sses. It...." he swallowed, "it will be called murder, fair
fight though it was; and should it be discovered that it was I...." He
shivered and his glance grew wild; his lips twitched.

"I see," said Oliver, who understood at last, and he added bitterly:
"You fool!"

"I had no choice," protested Lionel. "He came at me with his drawn
sword. Indeed, I think he was half-drunk. I warned him of what must
happen to the other did either of us fall, but he bade me not concern
myself with the fear of any such consequences to himself. He was full
of foul words of me and you and all whoever bore our name. He struck me
with the flat of his blade and threatened to run me through as I stood
unless I drew to defend myself. What choice had I? I did not mean to
kill him--as God's my witness, I did not, Noll."

Without a word Oliver turned to a side-table, where stood a metal basin
and ewer. He poured water, then came in the same silence to treat his
brother's wound. The tale that Lionel told made blame impossible, at
least from Oliver. He had but to recall the mood in which he himself
had ridden after Peter Godolphin; he had but to remember, that only
the consideration of Rosamund--only, indeed, the consideration of his
future--had set a curb upon his own bloodthirsty humour.

When he had washed the wound he fetched some table linen from a press
and ripped it into strips with his dagger; he threaded out one of these
and made a preliminary crisscross of the threads across the lips of the
wound--for the blade had gone right through the muscles of the breast,
grazing the ribs; these threads would help the formation of a clot.
Then with the infinite skill and cunning acquired in the course of his
rovings he proceeded to the bandaging.

That done, he opened the window and flung out the blood-tinted water.
The cloths with which he had mopped the wound and all other similar
evidences of the treatment he cast upon the fire. He must remove all
traces even from the eyes of Nicholas. He had the most implicit trust
in the old servant's fidelity. But the matter was too grave to permit of
the slightest risk. He realized fully the justice of Lionel's fears that
however fair the fight might have been, a thing done thus in secret must
be accounted murder by the law.

Bidding Lionel wrap himself in his cloak, Sir Oliver unbarred the door,
and went upstairs in quest of a fresh shirt and doublet for his brother.
On the landing he met Nicholas descend