n the lists, if the King so
allow."

"We do not risk thy safety against one who is already proved guilty
of rebellion, and who is not of knightly rank like thyself."

(Etienne had duly received knighthood after the taking of the Camp
of Refuge.)

"This is a question of evidence. State thy case."

Etienne spake clearly and well; and as he told the story of the
destruction of the priory of St. Wilfred, of the subsequent
appearance of our hero in the woods at the head of the outlaws, and
the later conflagrations, there were few who did not think that he
had proved his case, so far as it admitted of proof.

"We will now hear thy story of the destruction of the priory, and
the manner in which thou didst escape from it," said the Conqueror
to Wilfred.

Wilfred spoke good Norman French, thanks to his early education, in
company with Etienne and the other pages, after the Conquest. So he
began his story lucidly, but not without some emotion, which he
strove in vain to suppress.

"Normans," he said, "I would not defend myself against this foul
charge to save my forfeit life, nor could I hope to save it. Ye
have met like wolves to judge a stag, and since ye have taken from
me all that makes life dear, I refuse not to die; only I would die
with honour, and hence I strive, speaking but the words of truth,
to remove the stain which my enemy there" (he turned and pointed at
Etienne) "has cast upon my honour, for I am of a house that has
never known shame, and would not disgrace it in my person.

"I submitted to the father ye Normans gave me, and bore all the
wrongs he and his heaped upon me, until the day when I discovered
in that father" (he pronounced the word with the deepest scorn)
"the murderer of my own mother."

A general burst of incredulity, followed by an indignant and
scornful denial from Etienne.

"Silence," said a stern voice, "this is not a hostelry; the
prisoner has the right of speech and the ear of the judge; only,
Englishman, be careful what thou sayest."

"I repeat the simple fact, my lord" (this was the only title
Wilfred would give the King); "the baron, whom ye are pleased
sportively to call my father, poisoned my own mother."

"Poisoned! poisoned! My liege, can this be endured?"

"Hear him to the end, and then, if he have spoken without proof, it
will be time to pronounce his aggravated sentence. SILENCE!"

Wilfred continued, and told the whole story as our readers know it,
until his arrival