Du Mor. I was your father’s friend—
I knew them well.
Rai. (thoughtfully.) The weight of gloom that hangs—
The very banners seem to droop with it—
O’er some of those old rooms! Were we there now,
With a dull wind heaving the pale tapestries,
Why, I could tell you——
[Coming closer to Du Mornay.
There’s a dark-red spot
Grain’d in the floor of one—you know the tale?