"What, wretch! murderer! apostate blasphemer of the saints! didst thou murder Edmund, my brother Edmund, who was dear to me as Jonathan to David, seeing we were bound to each other by an oath! Thou didst stretch thy hand against the Lord's anointed, and thou shalt die the death.
"Cut him down! cut him down, Eric! cut him down, Hermann."
Eric stepped forward in an instant, and with his huge battle-axe cleft the unhappy traitor, who had fallen to his knees to obtain mercy, from the head to the shoulders.
"Throw the carcase out of window," cried the furious king; "let the fishes have the carrion. Never shall he find a grave, the vile regicide; and that he should think I would reward his guilt! Nay, I have served him as David did the Amalekite."
Eric and Hermann, between them, raised the corpse, and flung it, all bleeding and disfigured, into the Thames, the tide just running out beneath the walls.
I ought to write, "So let all thine enemies perish, O Lord!" But the awful doom of his unrepentant soul saddens me, much as he has hated me and mine.
Lent, 1018.--
A strange discovery has been made which interests us all greatly. At the time of Alfgar's trial at Oxford, Herstan fancied there must be a secret staircase communicating with Edmund's room, but sought it in vain. Now that Edric has avowed the deed, Hermann has obtained the king's permission to make a thorough search all through the house, and in the thickness of the huge stone chimney a secret staircase has been found, with a door opening through the thickness of the wall and panelling into the room in which Edmund slept, as well as another door opening into the banqueting hall, where Sigeferth and Morcar were murdered. It is all clear as day now. Edric must have entered the royal chamber from the banqueting hall in the dead of the night, and thus, when no human eye beheld, have accomplished his evil deed. Ah, well! he could not escape the eye of Him who has said "Vengeance is mine, I will repay."
Eastertide, 1018--
A son is born to Alfgar and Ethelgiva; and today, Low Sunday, they presented their babe to Him who said, "Suffer little children to come unto me." They have named him Edmund. The grandparents, both well and happy, were present; and the proud and happy father's eyes sparkled with joy over his little Edmund, glistening from the baptismal font. It fell to my happy lot thus to enrol the dear child amongst the lambs of Christ's fold. God grant him length of days here, and endless length of days beyond the skies when time shall be no more!