"I will show you, my lord," replied Kate Greenly, "if you will follow me;" and she led the way up the stairs.
At the end of the first flight, the Earl paused, saying, "Is not Dickon here, that he comes not forth?"
Kate gave him no direct answer, merely replying, "This way, my lord--this way, sir."
"He must be ill," thought the Earl, "and she, too, is ill, that is clear. 'Tis some fever, belike. I have heard there is one in Nottingham."
At the top of the next flight, the girl laid her hand upon the latch of a rough door, formed of unsmoothed wood, holding the lamp so as to give the Earl light in his ascent. The moment after, she opened the door and entered, leading the way towards the foot of a small bed, by which was burning a waxen taper.
The Earl followed, murmuring, "This is a poor place," but raised his eyes as he approached the foot of the bed, and to his surprise, beheld the ghastly face of a dead man, stretched out, with a sprig of holly resting on his breast.
"Good Heaven!" he exclaimed.--"Who is this?"
"The murderer of your father!" replied Kate Greenly, without adding a word more.
Alured de Ashby clasped his hands, with deep and terrible emotion. His mind at the moment paused not to inquire whether the tale were true or false; but flashing at once through, his heart and brain came the feeling of wrath, even at the inanimate mass before him, for the deed that had been done, mingled with grief and anxiety at having charged it upon another, and the memory of all the embarrassments which that charge must produce.
"The murderer of my father!" he said, "The murderer of my father--Is that the murderer of my father!--Then Monthermer is innocent!"