his word.

In this feeling Father Kenelm, who now ministered wholly to the
spiritual necessities of the dwellers in the Dismal Swamp, strove
feebly to restrain him; but Wilfred was rapidly outgrowing all
restraint, and perhaps the good father, who after all was human,
and the sole survivor of a happy and united brotherhood, did not
feel very deeply shocked by the hatred manifested to the destroyers
of his brethren.

Yet he pleaded for Pierre de Morlaix on the eventful night recorded
in our last chapter; but the cruel death of Eadwin at the hands of
the invaders rendered his prayers useless. The whole feeling of the
little community was with Wilfred in the matter; besides, they
wanted no prisoners, and dared not set one free to disclose the
secret of their refuge.

But we must resume the thread of our story, for our readers are
doubtless profoundly interested in the fate of Etienne, the rival
heir, and we must apologise for having kept them so long in
suspense.

CHAPTER XIII. "COALS OF FIRE {xii}."

The unhappy youth, whose recklessness and folly had led to the
entire destruction of the troop confided to his care, was now their
sole survivor.

In that hour, when all was lost, at the close of the deadly
struggle in the house, he had crawled through the door, ere the
lights were rekindled which had been extinguished in the frenzy of
the conflict, and sought refuge in flight: not so much, it must be
owned, because he feared death (although youth naturally clings to
life), as because he longed to live for vengeance, and to carry the
secret of the "Dismal Swamp" to Aescendune.

He was bleeding, bruised, scarcely able to move without pain--all
his energy seemed exhausted in the supreme effort which had saved
him, at least for the time; but it was again very dark, thick
clouds charged with snow once more obscured the moon, and the cover
of the trees was before him, which he sought, determined rather to
perish in the morass than to become the sport of his triumphant
foes.

He had gained the desired shelter, and had paused to rest himself
and consider what to do next, when he felt something living come
into contact with his legs. He started, as well he might under the
circumstances, when he saw to his great relief that it was one of
the dogs which had accompanied his party throughout the day, and
hope sprang up in his breast. The hound might perhaps lead him back
through the morass.

At that moment, the arri