"Rise up, my son," he said; "the holy father here tells me you bear
stirring news."
"My liege, he hath spoken rightly. I have to tell of rebellion and
sacrilege; our English vassals have risen against us, and my brave
father has fallen by their hands; our castle is in their holding,
and they have driven the brethren of St. Benedict homeless from
their monastery."
"And who has dared this deed?"
"Wilfred, son of the rebel who fell at Senlac."
"Wilfred of Aescendune! I remember the stripling when he sought his
father's corpse on the battlefield, but had heard that he had lost
his life in the fire which consumed the monastery."
"Nay, sire, he had fled to the rebels, and we doubt not now that he
and the outlaws, with whom he found a home, fired the monastery,
themselves, to cover his flight."
"Tell me, then, what could have driven him to so violent a course,
and tell me truly; for some cause there must have been."
It must be remembered that, at this period, William had not given
up all hope of reconciling the English to his rule.
"I know no cause, sire, save--"
"Save what?" said he sternly, for Etienne hesitated.
"My liege, the lad, whom your royal will made the heir to the lands
my father had won by his services on the field of battle, never
lost his sympathy with the rebel rout around, or all had perhaps
been well; he struck me in defence of a churl whom I found stealing
game, and I challenged him to fight.
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