“King Offa,” said I, “there is evil wrought by stealth here, and your thanes are not to blame.  Come with me, and you shall see that so it is, and you will learn the worst.  Keep your wrath for those who are not yet named.  It is true that Ethelbert has been slain this night; but he does not lie here.”

The king went back a pace from me and paled suddenly.  I did not know what he might do next, for I could not tell that this was but certainty to him of that which he had reason to fear.  But he kept a tight rein on himself, and in a moment spoke to me clearly, if in low tones.

“You are Carl’s messenger to Ethelbert, and therefore trusted by him.  You have no need to keep aught from me, nor do you fear me, as it seems.  Tell me plainly what has been done.”

I think that he had not understood that Ethelbert had been taken hence, and that he dreaded to look on him.  So I told him once more.

“Through the old passage which lies beneath his chamber men crept and slew Ethelbert.  Then they took him hence; whither we cannot tell.  It has been but chance that we have found it out before we went to call him in the morning.”

“Silently, without noise, was this wrought, then?” he said, as if he hardly believed it.

“So silently that if noise there was we could not tell it from the sounds of men about the house.  I pray you come and see what was planned.”

He hesitated for a moment, and then knew that go he must, sooner or later.

“So let it be,” he said.  “Bide here, you others.”

I turned, and led the way into the bedchamber.  There I stooped and opened the trapdoor, and held the torch so that the light fell into the pit, without a word.  He saw the fallen props, and the chair, and all else that told him the terrible tale.  And as he saw he reeled a little, and I caught his arm.  But he shook off my hand savagely.

“Tell me,” he said, between his teeth, “have you hunted for those who did this deed?”

“Such of us as might go have done so.  Your own door was not left unguarded, King Offa.  But the slayers had gone far hence swiftly.”

“An they were wise they would bide there,” he said grimly.

Now he was more himself, and his eyes sought the pit and the room for all he might learn.  I saw that he knew the spear of Gymbert, but he said nothing of it.  It came to my mind that to his dying day King Offa would not forget aught that his eyes lit on in that place.

“There shall be a reckoning for this,” he said at last, turning to me with a stern look on his face.  “Tell me, is it said that in this I have any part?”

“None have said it, King Offa,” I answered.

“They have but thought it,” he said; “that is what you mean.  Well, what is that to me?  Yet hereafter you shall tell Carl that in it I had no part.”

I bowed, and let that bide.  It seemed that to be thought still the messenger for whose return Carl would look might be some sort of a safeguard to me if things went ill.  Then Offa remembered somewhat.