thou dead, Etienne would be heir of
Aescendune. At all events, thou wilt go to confession and get thy
soul in order--betake thyself to thy holy gear--men fight none the
worse for a clear conscience. And I would ask the intercession of
St. Michael--men speak well of him in Brittany, and tell how he
fought a combat a outrance with Satan, wherein the latter came off
none the better man."

"I shall see Father Elphege tonight--we are not heathen, we
English."

"Ah! here comes Louis. Well, what news dost thou bring?"

"Good ones. Our lord permits the fight. You should have seen how
stark and stern he looked when he saw his son's eyes. Wilfred, thou
hast a fist like a smith. Wilt thou do as well with the sword?"

"Tomorrow will show."

"Well, it is quite right of thee to fight for thine own serfs; I
would have fought for mine at Marmontier--none should have come
between me and them. And I am glad we did not hurt the poor knave.
Etienne will be a hard lord for thy people, if anything happens to
thee."

Oh, how the memory of his mother and her counsels came before the
poor orphan.

Still, how could he help it? He had done rightly, he felt sure; and
he knew that his father would say so were hecums alive.

"And so would my grandfather," thought he, "once the friend of the
Ironside, of whose wondrous exploits he often told me in olden days
around our winter fire. Would his spirit were with me now, and a
little of his skill in arms."

And thus musing, he arrived at the castle and betook himself, with
Pierre, to the tilt yard. Louis went off to seek Etienne, whose
second he was to be.

CHAPTER VI. A REVELATION.

The night was growing dark when Wilfred approached the priory, with
the intention of seeking Father Elphege, and putting, as Pierre had
said, "his spiritual gear in order."

As we have remarked in other pages, men then attached no notion of
sin to the mere act of fighting--there could not be a duty clearer
to Christians of that strange epoch than to fight with each other
whensoever the exigencies of society demanded--the very institution
of knighthood was bound up with the idea.

So he had no anticipation that the good father would say, "Don't
fight."

But when he approached the great door of the priory, with the
venerable figure of the patron saint bending over the archway, a
messenger--a lay brother--issued forth.

It was almost dark, but the man recognised Wilfred.

"Is it thou, Wilfred of Ae