"Yes, of the murder of his aunt, the late lamented Lady of
Walderne."

"Good heavens!" cried the knight and mayor.

"Oh heaven and earth, this slander hear!" said Martin.

"Do not swear, it misbecomes a friar."

"Thou didst murder her thyself."

"Nay: who gave her the sleeping draught the last night? I have just
discovered that it contained poison supplied by the old witch who
lived here, and whom I have duly punished by fire. But whose hand,
administered it?"

Martin turned pale.

"I ask," continued Drogo, "who gave her the draught?"

"It was I, but who poisoned it?"

"Satan knows best, but thou hast owned it.

"I call thee to witness, most valiant knight, and thee, O Mayor of
Hamelsham, that you both hear him--confitentem mum, as Father
Edmund used to say at Kenilworth.

"Ah, I have him on the hip. Away with them to Walderne: the deepest