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 THE LIBRARY 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
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 How tlie Conqueror duals with Reljels.
 
 THE SIEGE 
 OF NORWICH CASTLE 
 
 A STORY OF THE LAST STRUGGLE 
 AGAINST THE CONQUEROR 
 
 BY 
 
 M. M. BLAKE 
 
 IVif/i II hi si rations hy the Author 
 
 NEW YORK 
 MACMILLAN c'l' CO. 
 
 1S93
 
 
 TO 
 
 MY FATHER 
 
 THIS STORY 
 
 IS 
 
 / 
 
 AFFECTIOXATEI.V 
 
 INSCRir.Kl) 
 
 171102-1
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I, THE StZEKAIX's 'XAV,' 
 
 II. LOVE OR LOYALTY, 
 
 III. JEST AND EARNEST, .... 
 
 IV. HORSE, HAWK, .\ND HOUNU, 
 V. NORMAN AND SAXON, 
 
 VI. THE ]!R1I)E-ALE, .... 
 
 VII. DELILAH SHEARS SA.MSON, . 
 
 VUI. KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY, 
 
 1\'. NORWICH, ..... 
 
 X. LANFRANC, ..... 
 
 XI. THE CASTELLAN OF KLAUNCHEFLOUR, , . 
 
 XII. THE STANDARD OF REVOLT, 
 
 Mil. sr. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER ! 
 
 XIV. HOW THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REHELS, 
 
 XV. 'O HKHI AMIUTION LOWLY LAID!' 
 
 XVI. WIFE OR WIDOW? .... 
 
 XVII. HOW RALPH CAME HOME, . 
 
 XVIH. UESIEGED, ..... 
 
 \IX. 'stone walls DO NOT A TRISON MAKI..' 
 
 PAGE 
 9 
 
 25 
 
 53 
 65 
 
 74 
 
 91 
 
 100 
 
 •13 
 127 
 
 139 
 
 14S 
 
 160 
 
 '73 
 1S9 
 
 206 
 
 234 
 244
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. 
 XX. A OUTRAN'CE, 
 
 XXI. THE ORDEAL KY FIRE, 
 
 XXII. A SUBTERRANEAN CONEEICT, 
 
 XXIII. HOW OLIVER DIED, 
 
 XXIV. FAMINE, 
 
 XXV. BRETAGNE, . 
 
 XXVI. CONCLUSION, 
 
 PAGE 
 256 
 
 272 
 299 
 
 3'3 
 327 
 336 
 
 AIT'ENDIX, 
 
 347
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 HOW THE CONQUKROR DEALS WITH REBELS, . . FrOlltispicCC 
 
 KMMA rn/OSIilCRN ACCEPTS 'I'HE TASSEL-GENTLE, . . 62 
 
 judith watches her sleeping spouse, . . .92 
 
 lanfkanc jesis wiih 1 he con()ueror, . ' . • i3o 
 
 wai;iheoe"s ihmii iation, . . . . • 136 
 
 iiisiiop ODO meets i)e guadek, ..... 17° 
 
 THE TOWER STAIR=, ...... IjS 
 
 THE RESCUE OE THE EARL, ..... I98 
 
 E.M.Ma's EIRST SIGHT OE THE EOE, .... 24O 
 
 THE lUG RAT HAS GONE INTO HIS HOLE, . . . 292 
 
 A WARREN.Ne! a WAKKENNE : EOR WILLIAM I HE NORMAN ! . 3OO 
 
 DE GUADER DONS THE CROSS, ..... 342
 
 THE 
 
 SIEGE OF NORWICH CASTLE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE suzerain's 'NAY.' 
 
 It was towards the close of tlie year of our Lord 1073. 
 As we now reckon, it would have been some vva\' into 
 1074, but in those old times they bci^an their tweKe- 
 month on March 25th. So, notwithstanding that the 
 daffy-down-dillies were pushing their grey-green blades 
 through the softening earth, and that the partridges 
 had chosen their mates for the season, it was the end 
 of 1073, and just before Piaster. 
 
 The fair Emma Fitzosbern, sister and ward of Roger, 
 Earl of Hereford, a }-oung damsel of splendid beautw in 
 whose h(jnour the chivalric champions of Normandy 
 and Bretagne were busy cracking each other's heads, 
 according to the fashion of the times, had followed the 
 example of the parlridges, and proniiscd her hand in 
 marriage. 
 
 The mate she had chosen was splcntlid and brave, 
 
 and, after the king, was equalled in power and wealth 
 
 1)
 
 lo THE SUZERAIN'S ' NAY: 
 
 but by two other men in all England. Ralph de 
 Guader or Wader had received the earldom of Norfolk 
 and Suffolk, and the post of Constable of Norwich Castle, 
 from the Conqueror, in return for his services at Hastings 
 and his prowess in beating back the Danes from the 
 eastern coast. 
 
 His father and grandfather had held lands in England, 
 and he claimed English blood when it suited his pur- 
 pose, being the only Englishman who bore the rank of 
 earl, save Waltheof Siwardsson, Earl of Huntingdon, 
 Northampton, and Northumberland ; but, to his shame 
 be it spoken, he was also the only Englishman against 
 whom it could be told that he fought on William's side 
 at Hastings. 
 
 He had been deprived of the lands of his father, Ralph 
 the Staller, the chronicles record not wherefore, but it 
 might well be that the house of Godwin, when they 
 wrought on King Eadward the Confessor, of sainted 
 memory, to drive his Norman favourites from the land, 
 included Ralph amongst them on account of his Breton 
 mother, whose influence, doubtless, inclined the lad to 
 love the folks from over the sea, and who would have 
 taught him to speak French and demean himself in 
 French ways, and, that so, a very bitter and personal 
 feud lay between him and Harold Godwinsson. 
 
 He had retired to his mother's estates of Guader and 
 Montfort, in Bretagne, and had returned thence with a 
 proud following of Breton knights and fighting men, 
 under William of Normandy's banner, making the 
 Norman invasion his opportunity to win back his
 
 THE SUZERAIN'S ' NA V.' 1 1 
 
 lands at the sword's point, and to gain other broad 
 acres with them. 
 
 In 1073, he, and the man whose brother-in-law he 
 wished to become, young Roger Fitzosbern, Earl of 
 Hereford, and Earl Waltheof, nephew -in -law to the 
 king, were the three most powerful nobles in the 
 country. Their estates almost met across England, 
 and, united together, they might have done much as 
 they wished with the kingdom. The Conqueror by no 
 means desired their closer alliance, as we shall see. 
 
 But to Ralph de Guader and Roger of Hereford 
 nothing seemed more reasonable and in every way 
 satisfactory than the union of their houses by marriage. 
 The former especially was wildly eager to cement their 
 friendship by this solid bond, for the very good reason 
 that he was deeply in love with the beautiful and 
 high-spirited Emma, and had carried her favour in tilt 
 and tourney with such determination and fury, that 
 champions were shy of accepting his challenge when 
 he took his place in the lists. 
 
 A slight hindrance had marred the progress of the 
 fia7icaitles. William, the Conqueror of England, was 
 also Duke of Normandy, and his restless vassals across 
 the straits were apt to get weary of his continued 
 absence in his new kingdom. Robert of Flanders, his 
 ancient enemy, in battle w ith whom lunma's father, the 
 famous William Mtzosbern, whom Holingshed calls the 
 king's coosine, had lost his life, was always ready to 
 foment any little disputes that might arise amongst 
 them, and King Phih'j) of h'rance had now joined the
 
 12 THE SUZERAIN'S ' NAYJ 
 
 troublesome Frisian hand and glove. So William 
 thought it wise to go in person to Normandy, to keep 
 guard over the movements of the twain. 
 
 Of course the marriage could not take place until the 
 king's consent was obtained, and messengers had been 
 despatched to Normandy by the two earls, praying his 
 consent. 
 
 Their return was more than due, and was awaited 
 with some anxiety, as Lent was so near at hand, during 
 which, according to the Roman Church, no marriage 
 could take place. However, travelling in those days 
 was very different to what it is in ours. The Channel 
 could not be crossed in all weathers and all winds, and 
 it was supposed that unfavourable breezes detained the 
 messengers. Not for a moment was there any doubt 
 that the answer, when it did come, would be in the 
 affirmative. Permission had been asked merely as a 
 matter of form. 
 
 Meanwhile, every effort was made to entertain the 
 guests at Hereford Castle, and to prevent the time of 
 their prolonged sojourn from hanging heavy on their 
 hands. 
 
 In Domesday Book there figures a certain Adelina, a 
 female juggler, as having received lands in the county of 
 Hants, having previously enjo}-cd fee and salary from 
 one Roger, a Norman earl. 
 
 The talents of this lady were in requisition, and, a 
 heavy downpour of rain and sleet having rendered out- 
 door sports unpleasant, a large company of knights and 
 ladies were watching her agile movements and ingenious
 
 THE SUZERAIN'S '' NA IV 13 
 
 deceptions ; shouts and ripples of laughter testifying to 
 their appreciation of her cleverness. 
 
 She performed at one end of the great banqueting- 
 hall, and was clad in a scarlet dress made Eastern 
 fashion, having a gold-broidered jacket of the shape we 
 are accustomed to call Zouave, with loose trousers, and 
 slippers turned up at the toes ; she wore a turban upon 
 her head, from beneath which her long black hair 
 streamed unconfined to her waist, around which she 
 wore a girdle of snake-skins; her bare arms were covered 
 with bangles, and in her hand she held a wand on which 
 a child's skull took the place of the Punch's head which 
 adorns the staff of a Polichinello. 
 
 She had for assistants two brown-skinned, almond- 
 eyed, white-toothed boys, evidently of Moorish origin, 
 and active as the leopards, whose skins they wore, had 
 been when alive in their native jungle ; and the bowls, 
 spheres, and other appliances she used were marked 
 with cabalistic signs in the Arabian alphabet. Evidentl}-, 
 whether or no she was herself of Moorish blood, she 
 had learned her trade from the jugglers of the East, 
 whose skill therein still surpasses all others. 
 
 In those days the dark-skinned races were identified 
 with Antichrist, and the entertainment therefore 
 afforded that flavour of the forbidden which seems so 
 necessary to the enjoyment of some folks. A gibbering 
 monkey, which perched on her shoulder, and performed 
 strange antics at her bidding, alternately with wild 
 freaks of mischief of its own invention, added to the air 
 o'i diablerie \\\\\c\\ made the exhibition attractive.
 
 14 THE SUZERAIN'S 'NAY: 
 
 The young Earl of Hereford, his countess, and their 
 two little sons, were foremost among the spectators, the 
 earl laughing heartily at the tricks of his favourite, and 
 rewarding her skill with praise and largesse when any 
 special feat called forth the applause of the guests. 
 
 Tall and commanding in figure, his face, clean-shaven 
 after the Norman fashion, was both proud and weak, 
 the features handsome, clear-cut, aquiline, but the chin 
 receding too greatly to betoken a strong character. 
 His dress was of the richest, his tunic of tawny samite, 
 sewn thickly with gems, and his long cloak lined with 
 costly furs, his earl's coronet on his brow. 
 
 Beside him sat his beautiful sister, in whose honour 
 all the guests were assembled ; — like him, yet showing, 
 in spite of all feminine grace and softness, signs of that 
 strength of will in which he was deficient. Her features, 
 like his, were clear-cut and aquiline, but the full round 
 chin stood out boldly from the white, flawless throat, 
 unadorned by any necklace save the delicate crease 
 which Nature had marked on it, and which some folks 
 call Venus' necklace. Her auburn hair was simply 
 braided in two long plaits, and hung below her waist, 
 and was bound by a fillet of goldsmiths' work. Her 
 arched brows were almost black, and the dark -blue 
 eyes beneath them were full of gentleness and fire. Her 
 tightly-fitting green kirtle was rounded at the base of 
 the slender neck and edged with drawn lawn, and 
 showed the graceful contour of her young figure ; 
 and her embroidered skirt, which bad been 'looted' by 
 her noble father from the house of some rich Saxon
 
 THE SUZERAIN'S 'NAY: 15 
 
 in his Hastings campaign, bore witness to the artistic 
 powers of the Saxon ladies, and also to their industry, 
 for its subtly blended hues had taken years of labour 
 to produce, and such skill as was possessed only by the 
 women of their nation. 
 
 Standing near her, with his hand upon her chair, was 
 the hero of the occasion. Ralph de Guader's Breton 
 mother had Southern blood in her veins, and he had 
 inherited from her a swart complexion, coal-black hair 
 which curled crisply on his well-formed head, and the 
 hawk nose and pointed chin which is common in 
 Brittany now, though the Bretons of that day had for 
 the most part the characteristics of the red-haired, blue- 
 eyed Celts, who had left Wales but a short time before. 
 From his English father he had inherited a pair of keen 
 grey eyes, hawk-like as the nose between them, and 
 deep .set under cavernous brows, black, and somewhat 
 given to frowning. 
 
 His figure was firmly knit, broad-shouldered, but not 
 very tall, and his apparel was as brave as that of his 
 brother earl, his tunic being of ivory silk edged with 
 sable and wrought with gold thread, and the baldric 
 blazed with jewels which supported his iiiisericorde, or 
 dagger of mercy, — a weapon always worn by a Norman 
 noble, and serving to put his wounded enemies out 
 of misery, — whence its name, — to protect him from 
 treachery, and to carve his meat and that of the lady 
 he 'took in ' to dinner withal. 
 
 The deft Adelina had swallowed swords, and made 
 snakes dance to her piping, and produced intact bracelets
 
 1 6 THE SUZERAIN'S ' NAY: 
 
 which had seemed to be utterly crushed to powder 
 before the spectators' eyes, and had danced herself with 
 marvellous agility and grace, and, in short, had per- 
 formed many feats which have been rivalled before and 
 since by jugglers ancient and modern, when a young 
 baron stood forth and said to Earl Roger, — 
 
 ' I have heard, my lord, that yonder Paynim witch 
 hath shrewd skill to read the stars. I prithee, command 
 her that she may tell the fates of those who list to know 
 what shall befall them.' 
 
 Then Adelina turned round swiftly, so that the 
 gibbering monkey, which sat on her shoulder, sprang 
 down with a screech. 
 
 ' I prithee, Sir Earl,' she cried, ' give me no such order, 
 for the spirits I summon have a knack of telling the 
 truth, and there are fates in store for some folks they 
 would ill brook to hear. " Enough for the day is the 
 evil thereof." ' 
 
 ' Nay, take not to quoting Scripture, witch ; it hath an 
 awkward sound from thy graceless lips,' returned the 
 earl banteringly. ' 'Tis a left-handed compliment to 
 pay to the valour of any noble gentleman here, that 
 he should shrink to know the worst the devil can do 
 to him. Summon thy spirits ! I wager we will face 
 them.' 
 
 Adelina's brown face turned yellow as parchment, her 
 knees shook together for fear. 
 
 ' I beg thee, spare me, Sir Earl ! ' she entreated in a 
 low voice. 
 
 But her opposition on!)- raised the earl's obstinacy, of
 
 THE SUZERAIN'S ' NAY: 17 
 
 which, like most weak people, he had a large share, and 
 he insisted. 
 
