“This night!” said Dunstan, in surprise; “and how have you discovered this? Do not hesitate, my son tell me all.”
Thus adjured, Alfred repeated the whole story of his discovery of the concealed expedition.
“You saw the leaders closely then?” said Dunstan, when he had finished; “describe the elder one to me.”
“A tall dark man, like a foreign soldier, in plain but rich apparel, a scar on the right cheek.”
“Stay, my son, I know him; his name is Redwald, and he is the captain of the king’s bodyguard. Now describe the other with whom he held converse.”
“Father, I cannot.”
“My son—” but Dunstan paused, for he saw that poor Alfred had covered his face with his hands, and he at once divined the truth, with full conviction, at the same time, of the truth and earnestness of Alfred’s statement.
“My son, God can dispose and turn the hearts of all men as seemeth best to His wisdom; and I doubt not, in answer to our fervent prayers, He will turn the heart of your poor brother. Meanwhile, we ourselves will take such precautions as shall spare him the guilt of sacrilege.
“Brother Osgood, summon the prior to my presence, and cause the brethren to assemble, one and all, in the chapter house: we have need of instant deliberation.”
The lay brother departed, and Dunstan, whose cheerfulness did not desert him for one moment, chatted familiarly with Father Cuthbert, or perused the parchment the good father had just presented through Alfred.