deeply than even his bitterest foe, were it Arnulf himself, hath
power to hurt him."

The Barons were silenced, whatever their thoughts might be, and Abbot
Martin turned to Richard, whose tears were still dropping fast
through his fingers, as the thought of those last words of his father
returned more clearly upon him. The Abbot laid his hand on his head,
and spoke gently to him. "These are tears of a softened heart, I
trust," said he. "I well believe that thou didst scarce know what
thou wert saying."

"Forgive me!" said Richard, as well as he could speak.

"See there," said the priest, pointing to the large Cross over the
Altar, "thou knowest the meaning of that sacred sign?"

Richard bowed his head in assent and reverence.

"It speaks of forgiveness," continued the Abbot. "And knowest thou
who gave that pardon? The Son forgave His murderers; the Father them
who slew His Son. And shalt thou call for vengeance?"

"But oh!" said Richard, looking up, "must that cruel, murderous
traitor glory unpunished in his crime, while there lies--" and again
his voice was cut off by tears.

"Vengeance shall surely overtake the sinner," said Martin, "the
vengeance of the Lord, and in His own good time, but it must not be
of thy seeking. Nay, Richard, thou art of all men the most bound to
show love and mercy to Arnulf of Flanders. Yes, when the hand of the