 So Adelina gave orders to her attendant sprites, who 
 fetched her a big box, and a tripod with a metal mirror 
 above it, and a brazier hung from chains like a censer, 
 and a skull, and a tame raven. 
 
 And out of the box she dragged a huge, sluggish snake. 
 The creature rolled and writhed upon the floor in a 
 fashion that caused the ladies to scream and the kniehts 
 to lay hold of the hilts of their daggers ; but after a while 
 it rolled itself in a ring round the tripod, with its tail to 
 its head, and so lay still. 
 
 * Whoever hath courage to step within my magic 
 circle may learn the secrets of the future ! ' cried the 
 sorceress. 
 
 But the young baron who had been so eager to learn 
 his fate did not relish the conditions, and made no move. 
 
 Ralph de Guader, seeing his hesitation, stepped forward 
 out of sheer bravado, without having any particular desire 
 to know his fate, or belief in Adelina's power to tell it, 
 for he was happy, and all the future appeared to him 
 steeped in ros\' hues of hope. 
 
 ' Oh, Ralph, deal not with the Evil One ! ' cried Emma, 
 laying a restraining hand on his arm. 'Trust not that 
 horrible beast, I pray thee ! ' 
 
 Ralph gave some careless excuse, and Emma accepted 
 it ; for, to say truth, her young head was full of fiery 
 ambition, and her curiosity was great to know what 
 honours her splendid lover would win for her in the days 
 to come. William of Normandy had carved a throne
 
 1 8 THE SUZERAIN'S ' NA V: 
 
 with his sword for Matilda of Flanders ; who knew what 
 Ralph de Guader's good blade might carve for her? 
 Everything seemed possible in those days. 
 
 So the Earl of the East Angles stepped down from 
 the dais to the end of the great hall, where the sorceress 
 stood, and stepped across the spotted body of the snake 
 into the charmed circle it enclosed, bidding Adelina 
 summon her allies, be they fair or foul. 
 
 But not without remonstrance from the fortune-teller. 
 
 ' Pause, De Guader and Montfort, Earl of Norfolk and 
 Suffolk ! Thy head is heaped with honours, and thy 
 hands are full of fat manors, and — best of all gifts ! — 
 the heart of the fairest lady in the hall is openly- 
 bestowed on thee ! What more canst thou ask of the 
 future? Take what thou hast, and go barefoot to the 
 chapel and thank the white Christ for His bounty ! Stay 
 thy questioning, lest what thou hast shall be reft from 
 thee ! ' 
 
 ' A brave man defies fortune,' answered De Guader, 
 tossing back his dark head proudly. 
 
 ' Then if the prophecy be not to thy liking,' returned 
 Adelina, ' if the spirits foretell evil days, I pray thee 
 blame not their mouthpiece.' Her agitation was extreme, 
 which was not surprising, as the fierce nobles of those 
 days were apt to deal harshly with the messengers of 
 unpleasing news. 
 
 She chanted a wild incantation, dancing round the 
 tripod and the earl, and swung her censer to and fro 
 till it gave forth strange fumes and clouds of smoke, by 
 which her face and the earl's were veiled from the
 
 THE SUZERAIN'S ' NA I'.' 19 
 
 spectators. Now and again her turbaned head was seen 
 through the vapours, her eyes intently fixed on her 
 mirror, but none could tell what was passing. 
 
 Presently the earl returned to the dais with a some- 
 what white face. Emma's eyes were bent upon him 
 with anxious inquiry. 
 
 ' She has promised me that which I covet most, dear 
 lady,' whispered De Guader in answer to her look : ' my 
 bridal with thee is to come to fulfilment. I am to pass 
 my life with thee, and die with thee, near the blessed 
 city of Jerusalem.' 
 
 'The Holy Virgin be praised!' answered Emma 
 devoutly ; ' and pardon thee for asking the future, if sin 
 be in it.' Then, recognising the admission she had made 
 by acknowledging her joy in the prophecy, she blushed 
 and turned away from De Guader's happy eyes, 
 
 'Aha! sister of mine, it seems my sorceress has 
 pleasured thee with her prophecies,' remarked Earl 
 Roger. ' I will see if she can be equally gracious to me.' 
 'Thou hadst best brace thy nerves for a shock, man,' 
 cried De Guader after him as he left the dais. 'Those 
 spirits have verily a knack of telling home truths with- 
 out mincing matters.' 
 
 Adelina's agitation increased when she saw her master 
 appearing as the next candidate. She trembled from 
 head to foot. 
 
 ' I prithee spare me this, Roger Eitzosbcrn,' she said 
 in a scarce audible voice. But the earl insisted. 
 
 Then followed the same preliminaries as before, — the 
 dance, and the chant, and the smoke-wreaths, then
 
 20 THE SUZERAIN'S 'NAY: 
 
 the whispered mysteries. But this time sharp, angry 
 interjections and round Norman oaths were mingled 
 with the murmurings of Adelina's voice, and all at once 
 the unhappy fortune-teller threw up her bangled arms 
 and fell backwards fainting, while the Earl of Hereford, 
 with an angry stamp, broke out of the charmed circle 
 and rushed back to his seat. 
 
 Adelina's neophytes ran forward to the rescue, for her 
 garments had caught fire from the censer, and all was 
 bustle and confusion. The huge snake lav calmlv 
 through it, however, for, to say truth, it was stuffed, and 
 worked with wires. 
 
 The Countess of Hereford sprang up to greet her 
 lord, and the two little boys burst out a-wailing, sore 
 frightened at their father's altered face, while Enima 
 also rose to greet her brother with terror in her eyes, 
 trembling at the evidence he gave that evil had been 
 foretold him. 
 
 But he soon regained his calmness, and laughed 
 as he saw the reflection of his mood in their agonised 
 faces. 
 
 ' Pah ! it is all nonsense ! ' he said, wiping the sv/eat 
 from his brow. ' I believe the witch must be in league 
 with the devil to have so wrought on me.' 
 
 He looked round the hall, and gave another forced 
 laugh. 
 
 ' I am to lose all my lands, to be despoiled of my 
 earldom, and die in prison, she says.' 
 
 The ladies exclaimed in horror, and the men laughed 
 derisively; but Earl Ralph's jester, Grillonne, whispered
 
 THE SUZERAIN'S ' nay: 21 
 
 sagely to his neighbour, ' Good nuncle ! when they 
 promised me a swishing at school, I made effort to 
 keep it to myself. But I am a fool' 
 
 No one seemed inclined to consult such a fortune- 
 teller for his own part, and the Earl of Hereford ordered 
 a Welsh minstrel, who had been sent him in compliment 
 by one of the Welsh chiefs on the Marches, whom 
 Hereford had lately beaten and made terms with, to 
 regale the company with some of his ballads. 
 
 At this juncture a great shout was heard from the 
 castle-yard, and a moment later a servitor announced 
 the return of the messenger who had been sent to the 
 king ; and, the Earl of Hereford bidding him enter, a 
 knight and squire, travel-stained and showing signs of 
 a hasty journey, advanced up the hall and bowed before 
 the dais. 
 
 The knight dropped on his knee, and presented the 
 earl with a missive tied with purple silk and sealed with 
 the royal seal. 
 
 ' How now, Sir Neel ! how comest thou so tardily ? ' 
 demanded tlic earl, taking the letter from the knii^ht 
 with eager hands and severing the silk with his 
 dagger. 
 
 ' I was detained, my lord, at Rouen to wait the king's 
 good pleasure.' 
 
 The faces of the two earls darkened, and Roger 
 Fitzosbern tore open the king's missive. 
 
 Scarce reading it, he flung it to Dc Guader with a 
 savage oath, stamping his foot ujDon the ground. 
 
 'William shall rue this insult!' he hissed between his
 
 22 THE SUZERAIN'S 'NAY: 
 
 shut teeth, his face scarlet and convulsed with rage ; 
 ' and to my father's son.' 
 
 De Guader, not less moved, held the parchment with 
 hands that so shook with anger that the dangling seals 
 clattered against each other. His broad chest heaved, 
 and his steel-grey eyes flashed fire as sword strikes fire 
 on helm. 
 
 Emma, with pale cheeks and wide eyes, turned from 
 her brother to her lover, and the East Anglian earl, 
 exercising a huge command over himself, kept silence, 
 and returned the letter to Roger Fitzosbern. 
 
 Hereford shook it in the air, clenching his fingers, 
 while all the guests hung wonderingly on his actions. 
 
 Suddenly he tore the king's letter into fragments. 
 
 ' Thus has William rent in sunder the ties that bound 
 me to him ! ' he shouted furiously. 
 
 Osbern, Bishop of Exeter, the Earl of Hereford's 
 uncle, who, though he had refused the sanction of his 
 presence to the performances of Adelina, had entered 
 the hall when the king's messenger arrived, made his 
 way through the noble crowd that surrounded his 
 nephew. 
 
 ' Hist, my Roger ! Anger is short madness. Keep a 
 hold over the unruly member, lest words spoken in wrath 
 be thy bane in time of peace. I know not the contents 
 of the missive that hath moved thee so greatly, but I 
 prithee be calm.' 
 
 ' Calm ! ' cried Roger. ' Calm ! De Guader, art thou 
 calm ?' 
 
 ' Yes,' answered De Guader shortly, his breath break-
 
 THE SUZERAIN'S ' NAV: 23 
 
 ing in quick pants, and a strange green light not 
 pleasant to witness gleaming in his eyes, so that all who 
 saw him felt that his calmness was more terrible than 
 Roger's fury. 
 
 'Then, by the rood! if thou art so calm," retorted 
 Hereford, ' tell my guests how they have been befooled 
 Tell my sister she has bestowed her hand on one who 
 can resign it "calmly."' 
 
 ' My son, my son,' remonstrated the bishop, 'thou art 
 unjust to thy noble brother, whose stake in this matter 
 is even greater than thine.' 
 
 ., ' Nay, my brother he is forbid to be ! ' stormed Roger, 
 with another terrific curse. 
 
 De Guader turned to the beautiful girl to whom he 
 had come to bind himself in solemn betrothal, and who, 
 having accepted his wooing, had made no secret of her 
 love. 
 
 His face was pallid almost as his ivory robe, his lips 
 trembled as he held out his hands to her, but for some 
 moments he was dumb. When at last he compelled 
 speech, his voice was dull with pain and quivering w ith 
 measureless indignation. 
 
 'My lady,' he said, holding one of her hands in each 
 of his, but not trusting himself to look in her face, ' I 
 must bid thee farewell. I have no right to remain 
 lonecr in this castle. The kincr has forbidden our 
 marriage. I had hoped to make thee my bride. Bride 
 of my heart thou wilt alwa)-s be ! ' 
 
 Before the startled, frightened girl could frame a reply, 
 he had stooped and kissed lur, sprung from the dais,
 
 ■24 THE SUZERAIN'S 'NAY: 
 
 and was striding down the hall, with the many barons 
 and bannerets, knights and squires, who formed his 
 meinie, following behind him. 
 
 The Countess of Hereford led her young sister-in-law 
 from the hall ; while the remainder of the noble company, 
 feeling their presence somewhat awkward, as guests at 
 a betrothal which could not be consummated, found 
 excuses to depart, and gathered into clusters, each lord 
 summoning his following and the ladies of his house- 
 hold. 
 
 So that goodly company broke up in hurry and con- 
 fusion and dismay, and the insult the king had inflicted 
 on his two powerful earls was the talk of every mouth.
 
 CHAPTKR II. 
 
 LOVE OR LOVALTV. 
 
 Shortly after Easter, on the da}- that would have 
 been her weddhig-day, Emma Fitzosbern sat in her 
 bower in Hereford Castle, looking dreamily at the 
 misty outlines of the distant Welsh hills, behind 
 which the sun was setting in golden splendour. Her 
 favourite bower - maiden sat on a low stool at her 
 feet, and the glory of the sunset poured over the grace- 
 ful figures of the two girls, and gilded the maundrj- 
 work of rushes at their feet and the rich tapcstr\- 
 which covered the walls around them, while the 
 gorgeou.s clouds were piled into battlemented towers, 
 mocking with their vapoury illusion the solid masonry 
 below them. 
 
 Emma's companion was looking up at her face w iih 
 an expression of tender love and sympathy. She was a 
 girl of seventeen, some four years younger than her lad\-, 
 and wore the Saxon headrail ; the little rings of hair 
 which escaped from its close cover were of Saxon gold, 
 while her pale blue robe was made in the fashion of that 
 nation, full and flowing, with large, hanging sleeves. The 
 girdle with which it was bound was ornamented with 
 
 25
 
 26 LOVE OR LOYALTY. 
 
 jewels, and the hems were edged with fur. Her face 
 was less animated and striking than that of the noble 
 Norman, but had a winsome beauty of its own, the blue 
 eyes frank and affectionate, and the rounded features 
 not wanting in character. 
 
 An embroidery frame stood before them; for though 
 Eadgyth of Norwich had Hved in a Norman household 
 since she was ten, she had perseveringly acquired the 
 special accomplishment of her countrywomen in spite 
 of difficulties, and Emma fitfully worked at it also under 
 her guidance. 
 
 Eadgyth was a cousin in some sort, second or third, 
 perhaps, to Harold Godwinsson, and made it a point of 
 honour to keep his memory green, though she had grown 
 to love dearly the generous Norman maiden, who treated 
 her more as a sister than a dependent. 
 
 Many relatives of Harold had property in Norwich, 
 and when Ralph de Guader had received his earldom of 
 Norfolk and Suffolk, which Harold's death on the field 
 of Senlac had rendered vacant, he had taken pity on the 
 forlorn condition of the little damsel, whose male relatives 
 had been slain in the contest, and who was thus left 
 without protection from the insolent conquerors. De 
 Guader had been amused by the patriotic defiance the 
 bereaved maiden of ten had flung at him, rating him as 
 a renegade and a murderer, with other terms of equal 
 politeness which had sounded oddly from her flower- 
 like mouth, and perhaps his conscience smote him, and 
 told him they were not untrue. Her courage moved 
 his admiration and generosity, and, having no women-
 
 LOVE OR LOYALTY. 27 
 
 folk of his own to whom he could confide her, he 
 had induced William Fitzosbern the Norman Earl of 
 Hereford, to take her into his castle as a playmate 
 and lady - in - waiting for his daughter Emma. So 
 began a companionship which was to endure for their 
 li\-es. 
 
 The tide of sad reflection was flooding Emma's heart 
 to the brim. Since the cruel day on which the king's 
 mandate had been received, the subject of her interrupted 
 betrothal had been buried in dead silence. Her brother 
 and guardian, the )oung Earl of Hereford, had set out 
 on a journey a day or two later, but had left even his 
 wife in ignorance of its aim and direction. lunma, on 
 her own part, had shrunk from speech. Her wounds 
 were too sore to bear the probing even of those who 
 loved her. But at length, on this bright May evening, 
 she spoke. 
 
 'This was to have been my wedding-day, Eadg)'th,' 
 she said. 
 
 A cloud of scornful anger passed over the face of the 
 Saxon girl, and her blue eyes flashed. 
 
