Given in the infirmary of the house of St. Wilfred, in the month of May, 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 half brother, and a hateful oppressor of the poor English, rose up: 

“This letter does not afford any absolute proof of the guilt of our departed brother in arms, Hugo of Aescendune.  He may have bought the liquid; there is no proof he administered it—­people die of decline daily.”

“May I produce and question a witness before the court,” said Geoffrey, “in the absence of the prisoner?”

“Certainly,” replied William.

A signal was given to an expectant usher of the court.  Wilfred was led out, and in a few moments two wardens entered in charge of another prisoner.

He was tall and haggard; a long beard descended to his waist.  His peculiar nose—­the most marked characteristic of his race, long and beak-shaped, yet not exactly aquiline—­marked the Jew.  He looked anxiously 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 the rule—­of the other, the exception.”

“Thou dost not deny the accusation, which places thy life at the mercy of the court?”

“I will own all, and throw myself on its mercy, trusting that the relief I have oft afforded in bodily anguish, maybe allowed to atone, in its measure, for any aid my fears may have driven me to lend 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. and afterwards 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 and die.”

“What was the appearance of the poison?”

“Dropped in water it diffused at first a sapphire hue, but after exposure 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 do not lead me amongst the mighty of the land, save when they seek my humble shop.”

“Still thine offence, Jew,” said the stern voice of the Conqueror, “is a damnable one, and lendest itself readily to the purposes of crime.

“Let the unbeliever be removed in custody.

“My lord of Canterbury, he is a heretic—­perchance a sorcerer; let the Church see to him.”