was found; and the arrows, yet remaining, showed at once
that he had not fallen in fair strife.

The search for Etienne, still unsuccessful, was being eagerly
pursued, when Wilfred returned, bent on questioning Pierre, and
beheld the dead body of Eadwin.

He was deeply moved, for he had loved the poor lad, his foster
brother, well, and could not easily restrain his emotion, but so
soon as he was master of himself, the desire for vengeance
superseded softer emotions, and he ordered the wounded Pierre to be
brought before him.

He had no difficulty in learning the truth. Pierre, now upon his
mettle, somewhat sorrowfully said that as the young thrall would
not answer his lord when bidden, Etienne had endeavoured to compel
him.

"Thou hadst, then, no part in it?"

"I gave the coup de grace."

"Then thou hast sealed thine own fate: it is folly to extend mercy
to those who never show it."

"I have not asked it of thee--of the associate of murderers and
outlaws."

The sun rose clear and bright after that eventful night--the storm
was over--its rising beams fell upon a company of archers drawn up
in the English encampment--upon a young warrior doomed to die, who
stood bravely before them. The gray-haired priest who had prepared
him for death--the only favour shown him--bade him a last farewell;
the bows twanged, and the same arrows which had transfixed the
flesh of Eadwin pierced the heart of Pierre de Morlaix.

CHAPTER XII. THE ENIGMA SOLVED.

We owe our readers some apology for having so long trifled with
their patience concerning the fate of Wilfred, and we trust they
are somewhat anxious to hear how he escaped the flames on that
fatal night when the monastery was burnt.

When good Father Alphege heard that the boy had returned under
captivity, for whose safety he was so anxious, he sent at once
another messenger to the good Bishop Geoffrey, imploring his aid
for the orphan.

But the monastery was already watched and neither letter nor
messenge