"Then, that was the son of Adolphus of Gueldres," rejoined the prisoner, "escaped from the hands of the sworders of the Duke of Burgundy, and flying to seek and find protection and concealment with his father's cousin, the Lord of Hannut. Such was the boy, and I am he."
"These things are very strange," said Albert Maurice; "and if you knew all that I know, you would say so. Most strange, indeed!" he muttered to himself, "that the bereaved father should become a second parent to the son of him who made him childless. But let your heart rest satisfied," he added aloud; "your father is well and safe; and you have not even an unconscious crime to reproach yourself with."
He spoke mournfully, and then fell into a deep, long fit of thought, from which he was only roused by the young cavalier demanding, whether the noble Lord of Imbercourt had been saved, after all?
What were the thoughts at that moment in the bosom of Albert Maurice--whether his mind rested painfully on the consciousness that he could no longer boast of a guiltless heart, and pondered, with all the bitter, wringing agony of crime, upon the blessed sweetness of innocence--can only be guessed; but an involuntary groan burst from the lips of the young citizen at the question of the prisoner, and he clasped his hands upon his eyes.
Removing them an instant after, he answered, gazing somewhat sternly upon his companion, "He died as he deserved."
Hugh of Gueldres replied not; but, feeble as he was, returned the stern glance of Albert Maurice with one still more severe and reproachful. The young citizen recovered himself, however, at once, banished the frown from his brow, and, for the moment, even stifled the regret within his bosom. "Let us not speak, my lord," he said, "on matters of painful discussion. The man you asked for, was tried and condemned by lawful judges, upon what they considered sufficient evidence. He suffered this morning according to his sentence. Suffice it, that I had no personal hand either in his doom or execution."
"Thank God for that!" said Hugh de Mortmar; "for I do believe that I should look upon even liberty as stained, if received from the hands of one who, for envy or ambition, could do two such noble men to death as died this day in Ghent."
The blood rushed violently up to the face and temples of Albert Maurice; and, for a moment, he felt so giddy, that he started up and leaned against the wall for support. What he had said was true, indeed, to the letter; but conscience told him, that he was not only an accessory, but a principal in the death of Imbercourt; and, though he had spoken truth, he nevertheless felt that he had deceived. There was again a bitter struggle in his bosom; but it was soon over, for the presence of another person shamed him into conquering the upbraidings of his own heart.
"Let us say no more on that subject, my lord," he rejoined, as soon as he had somewhat recovered his calmness. "It is a matter on which you and I cannot, I fear, agree. I am bound, in justice to the States of Flanders and the magistrates of Ghent, to say boldly, that I think they have done nobly, firmly, and well; and though I took no part in the act itself, yet the opinion of no man on earth will make me shrink from avowing, that I would have done the same. But all this has nothing to do with the feelings between you and me. Suffice it, that I owe you a deep debt of gratitude, which I am ready and willing to pay. You shall be instantly removed from this dungeon to a more convenient chamber, where you shall be tended with all care, till such time as you have recovered strength. If you will, your existence and your situation shall be immediately communicated to the Duke of Gueldres. But still, I think----"
"No, no," answered the prisoner, quickly; "no, no; if there be any other means whatever of obtaining my freedom, without revealing who I am, let me still remain concealed for a certain space. I know not well whether the news of my existence might, or might not, be well received. There are new plans and views abroad, I find, with which my appearance might interfere. My father, I hear, aims at the hand of the heiress of Burgundy."