"Thou art, then, my uncle Wilfred I have so long been taught to think dead, for whom I have prayed many a time, for whom countless masses have been offered at St. Wilfred's shrine," said young Edward.
"Thou hast not, then, been taught to hate me?"
"No, indeed," said the boy; "why should I?"
"He knows nought of the quarrel between us, save what it is fitting that Edith's child should know," said Etienne. "It is well that upon this holiest spot on earth, whence the Prince of Life uttered the words which have floated through the ages--'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do'--that Etienne de Malville and Wilfred of Aescendune should become friends."
"It is, indeed."
"I have long been conscious that thou wast not alone to blame--that thou hast to forgive as well as I; but thou, like myself, hast long since, I am sure, earned the right to breathe the prayer, 'Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them that trespass against us.'"
Once more they grasped hands--Etienne still like one in a dream.
"Come now to my tent. There thou mayst tell me all the details of thy story, and I will tell thee news, unless this boy, my son and thy nephew, has anticipated me, of those thou didst leave behind thirty years ago in England. Thy sister Edith is my beloved wife, and in this boy Norman and Englishman meet together, the merits of each combined, the faults obliterated, if a father may be trusted."
And the friends, who once were foes, entered the tent of Etienne.