witness. Edward's eyes were fixed on him, but evidently without
recognising his presence; the King's hands were outstretched, and he
cried aloud in a voice of sharp anguish:

"Sanguelac, Sanguelac!--the Lake of Blood!--the waves spread, the
waves redden! Mother of mercy--where is the ark?--where the Ararat?--
Fly--fly--this way--this--" and he caught convulsive hold of William's
arm. "No! there the corpses are piled--high and higher--there the
horse of the Apocalypse tramples the dead in their gore."

In great horror, William took the King, now gasping on his breast, in
his arms, and laid him on his bed, beneath its canopy of state, all
blazoned with the martlets and cross of his insignia. Slowly Edward
came to himself, with heavy sighs; and when at length he sate up and
looked round, it was with evident unconsciousness of what had passed
across his haggard and wandering spirit, for he said, with his usual
drowsy calmness:

"Thanks, Guillaume, bien aime, for rousing me from unseasoned sleep.
How fares it with thee?"

"Nay, how with thee, dear friend and king? thy dreams have been
troubled."

"Not so; I slept so heavily, methinks I could not have dreamed at all.
But thou art clad as for a journey--spur on thy heel, staff in thy
hand!"

"Long since, O dear host, I sent Odo to tell thee of the ill news from
Normandy that compelled me to depart."