Hugh rose from his seat, and walked twice across the room, then shook his head with a grieved and sorrowful expression, replying, "Ashby, you are wrong; but I, on my part, must say no word to shake your resolution. As you judge best, so must you act, but I go to the field with a heart free from wrong; sad, bitterly sad, that I am forced to draw the sword against a man whom I would fain take to my heart with love;--sad, bitterly sad, that whether I live or die, a charge I have not merited brings sorrow upon me. But, as I have said, I will urge no motive upon you to change your purpose; only hear me, Alured, when I call God and all the holy saints to witness, that the thought of injuring your father by word or deed never could cross my mind--that I am, in short, as guiltless of his death as the babe unborn!"
"I believe you--I do believe you, indeed," said the young Earl.
"Well, then," replied Hugh, "I have a charge to give you, Alured. None can tell what the result of such a day as to-morrow may be. I go with my heart bent down with care and sorrow; your sister's love blunts my lance and rusts my sword--hatred of the task put upon me hangs heavy on my arm--and 'tis possible that, though mine be the righteous cause, yours the bad one, I may fall, and you may conquer. If so, there is a debt of justice which you owe me, and I charge you execute it--ay, as an act of penitence. Proclaim with your own voice the innocence of the man you have slain, seek every proof to show he was not guilty, and bring the murderers to the block--even should you find them in your own house."
The Earl covered his eyes with his hands, and remained silent for a moment, but then looked up again, saying, "No, no; 'tis I that shall fall. The penalty of my own rashness at first, the penalty of my own weakness now--for it is a weakness--will be paid by myself, Monthermer. I feel that my days are at an end; my death under your lance will clear you of the charge that I have brought against you, and yours will be the task to seek and punish the assassins of my father."
"And your sister?" said Hugh de Monthermer.
"I have seen her," replied her brother. "I have seen her, and told her my wishes and my will. Of that no more; only remember, Monthermer, that when to-morrow I call God to witness that my cause is just, the cause I mean is not my charge against you, but the defence of my own honour against the injurious suspicions of the world."
Hugh looked at him with a rueful smile. "Alas, Alured!" he said, "I fear the eye of Heaven will not see the distinction. Ask your confessor what he thinks of such a reservation. But if it must be so, so let it be!! Yet 'tis a strange thing that two men, most unwilling to do each other wrong, should be doomed by one hasty word to slaughter each other against conscience."
"Ay, so goes the world, Hugh," replied the Earl, "and so it will go too, I fear, till the last day. We must all do our devoir as knights."
Hugh de Monthermer remembered of his knightly oath and the true duties of chivalry, and he could not help thinking that the mere reputation of a lesser virtue was held to be of more importance than the great and leading characteristics of that noble institution. He said nothing, however; for he would not urge the Earl to forego his purpose, and he knew that reproach would irritate, but not change him.
"I grieve, Alured," he said, "that you feel it so; but as you are the mover in all this, with you must it rest. I can but defend my innocence as best I may."