The brother, after giving way to such grief as was natural and fitting in one who loved his sister with his whole heart, asked the serving-woman who it was that had committed this terrible crime.

She replied that she did not know; but that no one had entered the room excepting her master, and he had but lately left it.  The brother then went to the gentleman’s room, and not finding him there, felt sure that he had done the deed.  So, mounting his horse without further inquiry, he hastened in pursuit and met with him on the road as he was returning disconsolate at not having been able to overtake the Grey Friar.

As soon as the lady’s brother saw his brother-in-law, he cried out to him—­

“Villain and coward, defend yourself, for I trust that God will by this sword avenge me on you this day.”

The gentleman would have expostulated, but his brother-in-law’s sword was pressing so close upon him that he found it of more importance to defend himself than to inquire the reason of the quarrel; whereupon each dealt the other so many wounds that they were at last compelled by weariness and loss of blood to sit down on the ground face to face.

And while they were recovering breath, the gentleman asked—­

“What cause, brother, has turned our deep and unbroken friendship to such cruel strife as this?”

“Nay,” replied the brother-in-law, “what cause has moved you to slay my sister, the most excellent woman that ever lived, and this in so cowardly a fashion that under pretence of sleeping with her you have hanged and strangled her with the bed-cord?”

On hearing these words the gentleman, more dead than alive, came to his brother, and putting his arms around him, said—­

“Is it possible that you have found your sister in the state you say?”

The brother-in-law assured him that it was indeed so.

“I pray you, brother,” the gentleman thereupon replied, “hearken to the reason why I left the house.”

Forthwith he told him all about the wicked Grey Friar, whereat his brother-in-law was greatly astonished, and still more grieved that he should have unjustly attacked him.

Entreating pardon, he said to him—­

“I have wronged you; forgive me.”

“If you were ever wronged by me,” replied the gentleman, “I have been well punished, for I am so sorely wounded that I cannot hope to recover.”

Then the brother-in-law put him on horseback again as well as he might, and brought him back to the house, where on the morrow he died.  And the brother-in-law confessed in presence of all the gentleman’s relatives that he had been the cause of his death.

However, for the satisfaction of justice, he was advised to go and solicit pardon from King Francis, first of the name; and accordingly, after giving honourable burial to husband, wife and child, he departed on Good Friday to the Court in order to sue there for pardon, which he obtained through the good offices of Master Francis Olivier, then Chancellor of Alencon, afterwards chosen by the King, for his merits, to be Chancellor of France. (5)