by A. D. Crake
CHAPTER XXIII. "GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY."
A dead silence followed the reading of the dying confession of Guy,son of Roger.
The mighty Conqueror looked around, as if he would read men'shearts.
Etienne de Malville was flushed, and seemed ready to sink into theearth for shame, as though he himself were responsible for theguilt of his father.
Wilfred of Aescendune, on the other hand, looked like one whoseinnocence was vindicated; there was an expression of joy on hisface--joy, however, so tempered by other feelings, that it couldnot be called exultation.
"It is a forgery--a vile and shameful forgery," cried Etienne.
"Thou didst thyself recognise the mark," said the king sternly. "Wepardon thine excitement, but do not forget the presence of thineelders."
"Can I sit thus tamely, and hear my dead father accused of thevilest crimes?"
"Justice shall be done his memory--justice, neither more nor less,"said the Conqueror sternly.
"I claim, then, my privilege to meet the accuser in knightlycombat."
"The accuser is dead. Wilt thou go to purgatory to meet him? for wetrust his penitence has saved him from going farther and faringworse. Keep silence, and do not further interrupt the course ofjustice. We can pity thee, believing thee to be incapable of suchdeeds thyself."
Then, turning to the court:
"Is there any other evidence, verbal or written, bearing upon thisquestion?"
"There is, my liege," said Bishop Geoffrey.
"What is it?"
"A letter addressed to me by the murdered prior of St. Wilfred'sPriory, who perished in the flames on the fatal night of which wehave heard so much."
"Its date?"
"The night in Ascensiontide, three years agone, in which theprisoner left his stepfather's protection and made a vain attemptto reach me at Oxenford, striving to bear the missive of which thisis a copy."
"And the original?"
"Fell into the possession of the late baron, his stepfather, afterEustace, Count of Blois, had borne the lad back again by force."
"Hast thou satisfied thyself of the authenticity of the copy?"
"I have; it was attested by Prior Elphege himself, in the presenceof the Benedictine from whom I received it."
"Then read the letter."
And amidst breathless attention, Geoffrey read:
Elphege, prior of the house of St. Wilfred at Aescendune, to thenoble prelate Geoffrey, Bishop of Coutances, now resident atOxenford, sendeth greeting.
It will not have escaped thy remembrance, most holy father in God,that on the fatal field of Senlac--fatal, that is, to mycountrymen, for I am not ashamed to call myself an Englishman--thoudidst favourably notice a youth, who sought and found his father'sdead body, by name Wilfred, son of Edmund of Aescendune.
Nor wilt thou forget that thou didst intercede for the boy that hemight retain his ancestral possessions, which boon thou didst onlyobtain at the cost of his widowed mother's marriage with Hugo, Lordof Malville, outre mer.
It was then settled that the two boys, Etienne de Melville andWilfred of Aescendune, thereby thrown together, should each inheritthe lands and honours of their respective sires; but that, shouldthe latter die, the united estates should fall to Etienne deMalville, did he still survive.
In this arrangement, we naturally saw danger to our own preciouscharge--for our spiritual child he was--Wilfred of Aescendune.
His mother died the year after the Conquest, and passed, as wethought, happily from a world of sin and sorrow.
The boy, at first disconsolate with grief, recovered his health andspirits after awhile, and if allowed to live, might assuredly growto man's estate, and perpetuate his ancient line.
If allowed, I say, for we have just received evidence that themother was poisoned, and we tremble with horror lest the boy shouldshare her fate.
This evidence is in the form of a dying confession, which, at therequest of the poor penitent, we have written with pen and ink.
When thou hast read it, for the love of God and of His saints,especially of our father Benedict, stretch forth thine hand andprotect the unhappy bearer, the youthful lord of Aescendune.
We commend him with all confidence to thy care.
Given at St. Wilfred's priory, in the octave of Ascension, 1068.
"Hear ye the confession enclosed," said Geoffrey.
It is five years since I fled the face of my lord, Edmund ofAescendune, for I had slain his red deer, and sold them for filthylucre, and I feared to meet his face; so I fled to the great city,even London, where I was like to starve, till a Jew, who saw mydistress, took pity on me, and gave me shelter.
His name was Abraham of Toledo, and he was mighty in magic arts,and in compounding of deadly drugs to slay, or medicines to keepalive. He made me his servant, and I, albeit a Christian man, soonlearned to do the bidding of the devil at his command.
One day there came a Norman noble, and bought of my master aliquid, which would cause those who drank but one drop, daily, todie of deadly decline within the year. I heard the bargain made asI was compounding some drugs within a recess of my master'schamber. No sooner was the man gone than Abraham descended thestairs, calling for me. I managed to reach him without raising hissuspicions, when he bade me follow the retreating stranger, not yetout of sight in the gloom, and learn his name. I did so; it wasHugo de Malville, the new lord of Aescendune.
I knew of his marriage, and felt sure whom he wanted to destroy;but I dared not show myself at home. At length an incurable diseaseseized me, and I determined to unburden my conscience, and draggedmyself here, only to learn that the sweet lady of Aescendune haddied within the year, with all the symptoms of rapid decline, andupon my sod I charge Hugo de Malville with the murder.
Given in the infirmary of the house of St. Wilfred, in the month ofMay, 1068.
This dying confession was made in our hearing this day.
Elphege, Prior.
Ceadda, Sub-Prior,
Tuesday in Oct., Asc., in the year of grace, 1068.
After a moment's silence, Odo of Bayeux, the Conqueror's halfbrother, and a hateful oppressor of the poor English, rose up:
"This letter does not afford any absolute proof of the guilt of ourdeparted brother in arms, Hugo of Aescendune. He may have boughtthe liquid; there is no proof he administered it--people die ofdecline daily."