 ' So William of Normandy has ruined both our li\'es ! ' 
 she said hotly, her young voice quivering with passion. 
 ' I would that the earth had opened and swallowed him 
 up when he first set foot on ICnglish ground, instead of 
 only catching him by the ankle, to enable him to make 
 a jest and find a good omen ! " 
 
 Emma bent down, laughing, that she migiit not cr)-. 
 
 'Hush!' she said; 'little rebel, thou art talking 
 treason ! '
 
 28 LO]-E OR LOYALTY. 
 
 'Nay,' returned Eadgyth, 'for I have never vowed 
 fealty.' 
 
 'Ah, well,' answered Emma, sighing, 'my forbears 
 have fought for William's forbears for generations ! It 
 is bred in my blood to be obedient to him. He would 
 never have been King of England, had not my father 
 lavished wealth and activity, and roused the barons and 
 the burghers by example and ruse.' 
 
 'A fine reason, truly, for making thy father's daughter 
 miserable,' quoth Eadgyth. ' Nevertheless, if thou art 
 bred to obedience, it seemeth not less irksome to thee ! 
 Perhaps it is because he owes the keeping of the English 
 crown to the valour with which Ralph de Guader beat 
 back the Danes, that he thwarts ///;// .' Not that I can 
 Sparc any pity for Ralph. If he had not played m\- 
 cousin Harold false, how different all things might have 
 been. He, the grand-nephew of the sainted King 
 Eadward ! It seems a just retribution that William 
 should thwart him.' 
 
 ' On my part, I cannot account it a crime in Ralph to 
 have sided with my countrymen,' Emma said, with a 
 gentle smile ; 'but wc cannot look on those things with 
 the same eyes.' 
 
 ' No ; I think it is perhaps a good thing that thou 
 sittest here, instead of being Ralph de Guader's bride, 
 though I had lief have gone w ith thee to my dear old 
 Norwich,' said Eadgyth. ' My dear old Norwich ! ' she 
 repeated, with a sigh. ' I should scarce know it again, 
 with its fine new castle, and its streets full of Normans 
 and Bretons, and foul, greedy Jews.'
 
 L VE OR L0\ Vi LTY. 29 
 
 'Oh, Eadgyth ! Eadgyth ! I will ha\-e no more to 
 say to thee, if thou takest part against my knight ! ' said 
 Emma, withdrawing her hands and folding them on her 
 lap. 
 
 'I did not mean to wound tlice, Emma!' exclaimed 
 the Saxon, clasping both hands affectionately round 
 Emma's right arm. ' I must needs be grateful to the 
 earl, since I owe to him my happy home with thee. 
 Yet,' she added sadly, ' forgive me if I cannot quite for- 
 get that such a refuge would not ha\e been needful to 
 me, if he had been firm to the Dragon standard. Disguise 
 it as thou wilt, I am but thy servnng-maidcn,' 
 
 'When I striv^e so carefully to disguise it, dost thou 
 think it generous thus to pull it forth to the light of 
 day?' asked Emma, and the tears, which she had till 
 then kept back with difficulty, would no longer be 
 restrained, and rolled rapidly down her cheeks. 
 
 'No, it is not generous!' cried Eadgyth, full of rutii. 
 ' And I am not worthy to lace thy shoe latchet ! Forgive 
 me, dear Emnia ! ' 
 
 As she spoke, the ring of a mailed footstep sounded 
 in the corridor without, and the door was uncere- 
 moniously opened, and gave entrance to the young Earl 
 of Hereford, clad in a whole suit of mail, but unhelmed. 
 
 'What! sitting in darkness, maidens?' and, turning 
 to a varlet with a torch, who had accompanied him to 
 the door, he took it from the lad's hold, and placed it 
 wiih his own hands in a sconce beside the hearth. ' 1 
 lo\c the light,' he said, laughing. ' Leave darkness to 
 the bats and owls,'
 
 30 ' LOl -E OR LOYALTY. 
 
 Emma had risen, and ran to him gladly, kissing him 
 on the cheek. ' Oh, Roger ! ' she said, ' I am so glad of 
 thy return I ' 
 
 But the joy that had come into her face at his unex- 
 pected appearance did not dry the tears which she had 
 forgotten to wipe away in her surprise, and he saw them. 
 
 ' Tears, Emma, tears ? What ! is my little sister weep- 
 ing?' he asked in a tone that was half banter, half 
 tenderness. ' This is a thing that must be inquired into. 
 I can have no weeping damsels in castle of mine.' 
 
 'Eadgyth and I were quarrelling,' said Emma gaily, 
 ' because we were so lonely in thine absence, and could 
 find nothing better to do.' 
 
 ' By the mass ! that won't serve thee for an excuse, 
 Emma,' answered the earl ; then, taking her hands and 
 looking searchingly in her face, he said somewhat sternly, 
 as if to compel an answer, ' Art thou fretting at the 
 breaking of thy troth wiih Ralph de Guader?' 
 
 Emma turned away blushing from his scrutiny. 
 
 'The wound is fresh yet, Roger!' she said. 'It will 
 bleed. Time will perchance heal it.' 
 
 'And by all the saints! a very short time too!' said 
 Hereford triumphantly. ' Thou shalt plight a new troth 
 to-night.' 
 
 Emma started with apprehension. In those days, 
 damsels of rank were often disposed of in marriage by 
 their male relatives with very little regard to their 
 prejudices or affections, a girl's whimsies appearing of 
 small consequence in their eyes beside the importance of 
 a good political alliance, and Emma feared lest her
 
 LOVE OR LOYALTY. 3' 
 
 brother might uitcnd to demand a summary transference 
 of her affections. Hitherto, it was true that the young 
 earl had been tender and indulgent, and had regarded 
 her wishes the more readily perhaps in this matter, that 
 Ralph de Guader, the powerful Earl of East Anglia, was 
 the very man of all others to suit his views of a desirable 
 brother-in-law. But Emma knew him to be both im- 
 pulsive and obstinate, and visions of a fierce struggle 
 with him, ending in the cloister, the haven of refuge for 
 women in those days, passed through her mind. 
 
 The earl, however, took no notice of her trepidation. 
 ' Come,' he said, and led the way down the wide stone 
 staircase. Emma followed trembling, and wondering 
 what ordeal was before her. They entered a small room 
 set apart near the great banqueting-hall, which was the 
 earl's special sanctum. 
 
 The next moment she fcnnid herself with her two 
 hands clasped in those of Ralph dc Guader, while he 
 was looking down at her with a hunger of entreaty in 
 his eyes ; and in the minds of both was the unspoken 
 thought, that if all had gone well the)' would have been 
 husband and wife that day. 
 
 The revulsion from apprehension to jo)' was so great 
 as to be almost a pain. 
 
 ' Is it thou indeed, Ralph ? ' she faltered ; and the 
 young Earl of Hereford laughed. 
 
 'Didst think I had brought home an ogre to be my 
 beau-frere' he asked, ' that thou wast so sore afraid ? ' 
 
 Emma turned anxiously to De Guader. 
 
 ' The king, then, has relented ? ' she said quickly. ■ in
 
 32 LOVE OR LOYALTY. 
 
 sooth, I doubted not his heart would soften. He could 
 not be so cruel as to part us ! ' 
 
 De Guader shot a questioning glance at Hereford. 
 ' Plead thine own cause, valiant knight 1 ' said Roger 
 a little sarcastically. ' I was never a maker of speeches, 
 and, by the Holy Virgin ! thy eloquence has twisted me 
 round thy little finger. See if thou canst vie with a 
 woman's sharp wits. To say truth, I care not to breathe 
 thy plan to the vagrant air, it has such a treasonable 
 savour.' 
 
 Emma looked from one to the other for a solution of 
 the mystery, but she did not see much in De Guader's 
 dark, handsome face to help her to read riddles. 
 
 ' Thy brother bids me proffer my own petition, dear 
 lady,' he said. ' If I hesitate, be merciful to my unreadi- 
 ness, for it is no easy boon I come to ask of thee.' 
 
 He led her to a carved settle which stood beside the 
 fireplace, and when she was seated, he stood before 
 her silently a moment or two, the firelight scintillating 
 on the ringjs of the mail in which he was sheathed from 
 head to foot, and sparkling on the jewels of his baldric 
 and the golden hilt of his great two-handed sword, for, 
 like her brother, he was still in his harness. 
 
 ' Noble Emma, I have come to ask thee to share with 
 me danger and difficulty,' he said. ' The king has not 
 relented. But his mandate is unjust, and I beg thee to 
 disregard it, and to give me once more the sweet promise 
 that thou wilt be my bride.' 
 
 ' Dost thou mean that thou wouldst ask me to defy 
 the king?' faltered Emma, a great terror chasing away 
 
 1
 
 LOVE OR L O YA L T } '. 
 
 jj 
 
 the short-lived joy which had flooded her heart. She 
 turned wide, anxious eyes upon her brother. 
 
 ' Dost thou not see, Emma, we are sick of spending 
 our lives for William, and getting nothing but kicks and 
 curses from him ? ' explained the prosaic Roger. ' By 
 the mass ! it is hard on Ralph and on me, after so much 
 faithful service, and so maint hard blows given and 
 taken in William's business, that he should mar all our 
 plans and spoil all our pleasure by putting his veto on 
 your marriage. A curse on loyalty ! If this is all it 
 brings, we may as well be a little disloyal' 
 
 Roger had better have allowed his friend to plead his 
 own cause as he had bidden him to do. Ralph's appeal 
 to Emma to share danger with him had touched her 
 generous spirit. Her brother's outburst against his 
 sovereign roused all her loyalty. 
 
 ' I know not what to reply to such converse,' said 
 Emma indignantly ; then added, between jest and 
 earnest, the tears trembling on her lashes as she looked 
 at her brother, ' I would fain let it pass as a bad joke, or 
 to think that perchance ye twain have been drinking a 
 little copiously at the wine-cup.' 
 
 'Nay, Emma, that is an injustice!' cried Hereford, 
 bursting into laughter, and clapping his hand down upon 
 De Guader's mailed shoulder ; ' when this poor love-lorn 
 galliard would not break fast till he had seen thee, albeit 
 he had been in sellc all day, so fire-hot was he to mend 
 his broken troth.' 
 
 ' It may well seem strange converse to the gentle 
 damsel,' said Ralph gravely. 'The earl your father
 
 34 LOVE OR LOYALTY. 
 
 almost worshipped William of Normandy, who, in good 
 sooth, would never have been King of England but for 
 his stalwart aid, and she has never heard whisper of 
 aught against the king. We who have writhed under 
 his imperious tyranny, and groaned in spirit so fiercely,' 
 — here the level brows were knitted and the entreating 
 face grew stern, while the green light shone in the deep- 
 set eyes, — ' can scarce conceive the shock she feels at our 
 sudden speech.' 
 
 ' She will have to get used to it,' said Earl Roger 
 dryly, ' for my patience is at an end. Beshrew me ! she 
 will hear a good deal of such talk. William has ever 
 popped upon me like a cat on a mouse whenever any 
 scheme which promised me well was in hand. And 
 what has he given me but ravaged land that the Welsh 
 run over and harry at will ? I say he only gives away 
 what he must needs pay a garrison to defend if he kept 
 it himself What is your earldom of Norwich, Ralph, 
 but sea-washed dunes or waste corn lands ? He is ever 
 nibbling at our power. Earls, indeed ! Poor earls are 
 we beside Godwin, Leofric, and Siward ! But I tell 
 thee he has gone too far this time. I'll not be thwarted 
 in my plan to be thy brother-in-law ; no, neither by 
 king-lord or foolish damsel ! ' He turned to Emma 
 somewhat fiercely. ' Hark ye, sister of mine, by the 
 little finger of St. Nicholas, to whom De Guader has 
 dedicated his castle of Blauncheflour, thou hadst better 
 make no mincing about accepting a man thou hast 
 already pleaded guilty to loving, or I shall have a crow 
 to pluck with thee ! '
 
 LOVE OR LOYALTY. 35 
 
 'Nay, nay!' exclaimed the courteous De Guader, 
 smiling affectionately at the bewildered and somewhat 
 frightened Emma, and not a little pleased by this crude 
 revelation of his lady's favour. 'Thy noble sister must 
 take me of her own free will or not at all. Holy Virgin ! 
 her will is my law.' 
 
 Emma raised her head with a proud and splendid 
 gesture. 
 
 ' Ay,' she cried, ' Sir Earl of Norwich ! I will have 
 neither thee nor any man else but of my own free will ! 
 Did they stretch me on the rack, or persuade me ever so 
 by such-like loving persuasions, I would have none I did 
 not choose ! ' 
 
 The two earls laughed. 
 
 * Well crowed, fair hen ! ' cried her brother, and Ralph 
 regarded her with admiring eyes. 
 
 'There spoke the true daughter of William Fitz- 
 osbern, eh, Roger?' he exclaimed. ' Methinks if the 
 Lady Emma had felt the Conqueror's heel as heavy as 
 we, her blood would boil as easily. But in sooth, dear 
 lady, the minstrels and romaunt writers fill damsels' 
 heads with fine notions which we poor knights find it 
 hard to carry out in the vulgar battle of everyday life. 
 Thy hero William, our lord-king himself, rebelled when 
 he was ordered to give up the chosen of his heart, the 
 beautiful Matilda of Flanders ; and — saints defend us ! 
 — it was the Holy Father himself that he disobeyed ! ' 
 Here the earl crossed himself 
 
 'Thou hast a noble example, Emma ; make haste to 
 follow it,' said her brother jestingly.
 
 36 LOVE OR LOYALTY. 
 
 * Oh,' said Emma, 'your converse brings me to 
 perplexity. Give me till the morning, and let me 
 ponder on your words. They are sudden.' 
 
 Ralph raised her hand respectfully to his lips. 
 
 ' We can do no less, dear lady,' he said. 
 
 II
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 JEST AND EARNEST. 
 
 ' That means/ said Ralph de Guader thoughtfully, when 
 Emma had left the room, ' " Let me consult my ghostly 
 counsellor." Who is the Lady Emma's director, Fitz- 
 osbern ? Is not Father Theodred of Crovvland thine 
 almoner? — he who was the pet of our East Anglian 
 Bishop yEthelmair, and who was recommended to thee 
 by thine English-loving uncle of Exeter?' 
 
 ' That is so,' assented Hereford ; but added impatiently, 
 ' I prithee truce to thy plans and plottings. I am no 
 moonstruck lover, and cannot subsist on air, however 
 well such unsubstantial fare may suit thy humour. 
 Here we have ridden a good thirty miles, and talked a 
 candle to the sconce, and I vow to thee, I had liefer 
 satisfy my hunger than my ambition. What boots a 
 fat earldom to a man if he is to die of starvation before 
 he gets it?' 
 
 De Guader glanced rather contemptuously at his 
 companion, but prepared to follow him. 
 
 'Let nic have speech with thine almoner this night, 
 nevertheless,' he said, ' in my chamber when I retire 
 from the hall. It may make or mar our undertaking.'
 
