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Updated: May 5, 2025
Now my young readers will probably anticipate a bout at fisticuffs; but no such vulgar a combat commended itself to the proud young Norman, even thus suddenly humiliated; neither did he, under these very trying circumstances, lose his self command. Yet his hatred was none the less, nor did he cherish a less deadly design. "Let the young brute go," said he, as he arose, pointing to Eadwin.
Well, they will rue it ere long; a short shrift and a long rope will be their portion." "Ah! I remember noticing such in the quiver of the young thrall Eadwin," said Pierre "he whose hand you sought to cut off for poaching." They said no more on that occasion, but pursued in silence the train of thought suggested.
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.
"Yes, but they did not shrink from poisoning her they whom she would not have harmed to save her own life." "God will avenge leave all to Him." "Nay, mother, we waste time; if thou hast not seen him, we go." "Hast thou seen my Eadwin? He is generally here with the lark?"
From the language used, the words he had heard, he felt that this old woman must be the foster mother of his rival, and, if so, the mother of that very Eadwin he had so cruelly put to death the previous night; he quite understood Wilfred's evasive reply. His heart smote him, and he repented of this cruelty, at least: he dreaded the moment when his preserver must learn the truth.
It was held around the fire in the same farmhouse in which poor Eadwin had met his death, and which had now become the headquarters of the outlaws whom Norman tyranny had made. Wilfred, young although he was, presided for was he not the representative of the ancient lords of Aescendune, and those gathered around him the descendants of the men whom his fathers had often led to victory?
Etienne knew him: it was Eadwin, the son of Wilfred's old nurse, for whom he had an ancient grudge, which he at once resolved to gratify. He summoned Ralph and the rest who had escaped the morass they were only ten in number, the others had succumbed to the horrors of that fearful night. Yet even so, the impulses of pride and cruelty were not subdued in the heart of Etienne, son of Hugo.
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.
So they dragged their intended victim to a stump, and Etienne prepared to execute the cruel operation which he had witnessed too often not to know how to do it. Poor Eadwin appealed in vain for mercy.
The search for Etienne, still unsuccessful, was being eagerly pursued, when Wilfred returned, bent on questioning Pierre, and beheld the dead body of Eadwin.
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