“Heregar, son of Herewulf the Thane, you are accused by honourable men of speaking evil of our Lord the King, Ethelwulf.  What answer have you to make to this charge?  And, moreover, you are further charged with conspiring against him—­can you answer to that charge?”

Then I was about to make loud and angry denial of these accusations, but that old guard of mine, who yet held my shoulder, gripped it tightly, and I remembered his words, so that in a flash it came to me that an innocent man need but deny frankly, as one who has no fear, and I looked Eanulf in the face and answered him.

“Neither of these charges are true, noble Eanulf; nor know I why they are brought against me, or by whom.  Let them speak—­there are those here who will answer for my loyalty.”

Now, as I spoke thus quietly, Eanulf’s brows relaxed, and I saw, too, that the bishop looked more kindly on me.  Eanulf spoke again.

“Know you not by whom these charges are brought?”

“Truly, I know not, Lord Eanulf,” I answered, “for no man may say these things of me, save he lies.”

“Have you enemies?” he asked.

“None known to me,” I told him truthfully, for I had, as my father, lived at peace with all.

“Then is the testimony of those against you the heavier,” said the ealdorman.

And with that he turned to the bishop before I could make reply; and they spoke together for a while in Latin, which I knew not.

So I looked to my friend Matelgar for comfort, but he seemed to see me not, looking away elsewhere.  And I thought him plainly troubled for me, for his face was white, and the hand on which his chin rested was turning the ends of his beard between his teeth, so that he bit it—­as I had seen him do before when in doubt or perplexity.

As I watched him, the bishop spoke in Saxon, saying that it would be well to call the accusers first and hear them, that I might make such reply as was possible to me.

“For,” said he, “it seems to me that this Heregar speaks truth in saying that he knows not his accusers.”

Then Eanulf bowed gravely, and all the circle was hushed, for a little talk had murmured round as these two spoke in private.

And now I will forbear, lest the rage and shame of it should get the mastery of me again, and I should again think and speak things for which (as once before, at the bidding of the man I love best on earth) I must do long penance, if that may avail.  For, truly, I forgave once, and I would not recall that forgiveness.  Yet I must tell somewhat.

Eanulf bade the accusers stand forward and give their evidence; and slowly, and, as it were, unwillingly, rose Matelgar, my friend, as I had deemed him, and behind him a score of those friends of his who had kept me company for long days on moor and in forest, and had feasted in my hall.

Again that warning grasp on my shoulder, and I thought that surely either I or they had mistaken the summons, and that my defenders had come forward.