 38 JEST AND EARNEST. 
 
 ' As thou wilt/ answered Roger carelessly ; ' but thou 
 canst scarce expect to find the good man in the best of 
 humours if thou hast so little grace as to waken him up 
 in the dead of night. I warrant me he has been snug 
 under his coverlet this two hours.' 
 
 ' I have that to say which will wake him,' said Ralph 
 grimly. ' But of a truth the hours have sped. It would 
 be better, perhaps, to pray the good father to give me 
 audience with him in the morning, before he sees any 
 other. Wilt thou have such message delivered ? ' 
 
 Earl Roger called a menial and gave the necessary 
 order, and summoned his armourer, whom he bade 
 to attend his guest, and then wait on himself; and 
 they retired to their chambers to be unharnessed of 
 their armour, — a process requiring aid of hammer and 
 tongs, — and to indulge in the refreshment of the 
 bath, a luxury the Normans loved as dearly as the 
 Romans. 
 
 The hour was not far past nine, and, to our way of 
 thinking, would not have been late ; but the Norman 
 fashion was to begin the day early, dinner being served 
 at nine in the morning, and a second meal only being 
 usual. When a third meal was desired, as on this 
 occasion, it was informal, and consisted usually of cold 
 meats, being called liverie. 
 
 Accordingly, when the two earls met again, clad 
 in the flowing robes which replaced their military 
 accoutrements, they had no companions at the table 
 save a couple of fine bloodhounds, which were pets of 
 the Earl of Hereford, and had invited themselves
 
 JEST AND EARNEST. 39 
 
 when they smelt the good cheer ; the Countess of 
 Hereford remaining in her bower, where her husband 
 had visited her, and deHghted her by his unexpected 
 return. 
 
 The table was covered with fine linen ; tall candles, in 
 golden candlesticks handsomely wrought, gave light to 
 the scene ; and the dishes of gold and silver containing 
 the meats were presented on the knee by pages, whose 
 tunics were embroidered with the Hereford cognisance, 
 gules, a bend azure and a fesse or. 
 
 Before commencing their meal, a silver basin containing 
 scented water was offered to the earls in which to wash 
 their hands. De Guader called for a napkin on which 
 to dry the fingers he had daintily dipped into the scent, 
 whereat the page opened wide eyes, though he obeyed 
 the order, for the Norman fashion was to wave the hands 
 in the air till they were dry, so that the scent might not 
 be lost, and to wipe them on a cloth was considered 
 Saxon and barbaric. 
 
 ' I am cultivating English ways, thou seest,' observed 
 the Karl of the East Angles. 'It is well to begin at 
 once.' Whereat Hereford laughed. 
 
 The fare was dainty rather than bountiful. A cold 
 venison pasty, and a young heron, larded, roasted, and 
 eaten with ginger, forming the most important dishes ; 
 with simnel and wastcl cakes, and sunth')- sweetmeats, 
 and wines rejoicing in the strange names of pigment 
 and moral. 
 
 The earls carved for themselves with their daggers, 
 and used neither forks nor spoons.
 
 40 JEST AND EARNEST, 
 
 Hereford, although he had declared himself in such 
 a famished condition, showed no great prowess as a 
 trencherman, but seemed more inclined to help himself 
 from the wine-cup. He was obviously in an unsettled 
 and irritable mood, while his companion inclined to the 
 taciturn. 
 
 Suddenly Earl Roger exclaimed, — 
 ' By the mass ! this meal is not sprightly. Did I not 
 see thy jester Grillonne amongst thy vieinie 1 Send for 
 the rogue and for my Marlette, and let the twain hold 
 a tourney of wit. Though I wager thy knave will 
 win.' 
 
 ' If thy sleepy almoner might not be summoned from 
 his slumber to hold converse on a weighty matter, 
 methinks it is somewhat hard that my poor jester should 
 be called upon to cudgel his wits ! ' said Ralph. ' But 
 as thou wilt.' 
 
 ' I'll waken the varlet up with a cup of moral,' answered 
 Hereford ; and a few moments later the two fools were 
 introduced, in obedience to his order, — Marlette rubbing 
 his eyes and yawning ; Grillonne awake and eager- 
 eyed. 
 
 Marlette was a poor imbecile, with a heavy face and 
 clumsy figure, who caused laughter more by the incon- 
 gruity of his short, puzzle-headed interjections, than by 
 any real humour in his sayings. But the Earl of East 
 Anglia's jester was a born buffoon, who would have 
 made a comfortable living, if not a fortune, in the circus 
 in these days. Little, alert, wiry, his lithe body seemed 
 to be always in motion, and the bells on his peaked cap
 
 JEST AND EARNEST. ^\ 
 
 rarely ceased to jingle. He was nearly sixty, and his 
 scant white hair, straggling from under his whimsical 
 headgear, gave him an elfish look, enhanced by the 
 wizened, wrinkled countenance beneath it, and his 
 oblique, twinkling eyes. He was a Breton, who had 
 come over in the train of Ralph the Stallcr's Breton 
 bride in good King Eadvvard's days, and he had loved 
 the gentle lady, who was always kind to him, and well 
 pleased to hear him troll French ballads when she grew 
 weary of hearing the strange Saxon tongue, and felt 
 forlorn and homesick. And he had loved her hand- 
 some boy, who inherited her dark face and eagle nose, 
 though not her bright dark eyes, and had followed him 
 back to Brittany, when, for some reason the chroniclers 
 do not report, he had suffered banishment and confisca- 
 tion of his estates. And he had returned with him 
 when he helped the Conqueror to win England. De 
 Guader knew and valued his fidelity, and took him with 
 him whithersoever he went. 
 
 ' How now, fool Grillonne ! ' was the Earl of Here- 
 ford's greeting. 'I promised to pour out a full cup of 
 moral to wake thee up withal, but it seems thou art by 
 far too much awake already. I had best give two cups 
 to Marietta iiere.' 
 
 'Nay, good uncle,' cried the jester, 'that would be but 
 sorry sport! I do but walk in my sleep. Give me the 
 wine, and thou wilt sec mc in m\- waking state.' 
 
 The earl signed to a page to pour out a cup of wine, 
 and handed it to him. He drank it, not hastily, but 
 sipping it, and smacking his lips with the air of a judge ;
 
 42 JEST AND EARNEST. 
 
 and when he had drained the cup he turned it bottom 
 upwards. He then performed a series of somersaults 
 from one end of the long banqueting-hall to the other, 
 and finished by springing upon the shoulders of Marlette, 
 standing erect with one foot upon the table, and the 
 other on his brother fool's neck. 
 
 ' Ha ! Good nuncles, I am like our lord King William 
 astride of two kingdoms ! ' he cried, waving his bauble 
 as if it were a sceptre, and aping an air of majesty, 
 rendered most ridiculous by his effort to keep his 
 balance on his unequal and, on one side, unsteady 
 footing. 
 
 Marlette, astonished and quite at a nonplus, sought 
 only to free himself from the weight on his shoulder, 
 and with a yell dropped his half-empty goblet of wine, 
 and dashed away, leaving the saucy Grillonne sprawling 
 on his back on the table, while the pages sprang forward 
 to rescue the dishes, and the bloodhounds snarled in 
 fierce surprise. 
 
 ' Help, help, good nuncles ! ' cried the jester. ' Mine 
 island gives me the slip. Ah, well, I'll content myself 
 with the continent ! It hath good cheer upon it.' So 
 saying, he began to help himself to the dainties in his 
 reach. 
 
 The Earl of Hereford burst into a roar of laughter, 
 but the jester's master, smiling grimly, bade him 
 beware of unseemly subjects. ' Crowned heads are no 
 fit themes for thy cracks, Sir Fool ! ' he said. 
 
 ' Chide me not, my Earl of earls ! ' replied the jester, 
 who saw that his lord was not seriously displeased. ' I
 
 JEST AND EARNEST. 43 
 
 meant no damage or irreverence. I have too great a 
 respect for my hide, and would fain save it a tanning ! ' 
 Wherewith he descended from the table with an air of 
 the most sage gravity, calmly filling his pockets the 
 while with simnels. 
 
 'Go to! Thou art an impudent knave!' cried De 
 Guader ; and Earl Roger, laughing more heartily than 
 before, pulled out a penny (equal to about seventeen 
 shillings and sixpence of our money) and tossed it to 
 him. 
 
 ' Thou art the prince of fools ! ' he exclaimed. ' Would 
 I had thee in my following. Thou art of some worth to 
 drive dull care away.' 
 
 In explanation of the fool's dangerous jest, we may 
 relate how William of Normandy dealt with the Angevins 
 when they dared to remind him that his mother was the 
 daughter of a tanner, by ornamenting the walls of Alcncon 
 with hides, and shouting ' La Pel ! a la Pel I ' in ridicule, 
 when he came to besiege their town. They had formed 
 a tete-dn-pont to cover the passage of the river, from which 
 William dislodged them by filling up the moat with 
 wood and firing it, so that the unfortunate Angevins 
 were surrounded by flames, through which gleamed the 
 swords of the mocking Normans, barring their passage 
 to the river beyond. The half-roasted garrison fought 
 with unavailing valour, but twenty surviving for a still 
 worse fate from their relentless foe. William ordered 
 their hands and feet to be cut off and their eyes to be 
 put out, and despatched an Angevin soldier, who had 
 previously been made prisoner, and who had witnessed
 
 44 JEST AND EARNEST. 
 
 the punishment, to tell the garrison how their comrades 
 had fared, and to promise them a similar fate unless 
 they surrendered before night. That they might not 
 doubt the veracity of the messenger, he had the hands 
 and feet which had been struck from the prisoners put 
 into his mangonels, and shot them on to the walls, 
 which so impressed the townsmen that they surrendered 
 at once. 
 
 When the two earls had finished their repast, they 
 retired to their sleeping chambers ; but as Ralph de 
 Guader reached his apartment, he was met by the^arl 
 of Hereford's almoner. 
 
 ' I am come, noble earl, in obedience to thy summons,' 
 he said, ' understanding that thy wish was to have 
 speech of me before any other ; and I venture to intrude 
 on thee to-night, because the Lady Emma has desired 
 me to attend her at daybreak.' 
 
 ' Ha ! just as I expected,' said the earl to himself. ' I 
 thank thee, reverend father,' he replied. ' It is courteous 
 and kind, and my wish was to have speech with thee 
 to-night, but that I feared to break in upon thy rest. 
 Take me, I pray thee, to thy sanctum, where we may be 
 together without audience.' 
 
 Theodred bowed his assent, and the earl, having dis- 
 missed his attendants, followed the almoner to his 
 private apartment, a small but snug room in a recess in 
 one of the towers of the castle. In the centre stood a 
 small table bearing a silver crucifix, covered with parch- 
 ments and materials for writing and illuminating, a 
 page of an unfinished missal lying on the writing-desk,
 
 JEST AND EARNEST. 45 
 
 and showing what the occupant's last business had 
 been. 
 
 Father Theodred offered to the earl the carved settle 
 which stood before his writing-desk, and De Guader 
 sank into it with a sigh, and for a time was silent. 
 Theodred, meanwhile, acceding with rare delicacy to his 
 guest's mood, turned to a corner of the room in which 
 was fitted up a small shrine of the Virgin, and busied 
 himself by trimming the little lamp of oil which burned 
 before it perpetually. 
 
 He was a man of about fifty years of age, strongly 
 built, and of the very fair complexion characteristic 
 of the Anglo-Danes, the ring of hair upon his tonsured 
 head being lighter in colour than the shaven crown, 
 with a ruddy, healthy face, and kind, frank blue eyes. 
 
 'Thine occupation, father, reminds me that I am the 
 guest of a holy man,' said the earl, as the almoner 
 turned to him again. ' I prithee give me thy blessing.' 
 
 'Thou hast it, my son,' answered the priest, extending 
 his hands and making the sign of the cross over Ralph's 
 bent head, and murmuring a benediction. 
 
 ' Thou sayest,' Ralph began, after a time, ' that the 
 Lady Emma has expressed her desire to consult thee. 
 The matter on which she desires thy guidance is one of 
 some weight' 
 
 Theodred seated himself on a wooden stool at a short 
 distance from the earl. 
 
 * Doubtless the matter on which the noble Earl of 
 East Anglia would consult me is one of importance 
 also ? ' he said.
 
 46 JEST AND EARNEST. 
 
 ' The matter on which we twain seek thee, father, is 
 one and the same,' said Ralph, with a smile, 'as thy 
 shrewd wits have doubtless already opined.' 
 
 ' I had some such notion,' answered the almoner 
 gravely. 
 
 'Father Theodred,' said Ralph, grave in his turn, 
 ' thou hast the reputation of an honourable man, and I 
 am about to repose in thee a trust that will put the 
 fortunes, and even the lives, of more than one noble 
 personage, including myself, in thy hands.' 
 
 Theodred sprang up hastily. 
 
 ' Stay thy tongue, noble earl ! ' said he ; ' trust neither 
 thy fortune nor thy life in my hands. Thou knowest 
 my English sympathies, and how thou hast outraged 
 them. How can I bear goodwill to the only English 
 noble who fought beside the Norman on the fatal field 
 where Harold Godwinsson — whom God assoilzie ! — lost 
 his precious life ? ' 
 
 The powerful De Guader, famed for his pride and 
 haughtiness, and his impatience of all rebuke, even from 
 his royal master, bore this bold speech from the Earl 
 of Hereford's almoner with bent head and dejected 
 mien. 
 
 'What if I repent?' he asked softly, his rich voice 
 quavering as he spoke, 
 
 Theodred gazed at him with astonished and doubtful 
 eyes, and came back to his stool and sat down again 
 opposite to him. 
 
 The earl raised his head and looked the almoner in 
 the face with a keen, appealing glance.
 
 JEST AND EARNEST. 47 
 
 * What if it is to those very English sympathies that 
 I appeal ? ' he asked. 
 
 Theodred, considerably affected, answered, ' Nay then, 
 speak out.' 
 
 ' And if thou canst not support me, what I say shall 
 be as unspoken ? ' 
 
 ' Even so.' 
 
 ' Swear thou that on the bones of St. Guthlac ! ' 
 
 ' The son of Ralph the Staller should know that an 
 Englishman's word is as good as his oath.' 
 
 ' I will trust thy good faith. A half confidence is but 
 a fool's wisdom. The point on which the Lady Emma 
 will ask thy guidance is as to whether she shall yet 
 deign to be my wife.' 
 
 'Ah!' said Theodred, almost involuntaril}% in a low 
 tone; 'hast thou ventured so far? Against the king's 
 veto ? ' 
 
 * By St. Eadward, yes ! ' 
 
 Theodred's face darkened. ' Take not the name of 
 that holy saint, who was world-king and heaven-king 
 also, to witness to thy sin ! Thinkcst thou I will aid 
 thee in treachery to thy liege lord ? ' 
 
 ' Sin or no sin, there arc those high in the Church who 
 will aid me. Dost thou esteem thyself holier than 
 these ? ' 
 
 The earl leaned forward and whispered in Theodred's 
 ear the names of several high dignitaries of the English 
 Church, including several abbots and bishops. 
 
 Theodred betrayed great astonishment. 
 
 ' What meanest thou ? ' lie asked.
 
