Robert colored whether he would or not; but he excused himself by another lie.
"I did not know the precise hour, my lord duke," he answered; "Henry only gave me half his confidence. He would not even leave a letter, which he wrote to your grace, to my care. He acted in every thing for himself."
"Perhaps he did right," replied the duke, somewhat bitterly, for there was that in the young man's conduct and demeanor which did not please him--nay, which excited suspicions, just in themselves, though not very definite.
"I think it will be better, Mr. Woodhall." he continued, "for you to mount on horseback, as early as may be to-morrow morning, and break the tidings of this unfortunate affair to poor Lord Woodhall."
"I will go at once, my lord duke," replied Robert.
"That is needless," replied the duke, in a grave, melancholy tone; "you would but break in upon his rest. Do not rob an aged man of one night of calm repose that he can enjoy; do not add more hours of bitterness to the many bitter hours he must endure. I will write to him myself, by your hands, and you shall have the letter by the gray of the dawn to-morrow. That will be time enough."
"But will your grace take no means to cause the apprehension of the murderer?" demanded Robert Woodhall, with a look of well-assumed surprise.
"Murderer!" said the duke; "do you mean your cousin, sir?"
"He was my cousin, sir," replied Robert, a good deal nettled by the duke's tone, "but I shall regard him as my cousin no longer; and a man who drives another by his bad conduct to call him to the field, and then slays him, I can only look upon as a murderer, be he my cousin or not."
"That dead hand there," said the duke, pointing to the corpse, "wrote, while yet in life, a full exculpation of his adversary's conduct in the affair of the duel, at least. Ralph Woodhall was only acting, it would seem, as any man of honor would have acted, and those who best deserve the name of murderers are they who urge on petty quarrels to a fatal result."
"Your grace's opinion seems harsh of me," said Robert Woodhall, with feelings of rage he could hardly repress.
"I have not forgotten," replied the Duke of Norfolk, "that the first quarrel last night was between yourself and your cousin Ralph. What may have been your conduct since I do not pretend to say; but certain I am, that until Henry Woodhall quitted the supper-table, he and his cousin were upon the most friendly terms, and I am not aware that they met afterward until this last fatal occasion."