"May I produce and question a witness before the court," saidGeoffrey, "in the absence of the prisoner?"
"Certainly," replied William.
A signal was given to an expectant usher of the court. Wilfred wasled out, and in a few moments two wardens entered in charge ofanother prisoner.
He was tall and haggard; a long beard descended to his waist. Hispeculiar nose--the most marked characteristic of his race, long andbeak-shaped, yet not exactly aquiline--marked the Jew. He lookedanxiously around.
"Thou art Abraham of Toledo?"
The Hebrew bowed submissively.
"A compounder of poisons?"
"Say rather of medicines, lord; for the making of one is therule--of the other, the exception."
"Thou dost not deny the accusation, which places thy life at themercy of the court?"
"I will own all, and throw myself on its mercy, trusting that therelief I have oft afforded in bodily anguish, maybe allowed toatone, in its measure, for any aid my fears may have driven me tolend to crime."
"It is thine only chance, Jew, to tell the truth, the whole truth,and nothing but the truth."
"I am at your lordship's disposal."
"Didst thou ever deal with Hugo, sometime lord of Malville. andafterwards of Aescendune?"
"Once only."
"On what occasion?"
"He sought a medicine."
"A medicine?" said Geoffrey, sternly; "thou triflest."
"Nay!--a poison, I would have said."
"Of what specific nature?"
"To produce the symptoms of decline--the patient would sink anddie."
&
nbsp; "What was the appearance of the poison?"
"Dropped in water it diffused at first a sapphire hue, but afterexposure to the air the hue of the ruby succeeded."
"Didst thou know the purpose for which he bought the drug?"
"My lord, I did not, nor do I know now; my humble occupations donot lead me amongst the mighty of the land, save when they seek myhumble shop."
"Still thine offence, Jew," said the stern voice of the Conqueror,"is a damnable one, and lendest itself readily to the purposes ofcrime.
"Let the unbeliever be removed in custody.
"My lord of Canterbury, he is a heretic--perchance a sorcerer; letthe Church see to him."
And so the poor Jew was removed to his dungeon.
"And now with your favour," said Geoffrey, "I would ask a fewquestions of the prisoner, in your presence."
"The permission is given," said William.
Wilfred was again conducted before the court.
"Thou hast dared to brand thy late stepfather as the poisoner ofthy mother; wilt thou state any cause or justification thou mayesthave, over and above that indicated by the letter and confession wehave read?"
"I did not dream of such guilt before I heard that confession,months after the death of my mother."
"Hadst thou ever seen medicine administered to her?"
"Frequently, by the baron her second husband himself. He called itthe elixir of life, and stated he had obtained it at a high price,from a noted Jewish physician."
"What was its colour?"
"A drop only was let fall into water, which it tinged with agreenish hue, as of a sapphire."
"Didst thou mark any peculiarity?"
"On one occasion, when, owing to very sudden sickness, the medicinewas not taken, my sister and I marked with surprise, that themedicine thus diluted had changed to a crimson colour."
General sensation. Etienne hid his face in his mantle; thechurchman and nobles conferred together. William spoke:
"Thou hast thy lesson perfect, boy. Didst thou ever see this JewAbraham?"
"Never; or he had not lived to tell thee."
"Then there is no possible collusion between the witnesses--Iappeal to thee, my lord of Coutances?"
"None; I will answer for it as a bishop. It was a providentialthought, which led me to interrogate the Jew respecting theappearance of the medicine, and one utterly unpremeditated."
"Remove the prisoner," said the king.
While Wilfred was absent, William conferred with his lordsspiritual and temporal. This was no court wherein the popularelement found place; the whole issue of the trial lay with themighty chieftain--the rest were but his consultees.
We will not record the deliberations, only their result.
After half an hour had passed--a time of dread suspense to theprisoner--Wilfred was again summoned to the bar.
William addressed him:
"We have duly considered thy case, Wilfred of Aescendune, and fullyacquit thee of the guilt of sacrilege, while we also admit thatthere were causes, which might go far to justify thy rebellionagainst thy stepfather, and to mitigate the guilt of armedresistance to thy king.
"We are not met to judge thy stepfather; he has been called to ahigher and an unerring tribunal, and there we leave him, satisfiedthat the Judge of all the earth will do right.
"For thee--the guilt of rebellion and of bearing arms against thyking for three whole years has to be expiated; but if thou artwilling to take the oath of allegiance on the spot, and bindthyself to discharge the duties of a subject to his king, we willconsider thy case favourably, and perchance restore thee, undercertain conditions, to thy ancestral possessions. Speak, whatsayest thou--dost thou hesitate?"
Every eye was fixed on the prisoner.
He stood there, firm as a rock, and looked bravely into that facewhose frown so few could bear.
"My lord of Normandy," he said, "by birth I owe thee no allegiance,and I cannot acknowledge that thy masterful and bloody conquest ofan unoffending people has given thee any right to demand it. Icannot betray the cause for which my father bled and died, or allymyself to my mother's murderers. You have acquitted me of deeperguilt. I can now die for my country without shame."
The Conqueror heard him patiently to the end.
"Thou knowest, then, thine inevitable fate?"
"I accept it. Ye have robbed me of all which made life worthliving."
"Thou must die, then: but we spare thee torture or mutilation.Prepare to meet the headsman within the castle yard, at the thirdsun-rising after this day--
"and, my lord of Coutances, since you have taken so much interestin this young English rebel, we charge thee with the welfare of hissoul."
And the court broke up.