 48 JEST AND EARNEST. 
 
 ' I mean that there is more in this matter than is at 
 present understanded of thee,' said De Guader. ' Per- 
 haps some insight into my own standpoint would best 
 help thee to the whole question.' 
 
 The almoner assumed an attitude of respectful 
 attention. 
 
 ' Thou dost me great honour, noble earl,' he said. 
 * Nevertheless I must protest that as a simple priest I 
 had rather keep to matters more within my province.' 
 
 ' These matters must be within thy province, since thy 
 guidance will be asked by the noble demoiselle whose 
 part in them is of such import,' urged De Guader ; and 
 the priest sighed deeply, for he had a great love for the 
 gentle girl whose adviser he must needs be in this the chief 
 step of her young life. He saw nothing but strife before 
 her, and was sorely perplexed as to whether he should 
 forward her happiness, or, still more, her spiritual welfare, 
 by aiding or hindering the suit of the turbulent man who 
 was thus seeking to win him to his side, and whom he 
 scarcely knew whether to abhor for his part at Senlac, 
 or to love as the son of Ralph the Staller. Certes De 
 Guader's show of contrition had strangely moved him, 
 and the bruised and bleeding patriotism which was his 
 strongest passion waked into painful life at the sight, 
 
 * Thou knowest,' said Earl Ralph, ' how, when my 
 noble father, Ralph the Staller, died, Earl Godwin, in 
 his hate of the Normans, or any from across the straits, 
 worked with the blessed King Eadward against my 
 Breton mother and myself, her stripling son, or rather, 
 I should say, so wearied him out with complaints
 
 ^JEST AND EARNEST. 49 
 
 against us, made by his daughter Eadgytli, the king's wife, 
 that at last the good king gave ear to a trumped-up story 
 of treasonable practices on our innocent parts, and took 
 my father's lands from his widow and orphan, so that 
 we had to go beyond the sea to my mother's estates in 
 Bretagne.' 
 
 ' I have heard a version of the matter,' said Theodred 
 — 'somewhat differing ! ' he added, under his breath. 
 
 ' Canst thou wonder, then, that my love for Harold 
 Godwinsson was not overflowing? the more so as he 
 claimed for himself those dear lands of Norfolk and 
 Suffolk, where my boyhood had been passed. Canst 
 thou wonder that, when he broke his oath to William of 
 Normandy, whom he had sworn not to hinder in his 
 claims to the English throne, — sworn, as thou knowest, 
 on the most sacred relics ' — 
 
 Theodred groaned. ' Harold knew not that the relics 
 were there till after he had sworn,' he murmured. 
 
 'An Englishman's word should be as good as his 
 oath, thou hast said it,' rejoined the carl. ' Canst thou 
 wonder, I ask, that I ranged myself under the banner of 
 the leader whose accolade had given me knighthood to 
 win back those lands of my father's ? ' 
 
 ' How couldst thou ? How couldst thou fight thy 
 father's countrymen, even to win back thy father's 
 lands?' cried the priest, with irrepressible emotion. 
 
 Ralph sprang up and paced about the room. ' Nay, 
 
 I would give my right hand I had not done it,' he said ; 
 
 'but,' he added bitterly, 'I am sufficiently punished! 
 
 After all my valour and manifold services, the haughty 
 
 D
 
 50 JEST AND EARNEST. 
 
 Bastard deems mc not good enough to become his 
 kinsman, and insults me by forbidding me the hand of 
 his kinswoman.' 
 
 His face was dark with scorn, and the peculiar gleam 
 of green was in his eyes which gave so strange an 
 expression to his anger, while the level brows met above 
 them. Evidently wounded pride had more to do with 
 his repentance than patriotic contrition. 
 
 But it was not convenient to admit so much even to 
 himself ' Blood is stronger than water, in good sooth,' 
 he continued, ' and my father's blood rebels in my veins 
 when I see the hungry Normans ousting staunch 
 English families from their holdings, and revelling in 
 the fat of the land. I had not thought of all that must 
 follow the setting of William on the throne, for I dreamt 
 not that Harold's following had been so strong, or that 
 the tussle would be so bitter. And now that William is 
 away, the curs snuffle and snarl and tear the quarry like 
 hounds without a huntsman, while Hereford and I, 
 through his silly jealousy, have our hands tied, and are 
 powerless to keep order in the land. I tell thee it is 
 galling beyond endurance to see the base churls, whom 
 never a knight would have spoken to in Normandy but 
 to give them an order, ruffling it with the best, and 
 strutting as they had been born nobles, lording it 
 over high-born English dames and damsels, whose fathers 
 and husbands they have slain, and whose fortunes they 
 are wasting in riot ! ' 
 
 ' Galling beyond endurance ! ' repeated Theodred, 
 springing up with a gesture of anguish. ' Christ grant
 
 JEST AND EARNEST. 51 
 
 me pardon for the hate that springeth in my heart for 
 the doers of such wrong, for it bids fair to overflow the 
 barriers of my control whenever I let my thoughts 
 wander from the comfort of heavenly things to earthly 
 miseries ! ' 
 
 De Guader's eyes gleamed with triumph as he saw 
 his companion so deeply moved. Stopping in his tiger 
 walk up and down the room, he laid his strong hand 
 upon Theodred's arm. 
 
 ' Then help me to redress the v/rong and repair the 
 mistake ! ' he said. 
 
 Theodred turned on him fiercely. ' Repair the 
 mistake ! Canst thou bring then the dead to life, or 
 gather from the soil one drop of the noble blood that 
 has been poured forth upon it like water, the dark stains 
 of which still scare the traveller, and call to Heaven for 
 vengeance ? ' 
 
 ' Nay, St. Nicholas defend me ! ' answered the earl, 
 * I can do neither of these things. There is that which 
 cannot be undone, and can only be atoned by bitter 
 penance and humble contrition. But there is that 
 which may be restored. Ruined men may have their 
 own acrain. Prisoners can be set free. Doth not 
 Archbishop Stigand still languish in durance? Is not 
 thine own beloved bishop and Stigand's brother, 
 .^thclmrer, living in poverty and shame, since William's 
 tyrannical deprivation of his sec on false and scandalous 
 charges ? ' 
 
 ' Alas, yes ! ' admitted the priest. 
 
 Then the earl, bending towards him, and fixing his
 
 52 JEST AND EARNEST. 
 
 piercing eyes on the good-humoured and yielding eyes 
 of Theodred, said in a low, clear voice, every syllable of 
 every word thrilling the silent night, — 
 
 ' An English king may yet fill the throne. Waltheof 
 Siwardsson lives ! ' 
 
 Theodred covered his face with his hands, and 
 staggered into his chair. After a while he murmured, 
 ' And doth the holy Frithic, Abbot of St. Albans, favour 
 this, and Thurstan, Abbot of Ely ? ' 
 
 ' Ay ; nor is Fitzosbern, Bishop of Exeter, opposed. 
 He groans for the woes of the English people, whose 
 ways he has always loved, and whose manners he has 
 adopted; neither brooks he tamely this insult of William's 
 to his nephew. When such favour me, wilt not thou ? ' 
 
 Theodred extended his palm without uncovering his 
 face. ' I cannot answer thee thus at a moment's notice. 
 The issues are too great.' 
 
 ' Waltheof, Hereford, and I,' the earl continued, his 
 face lighted with a lofty pride, and his gesture such as 
 might have befitted the Conqueror himself, 'William 
 absent. Who could withstand our combination ? ' 
 
 ' I pray thee mercy ! This matter needeth meditation 
 and prayer. Leave me. Whether I help or hinder thee, 
 be sure I will not betray thee. The Holy Virgin have 
 both thee and me in her keeping ! ' 
 
 ' Amen,' said the earl, and left the apartment. As he 
 walked down the passage, stepping softly lest he should 
 disturb those who had slumbered while he plotted, he 
 heard the strokes of the flagellum with which Father 
 Theodred was lacerating his shoulders
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 
 
 On the morrow, a goodly company rode forth over the 
 drawbridges of Hereford Castle, with clatter of prancing 
 horses and barking of dogs and jingle of hawks' 
 jesses ; falconers carrying the birds, and huntsmen 
 leading the well - trained dogs, spaniels, cockers, and 
 here and there a wolf or boar hound, in case larger 
 game should be started ; a party of men-at-arms to 
 protect them from wild beasts, outlaws, and Welsh, with 
 a few knights in harness to head them, and the ladies 
 and gentlemen of the hunt themselves. 
 
 In the place of honour amongst these rode the Earl 
 of East Anglia, mounted on his splendid Spanish barb 
 Oliver, whose fine points had drawn forth praise from 
 that lover of good horse-flesh, William the Conqueror 
 himself, when De Guader had ridden the steed in his 
 presence ; a bright red-roan with fox-coloured mane and 
 tail, fine of limb, but of greater strength and endurance 
 than the heavier Norman warhorse, and full of spirit and 
 docility. 
 
 By his side ambled Emma Fitzosbern, on a white 
 
 palfrey, bearing on her wrist a noble ' tassel - gentle,' 
 
 r.3
 
 54 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 
 
 whose broad shoulders and large nares and long black 
 spurs proclaimed him of the bluest blood of hawk 
 aristocracy. 
 
 ' Certes, he is a glorious tierce,' said Emma, looking 
 with admiration at the hawk, ' and seemeth well re- 
 claimed, though, knowing me not, he is by nature 
 shy.' 
 
 ' I hope well he may sustain the reputation accorded 
 him by those from whom I had him,' said the earl, 'and 
 prove his worth by deeds when we reach the waters. 
 He comes straight from Denmark, and is accounted 
 equal to any King Sweyn at present hath in his mews. 
 He will bind a mallard with his beak, nor needeth he 
 any lure save the voice of the falconer. None exceed 
 the Danes for skill in training a hawk.' 
 
 The Earl of Hereford, who had been riding ahead 
 with his countess, fell back and reined his horse beside 
 his sister's palfrey, that he might examine and criticise 
 this much-extolled bird. But his criticism also took the 
 form of admiration. 
 
 'If he performs as well as he looks,' quoth he, 'I 
 would think him cheap at a hundred marks.' 
 
 When they reached the marshy ground to north- 
 west the castle, at which they had been aiming, the 
 spaniels soon put up a heronshaw, and Emma, who had 
 no mean skill at falconry, slipped off the hood from the 
 Danish hawk, and cast him deftly from her little fist 
 into the air at what was called 'i}c\Q^jette serve, that is to 
 say, as quickly after the quarry had taken flight as 
 possible.
 
 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 55 
 
 The heron soared into the an- on his strong wings, 
 with his slender legs stretched straight behind him, till 
 he was almost lost in the clouds, but the tassel-gentle 
 pursued him swiftly, scaling the air by small circles 
 ascending higher and higher like the steps of a spiral 
 staircase. 
 
 Emma clapped her hands in delight. 
 
 ' By the mass ! a magnificent mount ! ' exclaimed 
 Hereford, and his praise was echoed amongst the ladies 
 and gentlemen round, nor did the falconers refuse their 
 meed of honour to the foreign bird, jealous though they 
 might be for the fame of their own particular pets, 
 whom they had tended since they took them from the 
 eyrie at the stage of cyass-down, and lured and re- 
 claimed with daily care and patient skill. 
 
 ' The tassel-gentle hath the uppermost,' cried Emma, 
 after a few seconds of eager watching. 
 
 ' Thine eyes are as keen as the hawk's ! ' cried De 
 Guader. 'At that height I could not tell one from the 
 other.' 
 
 But Emma saw truly. In a moment more the tassel- 
 gentle stooped upon his quarry, and the struggling birds 
 came tumbling from the sky together, leaving a long 
 trail of fluttering feathers to mark the course of their 
 passage through the air. 
 
 Hereford pressed forward to the spot at which they 
 promised to touch earth, and was ready to despatch the 
 heron ere he could do mischief with his long wings, 
 measuring upwards of five feet from tip to tip. He 
 shook the hawk's hood, and the well-trained bird flew
 
 56 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 
 
 at once upon his wrist. Bravely had he maintained his 
 reputation by deeds. 
 
 Other hawks were then flown at various game, 
 mallard and crane and bittern. Sometimes the quarry 
 escaped ; on one occasion a falcon failed to win the 
 upper hand, and the heron at which she was cast trans- 
 fixed her on his long beak and killed her, at which 
 misfortune there was much ado. Others acquitted them- 
 selves well, but none rivalled the prowess of the Danish 
 hawk, and when the gay company had turned their 
 horses' heads homewards, and had leisure to discuss the 
 matter, he was acclaimed by all the hero of the day in 
 falcon-world. 
 
 ' Since thou hast a good opinion of the tassel-gentle,' 
 said De Guader, who had reined his horse again to the 
 side of Emma's palfrey, 'and art pleased to say that I 
 gave no overdrawn picture of his high qualities, I pray 
 thee, noble demoiselle, to pleasure me by taking him 
 for thine own from this day forward ; for, in sooth, I 
 obtained him from Denmark for no other purpose, 
 having heard of the death of thy favourite falcon. See, 
 he takes to thee by instinct, and sits thy slender wrist 
 as if he knew it as that of his own lady.' 
 
 ' Thou art too generous, Sir Earl,' replied Emma, the 
 quick blood flushing cheek and forehead, — partly through 
 delight, for she was a keen huntress, and appreciated 
 fully the joys of possessing such a bird ; but more 
 through confusion, for she felt that she could not accept 
 such a gift from a suitor whom she intended to reject, 
 and that virtually to take the beautiful creature would
 
 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 57 
 
 be to answer Ralph's weighty question of the night 
 before — for in those days a good hawk was of more 
 value than diamonds. To make matters worse, her 
 brother was watching her pitilessly, with a quizzical 
 smile in his eyes, and evident curiosity as to what she 
 would say. 
 
 But fortune was kinder than her friends. The com- 
 pany was riding at the moment through a belt of 
 woodland, and, just as Emma was casting about in her 
 mind for an answer to Ralph's speech that might post- 
 pone her difficulty, and toying somewhat lovingly with 
 the bird, a lank grey beast trotted silently across the 
 pathway a few yards ahead of the foremost horse- 
 man. 
 
 The dogs gave tongue and the men also. 
 
 'Wolf! wolf!' cried the huntsmen, and half-a-dozen 
 knights of the meinie who carried hauberk and lance 
 dashed forward in pursuit. 
 
 All was excitement and commotion. Steeds chafed 
 and curveted, and kept their riders from requiring 
 answers to inconvenient questions, and Kmma Fitzo.sbern 
 felt grateful exceedingly to the fiery Oliver for the 
 trouble he gave his master, and the excuse which his 
 antics afforded her to slip behind to the side of her 
 bower- maiden, Eadgyth of Norwich, who was follow- 
 ing on a sober-minded brown palfrey, being but an 
 indifferent horsewoman, and alwa)-s desirous of a quiet 
 mount. 
 
 De Guadcr gave Oliver the rein and galloped for- 
 ward.
 
 58 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 
 
 ' I am in sore distress, Emma,' said Eadgyth, as 
 she joined her, 'for my foolish Freya has rushed off 
 after the rest of them, as if a gazehound could pull 
 down a wolf, forsooth ! I much fear me she will be 
 hurt.' 
 
