hts did Godwin lie speechless [132]. And
Harold watched over him night and day. And the leaches [133] would not
bleed him, because the season was against it, in the increase of the moon
and the tides; but they bathed his temples with wheat flour boiled in
milk, according to a prescription which an angel in a dream [134] had
advised to another patient; and they placed a plate of lead on his
breast, marked with five crosses, saying a paternoster over each cross;
together with other medical specifics in great esteem [135]. But,
nevertheless, five days and five nights did Godwin lie speechless; and
the leaches then feared that human skill was in vain.

The effect produced on the court, not more by the Earl's death-stroke
than the circumstances preceding it, was such as defies description. With
Godwin's old comrades in arms it was simple and honest grief; but with
all those under the influence of the priests, the event was regarded as a
direct punishment from Heaven. The previous words of the King, repeated
by Edward to his monks, circulated from lip to lip, with sundry
exaggerations as it travelled: and the superstition of the day had the
more excuse, inasmuch as the speech of Godwin touched near upon the
defiance of one of the most popular ordeals of the accused,--viz. that
called the "corsned," in which a piece of bread was given to the supposed
criminal; if he swallowed it with ease he was innocent; if it stuck in
his throat, or choked him, nay, if he shook and turned pale, he was
guilty. Godwin's words had appeared to invite the ordeal, God had heard
and stricken down the presumptuous perjurer!

Unconscious, happily, of these attempts to blacken the name of his dying
father, Harold, towards the grey dawn succeeding the fifth night, thought
that he heard Godwin stir in his bed. So he put aside the curtain, and
bent over him. The old Earl's eyes were wide open, and the red colour
had gone from his cheeks, so that he was pale as death.

"How fares it, dear father?" asked Harold.

Godwin smiled fondly, and tried to speak, but his voice died in a
convulsive rattle. Lifting himself up, however, with an effort, he
pressed tenderly the hand that clasped his own, leant his head on
Harold's breast, and so gave up the ghost.

When Harold was at last aware that the struggle was over, he laid the
grey head gently on the pillow; he closed the eyes, and kissed the lips,
and knelt down and prayed. Then, seating himself at