It was impossible to recognise Delecresse as uncle instead of brother.
“Ay, child, wrong enough!” said Abraham sadly.
“Is he so ill, my father?”
“Ah, my Belasez, there is a leprosy of the soul, worse than that of the body. And there is no priest left in Israel who can purge that! Child, hast thou never wondered how Sir Piers de Rievaulx came to know of the damsel’s marriage—she that is the Lady’s daughter?”
“Margaret? I never could tell how it was.”
“It was Delecresse who told him.”
“Delecresse!”
“Ah, yes—may the God of Israel forgive him!”
“But how did Delecresse know?”
“I fancy he guessed it, partly—and perhaps subtly extracted some avowal from thee, in a way which thou didst not understand at the time.”