He knows all now: a day or two agone, when all the household had gone
to hunt in the woods, I was alone with him in his chamber, and thought
that at last I must discharge the painful task of telling him the
truth.

"My boy," I said, "you have not lately inquired about your father."

He looked at me very sadly.

"I know all," he said, "that you would tell me. I have no father, no
mother, no kinsfolk."

"Some of our people have told you then?"

"No. At first the events of that fearful night seemed all like a
dream, and mingled themselves with the strange spectres which haunted
me in delirium; but afterwards the real separated itself from the
unreal, and I knew that my father and all his friends, my Danish
uncles amongst them, had perished with the whole household assembled
there that fatal day. I also remembered, but faintly, how I came here.
Did not you save me from the murderers?"

I briefly explained the whole circumstances to him, adding such words
of consolation as I could think of, and telling him that he must
always look upon Aescendune as his home. At length he rose. He had not
replied.

"Pardon me, my father," he said, "but may I retire to my chamber? I
wish to say much, but I am too weak now."