By a very strange instance of the irony of fate, it was on Twala's own couch, and wrapped in Twala's own particular karross, that Sir Henry, the man who had slain him, slept that night.
Halabeharraren irri-mirri bitxi horietako batek eraginda, Twalaren ohean, eta Twalaren beraren karross-ean bilduta, egin zuen lo Sir Henryk, hura hil zuen gizonak.