ord of Cartillon.

Pedro was slowly sinking to the ground, easing himself down somewhat
upon his knees and elbows. His brother stood near watching, and calmly
wiping the red drippings from his sword upon the grass. Not a
semblance of regret did he show for the deed of blood.

The father gazed transfixed with horror from one son to the other,
until the slow comprehension came to him.

"How now, Raoul, what hast thou done?" the older man demanded of Raoul.

"Canst thou not see? He stood between me and the lordship of this fair
domain," the younger replied full as sturdily, hot and scornful, with
lowering brow and unrepenting glare.

"Thou foul and unnatural murderer, and thinkest thou to profit by thy
brother's death? No; I swear--"

"Hold, old man; swear not and taint not thy soul with perjury. Have a
care for thine own safety. It is now but the feeble barrier of thy
tottering age which prevents all these acres, these fighting men, these
towers from being my own. Have a care, I say, that thou dost not lie
as low as he, and by my hand."

The old man fell back a pace affrighted, feeling for the first time in
his life a fear, fear of his own son. Yet the scornful and defiant
face before him was that of his true child. Therein he saw reflected
his own turbulent and reckless youth. The wretched old man covered his
face from the sight of Pedro, his first born, who had settled down upon
his back in the repose of death, and moaned aloud in his agony.

"Nay, sorrow not, my father," Raoul commanded harshly, "it was but a
weakling who stood next thy seat of power. Behold! I, too, am thy
son; I am stronger, of a stouter heart, abler and more courageous than
he, and will make thee a fitter heir. Didst thou not slay thy brother
to sit in his hall? Didst not thou hang him to drink his wine, to
command his servants? Have I done aught but follow thy example?"

Heedless of his father's sobs Raoul pursued his unrelenting purpose.

"What the sword did for thee it has done for me, all glory to the
sword," and he raised the reeking blade to his lips to kiss. The elder
man shrank away from him as he approached.

"Nay, as I tell thee, draw not thy hand away, turn not from me, or by
the blood of Christ, by thine own gray hairs, I'll lay thee beside thy
woman-son, the puny changeling whose face now is scarce paler than his
blood was thin. Now, by the God who made ye, swear 'twill be given out
as but an accident, and n