 Almost as she spoke, the knights returned, one hold- 
 ing aloft the wolfs head as a trophy ; but another, a 
 young Norman in De Guader's following, Sir Aimand 
 de Sourdeval by name, carried a wounded hound in his 
 arms. 
 
 ' It is Fre}'a ! ' exclaimed Eadgyth, and, riding forward 
 towards the knight, she asked if her favourite was much 
 wounded. 
 
 ' Nothing dangerously, sweet donzelle,' replied Sir 
 Aimand, looking up with a bright smile, and evidently 
 pleased to have so cheerful an answer to give, both for 
 the hound's sake and the lady's. 'A bite in the forearm, 
 nothing worse, though it lames her. I will bind it, 
 with your permission, when we reach the castle ; I have 
 a salve reckoned most healing for the wounds of hounds, 
 and I hope it may prove its worth in the healing of 
 thine.' 
 
 Eadgyth thanked the young knight for his courtesy 
 with much sincerity, for she had brought up the grey- 
 hound to her own hand, and the creature was full of 
 gentle ways and pretty tricks, which her mistress had 
 taught her, besides being exceptionally beautiful, with 
 a satin skin as white as milk and a body as lithe as 
 any eel's. 
 
 It was a great relief to Eadgyth also to note how
 
 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 59 
 
 tenderly Sir Aimand handled her favourite, so that the 
 hound lay quite passive in his hold, and she felt content 
 to leave her to the knight's tender mercies. 
 
 When they reached the castle, Emma Fitzosbern 
 found herself still carrying the tassel-gentle on her 
 wrist, and thought with a half sigh that it would be 
 hard to relinquish him, even if she were quite prepared 
 to renounce all that she must take with him. Nor did 
 De Guader give her opportunity to restore the bird to 
 his keeping. 
 
 Later in the day, when the May sun was drawing nigh 
 to the summits of the Welsh hills, Emma, her riding 
 garb exchanged for a silken robe of pale blue, embroidered 
 with pearls and silver and edged with vair, very brave to 
 look upon, svv^ept down the long alleys that led from the 
 ladies' bovver to the orchard, in company with her young 
 sister-in-law, the Countess of Hereford, and Dame 
 Amicia de Reviers, a venerable lady, who had been 
 Emma's 'guide, philosopher, and governante' since the 
 daughter of Fitzosbern had first opened her grey-blue 
 eyes upon this wicked world, and who now found her 
 aged infirmity soothed by the lo\c and trust of her 
 whilom pupil. 
 
 Hereford is, and was, a famous apple country, and in 
 those days it was celebrated for both cider and grape 
 wine. Just then, in the sweet spring weather, the 
 orchard was a pleasant i)lace in which to while away an 
 hour. The insecurity of life making the protection of 
 stone walls imperative, prevented any extensive cultiva- 
 tion of garden flowers, and gardens within castle precincts
 
 6o HORSE,, HAWK. AND HOUND. 
 
 were necessarily circumscribed. But the orchard was 
 somewhat more free, though lofty walls surrounded it, 
 over which the trained branches of the vines spread in 
 orderly growth, and were putting forth tufts of tender 
 bronze - green leaves at every spur. Gillyflowers 
 bloomed between their roots, and their wild yellow 
 brothers found space for their impudent needs on the 
 crown of the walls. Across the centre of the orchard 
 ran a chattering brook, along the banks of which 
 kingcups made a golden line, and over which a little 
 bridge with toy battlements was built. The pear trees 
 were covered with snow-white flowers and the apples 
 with rosy buds, and under the netted shadows of their 
 straggling boughs the rich green turf was gemmed with 
 primroses and daisies and buttercups ; while merles and 
 mavises sat_^amongst the blossoms, striving which should 
 sing the sweetest songs. From the meadows and 
 pastures beyond the walls came the lowing of cows and 
 the mellow voice of the cuckoo. 
 
 Emma carried the tassel-gentle on her wrist, and a 
 page followed her with a lure and dainty morsels where- 
 with to tempt the proud bird's appetite ; and when the 
 countess and Dame Amicia sat down upon a bench in a 
 small arbour near the stream, she went forward to the 
 bridge, and bade the page set down his burden upon the 
 wall. Then, leaning on the parapet, she amused herself 
 by casting off the bird for short flights, and luring him 
 back, teaching him to recognise the sound of her voice. 
 The other ladies, who were in view of the performance, 
 applauded when he obeyed her quickly.
 
 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. • 6i 
 
 Yet Emma had not fully accepted the gift of the bird, 
 or decided what her course should be. She was in great 
 perplexity. In the morning, jubilant with exercise, the 
 glow and excitement of the chase upon her, all difficulties 
 had seemed light save that of renunciation, and the 
 qualified permission which Father Theodred had given 
 her, to follow her own heart in the matter, seemed 
 to move all obstacles from her path. Now, in cooler 
 mood, her anxious spirit conjured up visions of 
 distress. 
 
 To defy the king was both sinful and dangerous. If 
 she dwelt more on the danger than the sin, she must not 
 be judged by the standard of later days. The idea of 
 kingly divinity had scarcely blossomed into flower in 
 the chaos of those dark ages. Every powerful noble 
 was a sovereign on his own estate, and his followers 
 fought his battles with little scruple whether against king 
 or peer. The feudal king-lord was but first among 
 peers, and very few noble houses could display a 
 scutcheon free from the blot of treason. 
 
 Vows of fealty and the sanctity of knightly honour 
 notwithstanding, the turbulent barons thought less of it 
 than a modern politician of changing his party. Indeed, 
 they watched all kingly encroachments on the power of 
 their order with jealous eyes, and deemed it a duty to 
 stand by each other. Not till Warwick, ' the Kingmaker,' 
 was laid low on Barnet field, did the kingly ideal become 
 paramount. 
 
 So Emma thought more of the blood that would flow 
 if William were defied, than of the heinousness of the
 
 62 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 
 
 defiance. Earl Ralph and her brother would both be 
 involved in trouble and sorrow. And all for her foolish 
 face ! Oh, why had she not been born some plain, 
 poor damsel, over whose fate none would concern 
 themselves ? 
 
 She would not be a centre of strife and confusion ! 
 No, she would retire into a convent and lead a life of 
 penitence and prayer ; and Ralph would find another 
 bride whom William would not grudge him. 
 
 But this pious resolution was accompanied by a deep 
 sigh, and a look of wistful longing at the hawk, as he 
 came fluttering his strong, sharp-pointed wings to her 
 call. Perhaps he typified worldly joys to her at the 
 moment. 
 
 Just then two goodly gentlemen came striding across 
 the greensward to the arbour by the bridge, and Emma's 
 heart gave a great leap, for she felt that the time had 
 come when, for weal or woe, she must make her choice. 
 
 And the Earl of Hereford went into the arbour and 
 sat down by his wife, but the Earl of East Anglia came 
 straight on to the bridge where Emma stood. ' The 
 tassel-gentle acknowledges the authority of his own liege 
 lady,' Ralph said, with a meaning smile, as he stopped 
 beside her and leaned his arm on the low parapet of the 
 little bridge. 
 
 ' I fear he learned not his loyalty from his master,' 
 Emma replied, looking in his face with earnest eyes. 
 
 ' Nay, flout me not, dear lady,' pleaded De Guader. 
 ' Give me an answer to my question of yesternight. It 
 is not like thee to prolong my torture.'
 
 
 Emma FitzUsbcrii accepts tlie Tassel-geuUe.
 
 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 63 
 
 ' Indeed, I know not what to answer thee,' said Emma 
 in sad seriousness. ' My heart is torn with doubt. I 
 cannot bear,' she said, laying her hand upon his arm, as 
 if to restrain his eagerness for combat, ' to be the cause 
 of strife. And strife it must mean, if thou shouldst 
 marry me against the king's will. William is not the 
 man to take such defiance smoothly.' 
 
 ' Nor am I, nor is Hereford, the man to take his insult 
 smoothly,' answered Ralph, with blazing eyes. ' See'st 
 thou not, the strife must be ? The insult is given, and 
 can only be wiped out with blood ! ' 
 
 'Ah!' 
 
 ' See'st thou not, my dove,' asked De Guader, taking 
 the hand she had laid upon his arm in both his own, 
 ' thy decision has nought to do with the strife? Indeed, 
 thy refusal to have me now would but make mine anger 
 against William the more bitter, as I shall in that case 
 owe him the loss of my happiness as well as the affront 
 to mine honour. No, the point is this : I cannot urge 
 thee to share strife and sorrow with mc, though,' and his 
 eyes flashed fresh fires, 'the saints might favour me 
 that I won thee but higher honours in the end. If thy 
 heart fails thee, Hereford will send thee over-sea to thy 
 brother in Normandy, where thou canst dwell in peace 
 and safety, while we fight our quarrel out. Fight it out 
 we must ! 'Tis not William's first insult, but it shall be 
 his last.' 
 
 ' Nay, if I cannot stay the strife, I will share it ! ' cried 
 Emma, touched to the quick. * Thou dost me wrong to 
 deem, even for an instant, that I shrink for my own
 
 64 HORSE, HAWK, AND HOUND. 
 
 welfare's sake ! 'Tis not in the nature of a Fitzosbcrn ! ' 
 Then, turning to the hawk, she said, ' Thou may'st know 
 me for thy liege lady, my brave tassel-gentle ! I take 
 thee, and thy master with thee, but I fear he is by far 
 less well reclaimed than thee ! '
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SAXON AND NORMAN. 
 
 The little village of Exning in Suffolk was once an Im- 
 portant place, the seat of the royal palace of the kings 
 and queens of East Anglia, wherein was born the cele- 
 brated St. Etheldreda, who was the foundress of the 
 monastery of Ely ; and its state did not entirely dis- 
 appear till A.D. 1200, when a plague broke out which 
 desolated the population, and a New Market was set up 
 a few miles from it, which still bears that name, and is 
 the well-known racing centre. 
 
 Ralph de Guader, as Earl of East Anglia, became the 
 lord of this ancient palace of the East Anglian royal 
 family, and, as it was in his day the fashion for weddings 
 to take place at the house of the bridegroom, it was here 
 that preparations were made for his union with Emma 
 Fitzosbern. 
 
 It was in every way convenient for Ralph's purposes. 
 
 Situated on the extreme verge of his estates, jutting out 
 
 towards the west, whence his bride must come, it was 
 
 the very nearest point at which she could enter his 
 
 domain ; near" also to Northampton and Huntingdon, 
 
 over which Walthcof Siwardsson was carl, regarding 
 
 !■:
 
 66 SAXON AND NORMAN. 
 
 whom, as we know, De Guader had deep-laid schemes. 
 The celebrity it bore as the time-honoured residence of 
 the East Anglian royalty, and the birthplace of one of 
 the best-beloved of Saxon saints, endeared it to the 
 hearts of the Saxon nobles and thegns, whom it was 
 Ralph's policy to conciliate, and of whom he had invited 
 to the banquet all who still possessed any remnant of 
 their former wealth, and many who had little left but 
 names to conjure with. 
 
 Divers Breton nobles and knights also held manors in 
 the neighbourhood, and De Guader had in his own 
 following a strong body of Breton mercenaries, and took 
 care to bid the leading men amongst them, and all he 
 could gather of his mother's countrymen having settle- 
 ments in England, to the feast. Many Normans also 
 were invited, men who were known to be discontented 
 with their share of the spoil of fair lands and deer 
 forests and riches of various kinds distributed after the 
 Conquest, or who, like De Guader and Hereford, were 
 smarting under William's tyrannous whims. Last, but 
 most important amongst the guests, were the members 
 of the Saxon Church, many of whom came to the bridal, 
 including several of the high positions of bishop and 
 abbot. 
 
 Only the highest in rank of such a large assembly 
 could be sheltered under the roof of the palace, built 
 though it had been to suit Anglo - Saxon notions of 
 hospitality, which were on a bounteous scale. 
 
 The knights and thegns of humbler degree were 
 encamped in the neighbourhood in every variety of tent
 
 SAXON AND NORMAN. 67 
 
 and hut that would serve for temporary shelter, while 
 each noble or chief brought with him a goodly train of 
 house-carles, squires, and pages, and a motley following 
 of attendants and grooms, with horses and hounds and 
 sumpter mules laden with baggage. For miles around 
 the air was rent with the neighing of horses and shout- 
 ing of men, the barking of dogs and clashing of arms, 
 and the braying of trumpets, while above each gay tent 
 floated a silken banner bearing the arms of the occupant, 
 or, at least, tall lances stuck in the ground beside it 
 fluttered their pennoncelles around it. All was merry 
 clamour and confusion, and doubtless Newmarket Heath 
 itself was as gay as it now is on the morning of the 
 Two Thousand Guineas. 
 
 The East Anglian earl had elected to have the 
 festivities arranged according to Saxon fashions. Never- 
 theless, he had endeavoured to satisfy the tastes of all 
 his guests, and a variety of entertainments was provided. 
 A magnificent pavilion had been erected for the many 
 who could not be accommodated with seats in the 
 banqueting-hall of the palace, over which waved richly- 
 coloured flags embroidered with the arms of the three 
 great earls, — the azure lion rampant which Waltheof 
 had assumed as his emblem, the red, blue, and golden 
 arms of Hereford, and De Guader's own cognisance, 
 party per pale or and sable, with a bend vairy. 
 
 To one side of it were spacious lists hung with scarlet 
 cloth, one hundred yards long by forty broad, having 
 benches for spectators in tiers along the length of the 
 barriers, and in the centre, on each side, a canopy, one
 
 68 SAXON AND NORMAN. 
 
 destined for the three earls, who were to be judges of the 
 combat, the other for Emma Fitzosbern, — from whose 
 hands as Queen of Beauty the victors were to receive 
 their prizes, — the noble ladies who were her guests, and 
 the maidens of her train. The tourney was to take place 
 a full day before the wedding, so that the combatants 
 might be rested, and fit for the labour of feasting. The 
 combats were in no case to be a outrance, but merely a 
 trial of strength and skill. 
 
 On the opposite side of the pavilion a large space of 
 ground was marked out for sports of a less aristocratic 
 character, and set with targets for archery, a quintain, — 
 not the knightly quintain supplied with a full suit of 
 good armour, such as chivalric aspirants tried their skill 
 on, the providing of which was a serious item in the 
 expenses of a feudal castle, but a mere ring and sand- 
 bag, — leaping bars, racecourses both for horse and foot 
 racing, a bear-pit, and other sports to please the various 
 tastes of the soldiery, — the socmen or tenants holding 
 land by service other than knightly, — the bordars or 
 cottagers holding portions of land on condition of 
 supplying the lord of the manor with poultry, eggs, and 
 other small provisions, — and such other freemen as De 
 Guader deemed it well to conciliate. 
 
