accustomed to pay to every one with whom he is desirous of
carrying his point," said Wilfrid.

"And what should Brithric, who is the heir of the richest thane in my
brother's court, want to gain of a poor, landless orphan who owes his
sustenance and education to the compassion of King Athelstane?"
retorted the prince, angrily.

The pale cheek of Wilfrid flushed with unwonted crimson at this
unexpected taunt from the lips of his young lord. It was with
difficulty that he restrained the tears which filled his eyes from
overflowing, but turning meekly away, he said--

"It is the first time the Atheling has condescended to upbraid his page
with the bounty of his royal brother, the generous Athelstane, whom may
heaven long preserve and bless."

"It is good policy, methinks, for the son of a traitor to speak loudly
of his loyalty to the mighty Athelstane," said Brithric, who, having
entered unperceived, was listening to this conversation.

"Nay, Brithric," said the prince, "Wilfrid could not help his father's
fault; though the remembrance of his crime and punishment ought to
restrain him from offering his opinion too boldly, when speaking of the
friends of his lord."

"Let every one be judged by his own deeds," replied Wilfrid. "My
unfortunate parent offended against the laws of his country, and has
suffered the penalty decreed to those who do so by the loss of life and
forfeiture of lands. As a further punishment, I, his only child, who
was born the heir of a fair patrimony, am reared in a state of
servitude and sorrow, and am doomed not only to mourn my early
bereavement of a father's care and my hard reverse of fortune, but to
endure the taunts of those who are unkind enough to reproach me with
the sore calamities which, without any fault of mine, have fallen upon
my youthful head."

The voice of Wilfrid failed him as he concluded, and he burst into a
flood of tears.

The heart of Prince Edwin smote him for the pain he had inflicted upon
his faithful page; but he was too proud to acknowledge his fault. He
could not, however, bear to look upon his tears; so he left him to
indulge them in solitude, and, taking the ready arm of Brithric,
strolled into the archery ground to amuse himself by shooting at a mark.

His hand was unsteady and his aim uncertain that day, yet Brithric's
voice was louder than ever in praising the skill of the Atheling. The
rest of the royal wards took their cue from the bold flatterer,