“Was there a fastening to the outer door of the antechamber?”

“Yes; a strong bolt.”

“Could it be opened from the exterior?”

“It could not.”

“Was there any other entrance to the royal apartments?”

“None.”

The dagger was produced, and Elfwyn was examined.

“Do you recognise the weapon?”

“I do; it was Alfgar’s.”

“How do you recognise it?”

“It was richly carved about the handle.  The letter E is stamped upon it, with a crown.”

“Whence did the prisoner obtain it?”

“The king gave it him.” (Sensation.)

“Did you see it on the night of the murder?”

“I did.”

“Under what circumstances?”

“The accused held it dripping with blood in his hands, and said he found it sticking in the corpse.”

Other witnesses were also called to prove these facts.

The accused was then heard in his own defence, and he repeated with great simplicity and candour the circumstances so well known to our readers; and concluded: 

“I can say no more.  None who knew the love he bore me, and that I bore him, could suspect me.”

The bishop here spoke.

“It is my office,” said he, “by the canons of King Athelstane, to assist secular judges in purging away accusations, therefore I will ask the accused a few questions.”

“Had you any cause of suspicion against any other person—­anything to point out the doer of this evil deed?”

“All men loved him save one.”

“And who was that one?”

“He sits to judge me.”

“Nay,” cried the bishop, “we all beheld the reconciliation in St. Frideswide’s church.”

“The king himself was warned not to trust to the reconciliation.”

“By whom?”

“His brother sovereign.”

“Canute?”

And here Edric perceptibly changed colour.

“Even so.”

“Your proofs,” said the bishop—­“nay, my lord Edric, trust your reputation to the justice of God and the court.”

“The messenger from Canute, who came here on the vigil of St. Andrew.”

“Where is he?”

“He has returned to Canute,” said Elfwyn.

“Aught else?”

“Only I would bid you remember that the ealdorman Edric sought in like manner reconciliation with Elfhelm of Shrewsbury, and all men know what followed.”

Here Edric interrupted—­“I do not sit here to be judged, but to judge.  These accusations cannot be heard.”

“There is a judgment seat above where you will not be able to make that plea,” said the prisoner solemnly.

“Alfgar,” said the bishop, “this counter-accusation cannot be received; have you aught else to urge?”

“None.  I commit my cause to God.”

The court retired.

The pause was long and painful.  It afterwards transpired that the bishop pleaded in Alfgar’s favour, while Herstan ably seconded him; but all was in vain.  Edric’s eloquence, and the strong circumstantial evidence against the prisoner, carried the day, and the ealdorman even proposed that execution should be speedy, “lest,” he whispered, “Canute should interfere to screen his instrument.”