locket containing a solitary tress of grey hair, and once or twice the
word "Avenged" rose to his lips.

"And they little know," said he, soliloquising, "who the avenger is, or
what have been his wrongs; little know they how the dead is represented
in the halls of his sire--blind! blind! Whichever way the victory
eventually turn, he is avenged."

While he thus soliloquised he was aroused by the same noise which had
disturbed Father Cuthbert's devotions, and, recognising its source,
betook himself to the gateway, where some of his own soldiers were on
guard, who, true to discipline, awaited his permission to allow their
comrades to enter: it is needless to say it was readily given.

Broken and dispirited was the little troop of ten or a dozen men, who
first appeared in this manner after the fight; their garments torn and
bloody, some of them wounded, they yet raised a shout of joy as they saw
their trusted leader.

"Whence come ye, my comrades in arms?" said he, "and what are your news
--you look like men who have fled from battle."

"We did not fly till all was lost."

The countenance of Redwald indicated some little emotion, though it was
transient as the lightning's flash in the summer night.

"The king--is it well with him?"

"He has fled with a small troop to the south."