 A richly-decked bower had been prepared for Emma 
 Fitzosbern in the old Anglo-Saxon palace, and in this 
 she sat with her favourite, Eadgyth of Norwich, on the 
 evening of their arrival at Exning. Eadgyth was to be 
 her chief bridemaid, and the policy of the bridegroom 
 was not ill-served by this honour paid to the relative 
 
 ■?■'
 
 SAXON AND NORMAN. 69 
 
 of the great English earl. Emma's face was radiant 
 with happiness, for she loved Ralph de Guader deeply, 
 and her buoyant disposition did not tempt her to meet 
 difficulties half way ; so she was able to throw to the 
 winds all foreboding as to sinister results from the bold 
 step she and her bridegroom were about to take in 
 opposing the Conqueror's will. 
 
 Eadgyth, however, though evidently trying to be as 
 gay as beseemed the occasion, was unable to hide from 
 Emma's quick eyes the fact that she was herself in low 
 spirits, betrayed by a tinge of sadness in her tone, and 
 half-stifled sighs that would make way between her 
 merry speeches. 
 
 ' Eadgyth, something hath vexed thee,' said Emma 
 earnestly. 'Be frank with mc, and tell me thy sorrow, 
 by the memory of the freedom with which I have 
 reposed my woes with thee.' 
 
 ' Nay,' replied Eadgyth, with a forced smile, a faint 
 one, it must be said, like December sunshine, 'it would 
 be a sin to talk to thee of sorrow on thy bridal eve.' 
 
 Thou canst not hide it, Eadgyth ; thou wouldst do 
 more kindly to tell me all.' 
 
 ' Thou knowcst the young knight, Sir Aimand de 
 Sourdeval, who rides in thy bridgeroom's meinief^ said 
 Eadgyth in a low hesitating tone. 
 
 She had taken Emma's hand in her own, and was 
 twisting the betrothal ring wliich circled the slender 
 third finger round and round, but, though her face was 
 averted, her white neck and forehead grew pink under 
 Emma's gaze.
 
 70 SAXON AND NORMAN. 
 
 *A gallant knight and of good lineage,' said Emma 
 quietly. ' My brother said but the other day that he 
 counted him amongst the best lances he knows.' 
 
 ' Thou wilt remember he rescued my poor gazehound 
 Freya from the fangs of the wolf the day thy Danish 
 hawk was first flown, and leeched her tenderly after, 
 even using on her a talisman which had been given to 
 him by a holy palmer from the East, nursing the poor 
 beast as gently as if she had been a human child.' 
 
 * 'Tis a good sign in a man to show tenderness to the 
 poor beasts who cannot make their wrongs public,' said 
 Emma. ' He who will suffer inconvenience to save a 
 beast pain, will not do less for weak women or feeble 
 children that come under his charge.' 
 
 Eadgyth looked up with sparkling agreement in her 
 eyes, but bent her head again as she continued, — 
 
 ' This evening, as we drew near the goal of our journey, 
 he took advantage of his duty as escort to ride his 
 destrier close to the side of my palfrey, and asked me 
 what colours I meant to wear at the tourney, and to give 
 him a favour to wear in his helm, with many compli- 
 ments, saying my good renown was such that the noble 
 Godfrey de Bouillon himself would not disdain to break 
 a lance in my honour.' 
 
 'And what was thine answer, sweet friend?' asked 
 Emma. ' I know not what in this can find thee food 
 for grief 
 
 Eadgyth continued in a grave and measured voice, — 
 
 * I thanked him that he should do me such compli- 
 ment, and said I doubted not his lance and sword would
 
 SAXON AND NORMAN. 71 
 
 well defend my favour, being plied by a God-fearing 
 knight, and in the cause of a maiden who hath nought 
 to conceal ; but I could give no favour, for I had ever 
 held that she who lets a good man risk life and limb in 
 her service, should be ready to guerdon the victor, and 
 that I could not do.' 
 
 ' Now, Eadgyth, why shouldst thou have given such 
 an answer?' asked Emma vehemently. 'Read me thy 
 riddle, I pray thee, for, in good sooth, I deem not thou 
 hast the knight in ill-favour.' 
 
 ' Surely the riddle is plain to read,' answered Eadgyth, 
 ' and thou shouldcst know enough of my mind to answer 
 it. Is not Sir Aimand a Norman, and am I not the 
 cousin of Harold Godwinsson ? ' 
 
 ' I tell thee truly I am sick of thy eternal Harold 
 Godwinsson ! ' cried Emma, springing up and pacing 
 the room. ' His name is dragged forth in season or 
 out of season. It must be hard for the poor man to 
 rest in his grave ! Here are eight years the Normans 
 and the Saxons — if Saxon thou wilt own thyself, some- 
 times thou wilt correct me that thou art an Anglo-Dane ! 
 — have been living in peace, and marrying and giving in 
 marriage, and thou wouldst wake up old quarrels, and 
 part them in sunder again. As well might I refuse to 
 marry Ralph dc Guader because of his English blood.' 
 
 ' But the earl fought with thy people. How know I 
 but that my kinsfolk fell by vSir Aimand's hand ? He 
 was at Senlac, though but a young squire. The gulf 
 that yawns between us is impassable ! ' and Eadgyth's 
 shoulders shook with an irrepressible shudder.
 
 72 SAXON AND NORMAN. 
 
 ' Even so,' said Emma, ' it was in fair fight on a 
 hardly-contested field, and Sir Aimand would be in no 
 way blood-guilty therefor. When a quarrel is ended, 
 generous foes shake hands.' 
 
 * So said Sir Aimand. For he asked me if any reason 
 were behind my answer that he might know, and I told 
 him frankly that my heart still bled for my country's 
 wounds, and that I could not forget that the lance he 
 offered to ply in mine honour had tilted against my 
 countrymen, had perhaps been dyed with the blood of 
 those dear to me. He answered and said, that it had 
 been a fair fight, with no ill blood between the com- 
 batants ; that God had made the Norman arms prevail, 
 and that I ought to accede to His holy will. But I 
 cannot feel it so,' Eadgyth ended, with a sigh. 
 
 ' Then I must try to comfort thee some other way,' 
 said Emma, resuming her seat, and taking the face of 
 her friend in both her hands, and turning it up and 
 kissing it, for Eadgyth was sitting on a lov/ stool at her 
 feet, as was her wont. ' Remember thou art on thy way 
 to thy dear Norwich, where some of thy kin may still 
 be found ; nay, some may be amongst the invited guests 
 to the banquet, and encamped near thee even now. We 
 know, at least, that more than one noble thegn will be 
 present. Who can say what fate may have in store for 
 thee ? ' 
 
 Eadgyth shook her head. 
 
 'Alas, Emma! I shall not find comfort so. There 
 was that in the face of the poor knight as he turned away 
 that I fear me will haunt my memory to my dying day.'
 
 SAXON AND NORMAN. 73 
 
 ' Nay then, if that be thy mood, I will waste no pity 
 on thee,' said Emma. ' Shame on thee, that thou 
 shouldst send my countryman away with a sad face, and 
 doubtless an aching heart, for such a fantastic whim ! ' 
 
 But the soft tones of her voice somewhat belied her 
 declaration that she would bestow no pity on her way- 
 ward friend.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE BRIDE-ALE. 
 
 The festivities of the days preceding the wedding 
 had no special incidents to mark them as more worthy 
 of note than a hundred such which have been de- 
 scribed in history and romance, but the wedding-day 
 itself left its mark on time, and has been recorded 
 as of woeful bearing on the destinies of the many who 
 partook of its good cheer, by chroniclers contemporary 
 and modern. 
 
 The ceremonies observed at the marriage were after 
 the Anglo-Saxon fashions, and Ralph de Guader himself 
 wore the Saxon garb : a tunic of saffron silk reaching 
 to the knee, with a border round the neck and hem of 
 embroidery in gold thread, edged with ermine, and 
 fastened at the waist with a wide belt of highly- 
 wrought goldsmith's work set with jewels ; suspended 
 from this a short sword, hilted with gold-inlaid ivory, 
 and a fierce-looking hunting- knife no less richly em- 
 bellished. On his shoulders a short scarlet cloak lined 
 with ermine, and fastened by a band across the chest of 
 similar work and design to the baldric, having at each 
 extremity a round clasp of Danish filigree, much raised in 
 
 74
 
 THE BRIDE-ALE. -75 
 
 the centre, where a splendid ruby repeated the red of the 
 cloak. Stockings of scarlet cloth, cross-gartered with 
 golden braid, and short brown leather boots, the heels 
 armed with the golden spurs of knighthood, completed 
 his apparel. 
 
 His earl's coronet was embedded in the crisp dark 
 curls of his close-cropped hair, which, to have been in 
 keeping with his dress, should have been long enough to 
 lie upon his shoulders, and the colour of tow ; and, to say- 
 truth, his swart countenance was still less in character. 
 Yet from an esthetic point of view the costume was 
 sufficiently becoming, and the personal appearance of the 
 bridegroom drew forth a full share of praise from the 
 noble dames and damsels who graced the day with their 
 presence, for he looked strikingly handsome, flushed as 
 he was with excitement, his face animated, and his keen 
 eyes flashing. 
 
 The policy of adopting it was another question. 
 Many of the English nobles and knights, whom it was 
 intended to flatter, rather resented his assumption of 
 their national garb as a mockery and insult, after the 
 part he had borne in helping to crush their cause and 
 help the Conqueror to the throne, while the Normans 
 and Bretons were offended by it. 
 
 The guest in whose honour he had chiefly assumed it, 
 Waltheof, Earl of Northumberland, Northampton, and 
 Huntingdon, wore a similar garb with all the ease of 
 custom and grace of habit, and looked in very truth an 
 English prince. Tall, broad-chested, brawny-armed, his 
 long light hair hanging in shining curls upon his shoul-
 
 76 THE BRIDE- ALE. 
 
 ders, his strong wrists circled with many bracelets, hands, 
 arms, and neck covered with blue tattoo-marks, he stood 
 by the East Anglian earl with a pleasant smile on his 
 ruddy face and in his sleepy blue eyes. ' This earle 
 Walteof or Waldene,' says Holinshed, ' was sonne (as ye 
 haue heard) to Siward the noble earle of Northumber- 
 land, of whose valure in the time of K. Edward the con- 
 fessor ye haue heard. His son, the aforesaid Walteof, 
 in strength of bodie and hardinesse did not degenerate 
 from his father, for he was tall of personage, in sinews 
 and musculs verie strong and mighty. In the slaughter 
 of the Normans at Yorke, he showed proofe of his 
 prowesse in striking off the heads of manie of them with 
 his owne hands, as they came forth of the gates singlie 
 one by one.' 
 
 But this doughty hero, this son of Siward and ^thel- 
 flsed, whom the Northern scalds celebrated in their sagas, 
 and who claimed relationship to the kings of Denmark 
 and descent from the Fairy Bear, — the great white bear, 
 the hound of Hrymir, who was credited with twelve 
 men's strength and eleven men's wit by the Norsemen, — 
 was not so strong of mind as of body ; the ' eleven men's 
 wit ' of his ursine ancestor had not come down to him. 
 He had not the indomitable spirit of Harold Godwinsson 
 or Hereward Leofricsson, and he succumbed to the finer 
 brain of the Norman general. He had done homage to 
 William, and had accepted the hand of William's niece 
 Judith, daughter of the Conqueror's own sister Adelaide, 
 and grand-daughter of Robert the Devil and Arlete of 
 Falaise, and, in return, the earldom which had been
 
 THE BRIDE-ALE. yy 
 
 wrested from him was restored — the Northumbrian 
 portion of it, at least, a barren waste by fire and 
 sword. 
 
 It was whispered that he hated his foreign wife, that 
 she henpecked him cruelly, and was but a spy set to 
 watch all his actions. Some thought the marriage, 
 instead of binding him to William's interest, would prove 
 his strongest incentive to revolt. 
 
 However that might be, Judith appeared at Exning 
 with an almost royal following, and was to fill the 
 honourable position of ' bride-woman,' as the matron who 
 in those days gave the bride away was then styled, and 
 whose place is now held by the nearest male relative. 
 Another change has taken place in marriage ceremonial. 
 Then it was the duty of the bridemaids to lead the 
 bridegroom to the altar instead of following the bride, 
 and Ralph de Guadcr was preceded by a bevy of fair 
 damsels, of whom Eadgyth of Norwich was the chief, 
 while the bride was conducted by a party of handsome 
 young bride-knights, almost as bravely attired as the 
 groom himself 
 
 Emma Fitzosbcrn still clung to the Norman fashions, 
 and wore a tight-fitting kirtlc of pale green samite, 
 embroidered all over with silver thread and pearls ; a 
 silver girdle passing diagonally round the hips, richly 
 gemmed with emeralds, from which hung a gipsire of 
 like material. A long underskirt of salmon silk fell to 
 her feet and trailed upon the ground behind her. Iler 
 little pointed boots were of green samite, wrought with 
 silver, and a splendid embroidered mantle, in which the
 
 78 THE BRIDE- ALE. 
 
 colours of the kirtle and skirt were subtly blended, 
 hung from her shoulders, and was held up by two 
 little page boys. Her auburn hair flowed over the 
 mantle, and was bound by a silver fillet, fastened in 
 front with one large emerald. Over face and figure fell 
 a veil of delicate Cyprian crape, flowered with silver 
 thread. 
 
 Green signified youth, and salmon or flesh colour 
 typified earthly joy. Her beautiful costume had been 
 designed for her by no less a person than her uncle, the 
 Bishop of Exeter, who was pleased to emulate St, 
 Dunstan by designing a lady's dress. 
 
 Judith, her bride-woman, on whose arm she leant, wore 
 a robe of rich red samite heavy with gold, and ostenta- 
 tiously Norman in style. Her tall, stately figure was as 
 straight as an arrow, and made a splendid foil to the 
 shrinking form of the bride. 
 
 Her clear-cut, cold features and sparkling steel-blue 
 eyes wore a sarcastic and critical expression, but she 
 acted her part with a grace and courtesy which the many 
 who longed to pass adverse criticisms on Jier could not 
 but admit to be perfect. 
 
 Emma felt a strong repugnance to her kinswoman, 
 the more so perhaps that Judith's features and eyes 
 reminded her of the king she was defying, and every 
 time she met their glance, a thrill of dread. and forebod- 
 ing passed through her heart. 
 
 The wedding procession was preceded to the church 
 by a dozen Saxon scops or bards, who sung each to the 
 sound of his cruit, a harp having five strings, yet afford-
 
 THE BRIDE-ALE. 79 
 
 ing a very sweet music, and by esquires and pages 
 strewing flowers ; and the guests were led by Earls 
 Waltheof and Hereford, the latter with his young coun- 
 tess on his arm. 
 
 The little church at Exning would not have contained 
 so great a company, but the fashion in those days was 
 for the bride and bridegroom to stand on the threshold 
 till the ceremony was almost concluded. After the 
 wedding ring had been bestowed with due ceremony, — 
 being placed first on the thumb and successively upon the 
 second and fourth finger, where it was allowed to remain, 
 that finger being supposed by the most scientific author- 
 ities of the time to be joined to the heart by a small 
 artery, — the couple entered the sacred portal, and ad- 
 vanced to the altar, before which the nuptial benediction 
 was given by the bridegroom, under cover of a square 
 veil, held aloft by four tall knights, and termed a 'care- 
 cloth.' 
 
