at the Dismal Swamp. He described all that had
passed so clearly that his foes became interested in spite of
themselves, and listened. He did not charge Hugo with the burning
of the priory, for he had no evidence to sustain the charge, being
only aware that such was at hand to be produced by others; as he
had learnt from Father Kenelm, who had been granted admittance to
his cell.

At length he finished in these words:

"And now I have told you all the truth, and if ye will not believe
me, but prefer to think I betrayed those to death I loved so
dearly, I cannot help myself; but if there be a God, and a judgment
day--as ye all profess to believe--I appeal to that God and that
day, knowing that my innocence will then be made clear. That I
fought with them who slew the baron I freely admit, and hold myself
justified, as ye must, if ye believe my story; but I myself
protected the monks of your kindred, albeit they had taken the
places of better men than themselves, and not one was harmed; and
when we fled, we burnt castle, priory, and village, without
distinction, that they might not shelter an enemy. This, too, I
hold to be lawful in war.

"I know that Englishmen find scant justice at Norman hands, and
that ye will slay me as a rebel. Do so, and I will thank you; only
defile not the memory--slay not the reputation as well as the body.
If the house of Aescendune, which was planted in this land when ye
Normans were but pagan Danes, is to perish, let it at least go
unsullied to its grave. I have spoken."

There was strong sensation. His speech had produced some reaction
in his favour.

"It is, as we said before, a question of evidence," said the King.
"Is any forthcoming on one side or the other? for as yet neither
party has really shown who burnt the priory and the monks therein.
We have only assumptions, and they are not facts."

Lanfranc looked at the King, as if asking permission to speak. The
King bent his head, and the Archbishop began, addressing Etienne:

"Amongst the followers of thy father, was there a warrior named
Guy, son of Roger, born at Malville?"

"There was."

"Didst thou know him well?"

"Intimately."

"What became of him?"

"He was lost when my father perished--faithful, doubtless, to the
last."

"Didst thou ever see his mark as a witness to any charter, or the
like?"

"I did; instead of making a cross, he preferred to draw a bow."

"Wouldst thou recognise it, then?"

"I should, i