Not on any account to let himself be drawn into a quarrel with Etienne.
"Thy father would feel as I do, dear son, were he in our place. Dost thou not see that we poor English only hold our own by sufferance, and that any pretext upon which they could seize would be used ruthlessly against us? Yes, thy death might be the result of any ill-timed quarrel, and thou mightest leave thy mother alone. Nay, dear, dear son, at least while thy mother lives."
"Oh, how can I?"
"Bear as a Christian, then, if thou canst not as an Englishman. The time will not be long that I shall live to implore thee."
"Nay, dear mother, surely thou art not ailing."
"Sick unto death, Wilfred, I fear; nay, but for thee I should say, I hope; for shall I not then rejoin thy dear father in a land where war and violence are unknown? But for thy sake, dear son, I would fain live."
Poor Wilfred was sobbing by her side, overcome by the blank vision thus opening before him. What would the world be to him, left alone amidst fierce and hateful foreigners, who had slain his father, and would willingly slay him?
"Mother, I cannot live without you. If you die--" and he could say no more, for it shamed his manhood to weep, as he would have said, "like a girl."
Poor lad, we must excuse him.
"Now, my dear Wilfred, wilt thou not renew thy promise, and pray God for help to keep it?"