Again Kenneth nodded. A vague, numbing fear was creeping round
his heart, and his blood seemed chilled by it and stagnant.
With fascinated eyes he watched the knight's face - drawn and
haggard.

"It was a trap that Joseph Ashburn set for me. Yet he did not
altogether lie. The child Gregory had indeed spared, and it
seems from what I have learned within the last half-hour that
he had entrusted his rearing to Alan Stewart, of Bailienochy,
seeking afterwards - I take it - to wed him to his daughter, so
that should the King come to his own again, they should have
the protection of a Marleigh who had served his King."

"You mean," the lad almost whispered, and his accents were
unmistakably of horror, "you mean that I am your - Oh, God,
I'll not believe it!" he cried out, with such sudden loathing
and passion that Crispin recoiled as though he had been struck.
A dull flush crept into his cheeks to fade upon the instant and
give place to a pallor, if possible, intenser than before.

"I'll not believe it! I'll not believe it!" the boy repeated,
as if seeking by that reiteration to shut out a conviction by
which he was beset. "I'll not believe it!" he cried again; and
now his voice had lost its passionate vehemence, and was sunk
almost to a moan.

"I found it hard to believe myself," was Crispin's answer, and
his voice was not free from bitterness. "But I have a proof
here that seems incontestable, even had I not the proof of your