"Thou ownest thy rebellion?"
"I own that I have fought against thy people and thee; but I have never sworn allegiance. Thou art not my rightful sovereign, and hence I do not acknowledge the guilt of rebellion."
There was a general murmur of indignation, which William repressed.
"Peace, my lords; peace, churchmen. We are not moved by a boy's rhetoric. The facts lie on the surface, and we need not enquire whether one is truly a rebel who was taken red-handed in the so-called 'Camp of Refuge;' nor do we deign to discuss those rights, which Christendom acknowledges, with our subjects. The question is this: Does the youth simply merit the lighter doom of a rebel, or the far heavier one of a parricide and a sacrilegious incendiary?"
"Parricide!" exclaimed the indignant prisoner. "My father, more fortunate than I, died fighting against thee at Senlac."
"Hugo of Aescendune and Malville was nevertheless thy father by adoption; and by the law of civilised nations, carried with that adoption the rights and prerogatives of a sire. But we waste time. Herald, summon the accuser."
"Etienne de Malville et Aescendune, enter!" cried the herald of the court.
And Etienne appeared, dressed in sable mourning, and bowed before the throne. He was pale, too, if that sallow colour, which olive-like complexions like his assume when wrought upon, can be called pale. He cast upon Wilfred one glance of intense hatred, and then, looking down respectfully, awaited the words of the Conqueror.
"Etienne de Malville, dost thou appear as the accuser of this prisoner?"
"I do."