 Wine, blessed by the officiating priest, was then poured 
 into a splendid golden bride-cup, in which was placed a 
 sprig of gilded rosemary, supposed to have the gift of 
 strengthening memory and increasing tenderness, and 
 many other good qualities. In this the bride and bride- 
 groom pledged each other, and it was then handed round 
 to all the guests. A wheaten cake, in token of i)lcnty 
 and fruitfulness, was then broken between them, from 
 whence we derive our bride-cake. 
 
 On leaving the church, the newly-made husband and 
 wife were crowned with garlands of flowers, and the Earl 
 of Hereford presented his sister with her dower.
 
 8o THE BRIDE- ALE. 
 
 The word bridal comes from the Saxon bryd-eala, 
 from a custom among that people of the bride selling to 
 each guest a tankard of foaming ale drawn from the tun 
 by her own fair hands, the price being at first paid in 
 kind, and consisting of a contribution to the banquet, by 
 which means the expense of entertaining a great com- 
 pany was lessened for the young couple. For this simple 
 exchange, more costly presents were substituted after a 
 while, a part of the custom which still survives, though 
 the bride no longer offers an equivalent. 
 
 This ceremony was magnificently observed at the 
 East Anglian earl's wedding, and Emma de Guader 
 dispensed the favourite Saxon drink in a glorious golden 
 beaker, which was of depth sufficient to try the wind and 
 capacity of the gallants, as they strove to empty it with- 
 out drawing breath, particularly of the Normans, who 
 were not adepts at the art of copious drinking. Many 
 and rich were the presents offered in payment, with fit- 
 ting good wishes and compliments, Waltheof bestowing 
 the most superb of all, a pair of Danish tores of that 
 beautiful gold filigree, the working of which was the 
 special glory of the Danish goldsmiths of that day, and 
 a white bear's skin of rare beauty and value. 
 
 A bountiful feast followed, pages and esquires, clad in 
 the colours of the nobles and knights they served, pre- 
 senting the dishes on the knee, one golden plate beino- 
 set between each lady and gentleman ; it being the duty 
 of the latter to carve choice morsels for his fair charge 
 with his dagger. Peacocks in their feathers, crane, heron, 
 and swan, porpoise, seal, venison, and boar's head, were
 
 THE BRIDE- ALE. 8i 
 
 amongst the delicacies ofifered, and the united science of 
 Saxon and Norman cooks achieved some triumphs of 
 cuHnary skill, we may be sure. A receipt for forcemeat 
 which has come down to us from those days, will show 
 they were no novices in the matter. It is to be com- 
 pounded of pork, figs, and cheese, moistened with ale, 
 seasoned with pepper and salt, and baked in a crust, 
 garnished with powderings of sugar and comfits. All 
 these good things were washed down with rare wines, 
 Gascon and Rhenish, with hippocras and pigment spiced 
 to suit the Saxon palate, with moral and mead, cider, 
 perry, and ale. 
 
 In all, Saxon profusion was united to the dainty 
 Norman cookery, and, under the influence of this heavy 
 hospitality, the male portion of the guests grew some- 
 what boisterous. 
 
 When the attendants brought in large Saxon drinking- 
 horns, filled with hydromel and beer, and marked with 
 knobs of brass to indicate to what depth the guests might 
 quaff without fear of intoxication, with cups of spiced 
 wine for those who preferred it, the bride arose from her 
 seat, her Norman delicacy already offended by the 
 copiousness of the potations. 
 
 Nevertheless, before she left, she touched her lips to 
 one of the hugest drinking-horns and pledged the guests. 
 Then she withdrew with the ladies of the company, 
 the Countess Judith casting a strange glance of con- 
 temptuous malice as she went. 
 
 The bride's challenge was, as may be imagined, received 
 with ready enthusiasm, and called forth such lusty cheer-
 
 82 THE BRIDE- ALE. 
 
 ing, that she had reached her bower ere it died away. 
 Before it had well ceased, the Earl of Hereford rose to 
 his feet, his proud young face full of wayward triumph. 
 ' Noble earls, barons, and knights,' he said, ' who honour 
 this board with your presence, ye have this day pledged 
 the health of the bridegroom, my noble brother-in-law, 
 the Earl of East Anglia, and ye have but now with a 
 noble enthusiasm pledged the bride, my fair sister. I 
 ask of you yet another pledge. Drink to the marriage 
 itself, in token that you, one and all, justify my noble 
 brother and myself in our defiance of the mandate of 
 the tyrant, William the Bastard, who strove to hinder 
 their union ! ' 
 
 Many a jewelled hunting-knife and misericorde flashed 
 in the air to show that their owners accepted the bold 
 pledge ; for in those wild days, when every man's hand 
 was against every man, it was the fashion that when 
 two drank together, each should hold up his dagger 
 while the other was in the defenceless position necessi- 
 tated by the act of drinking. 
 
 ' By the bones of King Offa, the founder of St. 
 Albans, whose holy Abbot Frithric sits amongst us 
 to-day, ye do well to support me ! ' said Hereford. 
 ' But I would have your hearts even more closely with 
 me ! To that end I ask ye to answer me a question or 
 two, ere ye drain the cup to pledge me. Shall I ask 
 them ? ' 
 
 ' Ask them ! ' shouted every lusty throat around the 
 board. 
 
 * I ask ye, then, my countrymen, you Norman barons
 
 THE BRIDE-ALE. 83 
 
 and knights, and you noble Bretons, who have fought 
 with us shoulder to shoulder, ay, and you valiant 
 Saxons, who were foemen worthy of his steel, was not 
 my father, William Fitzosbern, a good man and true ? ' 
 
 'Old!' shouted the men of Langued'oui, nor did the 
 Bretons or Saxons gainsay them. 
 
 'Did he shed his blood like water in William's cause? 
 Did he fight beside him in the thickest of the fray at 
 Hastings ? ' 
 
 ' Oui ! ' shouted Normans and Bretons, and the Saxons 
 assented with muttered curses. 
 
 ' Could William have conquered his kingdom without 
 my father's aid ? ' 
 
 * Non ! ' cried the Normans. 
 
 ' Then, I ask, is it fitting and just that William the 
 Bastard should refuse his sanction, when William 
 Fitzosbern's son pleads for it, to the marriage of 
 William Fitzosbern's daughter with a noble English 
 earl ? ' Here he bowed to Ralph de Guader, who had 
 risen and stood beside him. ' Is it not a threefold 
 affront to the memory of my father, to me his son, and 
 to my noble brother-in-law, the Earl of East Anglia?' 
 
 Normans, Bretons, and Saxons joined in a howl of 
 reprobation of William of Normandy's conduct, the 
 Saxons delighting to find fault with the conqueror of 
 their woeful land on any pretext, and boiling with wrath 
 at wrongs of their own. If any dissented, their feeble 
 voices were drowned in the outcry of indignation that 
 stormed round the board. The cups were drained to 
 the last drop.
 
 84 THE BRIDE- ALE. 
 
 ' William is no rightful Duke of Normandy, still less 
 doth it befit him to style himself a king,' cried a Norman 
 noble. ' He was born in adultery, and God favours not 
 the children of sinful parents.' 
 
 ' And born of mean blood 1 ' shouted another. ' Who 
 was Arlete of Falaise, the tanner's daughter, that her son 
 should be anointed king, even if he had been born in 
 wedlock ? ' 
 
 ' If a natural son might succeed to his father's honours,' 
 said the Earl of Hereford, his face flushed with the 
 success of his appeal, ' Nicholas, Abbe of St. Ouen, had 
 been Duke of Normandy, for he was the son of Duke 
 Robert's elder brother. As Nicholas was set aside on 
 account of his birth, so should William be. Guy of 
 Burgundy is the rightful heir ! ' 
 
 ' Nobles and knights of Bretagne ! ' cried the bride- 
 groom, less fiery than his Norman brother-in-law, but 
 speaking with a calm impressive voice, and flinging out 
 each syllable as if it were a challenge in itself, 'ye 
 who have so faithfully supported me in this land, which 
 is the land of my birth, but not of yours ! Men of 
 Guader and Montfort ! ye too have shed your blood 
 like water for the sake of this ill-born Norman, who had 
 God's own laws against him, and what reward hath he 
 given you ? Lands wasted by the ravages of war, 
 which when you have tilled he hath taken away again 
 to bestow on those who were higher in his favour ! 
 Some of your number he hath put to death ! Nay 
 more ! Bretagne still mourns her glorious Count 
 Conan, whom he slew with the coward's weapon —
 
 THE BRIDE- ALE. 85 
 
 poison ! — as he poisoned Conan's father Alain before 
 him ! ' 
 
 A low growl of wrath, terrible to hear, answered this 
 appeal. Many of the Bretons sprang from their seats 
 and bent over the table, shouting accusations against 
 William of Normandy ; for Ralph's cool determination 
 was inherited from his English father ; the men of 
 Lower Britain were characterised generally by the 
 hot-headed ness of their Welsh ancestors, which they 
 inherited with their red hair and fiery blue eyes, and 
 Ralph had roused them. 
 
 ' Ay ! he used that coward's weapon too on Walter 
 and his wife Biota in Falaise ! ' cried a voice above the 
 tumult. 
 
 'Remember how he banished William of Mortmain 
 for a single word, and gave his lands to Arlete's son 
 Robert ! ' cried another, 'He is hateful to all men ! 
 His death would give joy to many ! ' 
 
 Roger of Hereford whispered in the ear of the Abbot 
 of St. Albans. The venerable abbot was dearly loved 
 by the English on account of his vigorous opposition 
 to the Norman churchmen, and, in particular, to 
 Lanfranc, the Italian to whom William had given the 
 primacy, and whose untiring adversary he had been. 
 They loved him also for his share in the heroic attempt 
 made by Hereward Leofricsson to beat back the 
 invader. 
 
 The turbulent soldiers hushed their outcry as the 
 abbot rose to his feet, and stood waiting to address 
 them, his face seamed and furrowed by age and sorrow,
 
 86 THE BRIDE-ALE. 
 
 and his sunken eyes gleaming with a lustre that seemed 
 almost supernatural from beneath his snow-white brows. 
 Truly a dignified figure, in his splendid vestments, and 
 a pathetic one also, so worn was he by sufifering, so 
 trembling was the thin right hand in which he held out 
 the cross. 
 
 ' Earls, barons, and knights ! ' cried the old man in 
 his eloquent preacher's voice, ' the Earl of Hereford, 
 whose health ye have just pledged, has told me grievous 
 news. Know, all present, that he is an excommunicated 
 man ! ' 
 
 Many a cheek that had hitherto been flushed with 
 excitement blanched at that awful word ; and a silence 
 that might have been felt succeeded the passionate 
 uproar. Men cast questioning glances at their neigh- 
 bours, wondering each if the other would have strength 
 of mind either to retract or fulfil his pledges to a 
 man under the anathema of the Church, and which 
 alternative he would choose. 
 
 ' Yes ! ' cried Frithric, his voice rising clear as a bell 
 into the silence. ' The Norman Church has cursed him 
 by the mouth of that tool of William the Bastard, that 
 despoiler of saints and robber of sanctuaries, Lanfranc, 
 by the grace of that same William the Bastard, Arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury ! But the English Church blesses 
 him ! — the Church of St. Dunstan, St. Eadmund, and 
 St. Cuthberht, — of the blessed martyrs yEthelric and 
 yEthelwine, — whose holy members, Archbishop Stigand, 
 Bishop .^thelmjer, and Abbot Wulfric, now languish 
 in the dungeons of the tyrant ! In the name of the
 
 THE BRIDE- ALE. 87 
 
 English Church, I here pronounce that curse invahd, 
 and give my benediction to the man who has pity on 
 the sufferings of a hickless race, who will help to make 
 its oppressor bite the dust ! ' 
 
 Here he extended his thin hands over Roger's bent 
 head, and repeated the benediction. 
 
 The other bishops and abbots present ratified his 
 action, and the tension of the crisis gave way before 
 a fresh burst of cheering, louder than any previous. 
 Then Ralph de Guader turned to Waltheof, who 
 had sat very quietly through all the tumult, but had 
 shown during Abbot Frithric's speech evidence of rising 
 emotion. 
 
 'Valiant hero!' he said, 'hast thou no wrongs to 
 complain of at the hands of the man who has conquered 
 thy country, and robbed its princes and nobles of their 
 birthrights? who has murdered or driven into exile the 
 lawful heirs of its broad acres ? Hast thou no revenge 
 to take on him who harried thy patrimony, and made 
 it a barren waste, where even the wild beasts starve ? 
 Art thou appeased because he gave thee back thy 
 father's lands in such sorry plight?' 
 
 Waltheof rose to his feet like a giant newly awakened, 
 magnificent in his slowly aroused wrath, his sinewy 
 chest expanded, the muscles in his splendid neck 
 knotted like whipcord, and his blue eyes sparkling with 
 anger, so that he looked as if he were verily that Thor, 
 God of Battles, whom his Danish forefathers worshipped, 
 come down to earth. He tossed his mantle back from 
 his brawny arms, and his hands worked involuntaril}',
 
 88 THE BRIDE-ALE. 
 
 till the left sought the hilt of the jewelled hunting-knife 
 in his baldric, and the right was extended towards the 
 sky. His long golden moustache bristled till it stood 
 almost straightly from either cheek, and he shook his 
 yellow mane like a lion. 
 
 ' By St. John of Beverley, no ! ' he cried. ' The blood 
 of starved women and children cries for justice ! The 
 spirits of men whose flesh was eaten by their fellows, after 
 every horse and dog and cat had been devoured, call for 
 vengeance on the harrier of Northumberland ! Slaves 
 rattle their chains who through him sold their freedom 
 for food ! The sated crows and ravens alone croak 
 his praises from full maws, for they grew fat on the 
 unburied corses of those whose dwellings he had burned 
 and whose homesteads he had laid waste ! It would be 
 a sin to hold myself under bond to the tyrant ! ' 
 
 The Saxon thegns received this speech with wild 
 acclaim. 
 
 'Ay,' cried one from Hampshire, 'and as in the 
 north so in the south ! Other kings have hunted wild 
 beasts that their subjects might not be torn with them. 
 This scourge of God maims and slaughters his subjects 
 that the wild beasts may live for his hunting ! May 
 his New Forest prove a bane to him and his children ! ' 
 
 ' Noble Waltheof,' cried Ralph, ' the time is come 
 to avenge our wrongs. William is beyond the sea with 
 the flower of his chivalry, and hard beset by rebellions 
 and feuds in the bosom of his family, for such a tyrant 
 is he that his own kinsfolk hate him ! It is little likely 
 that he will come back, but if he does, it will be at a
 
 THE BRIDE- ALE. 89 
 
 disadvantage. Join us, thou whose stalwart arm struck 
 one Norman head after another from its shoulders 
 at the gates of York ! — thou who firedst the wood 
 wherein one hundred Normans sheltered, and slew 
 them as they ventured forth like rats from a burning 
 house ! Join thy twelve men's strength to ours ! 
 We three earls might be again as Siward, Leofric, and 
 Godwin. As if the Norman had not conquered, 
 Godwin's son would have held the throne, so shall 
 Siward's son be king when we in turn have laid the 
 Norman low ! ' 
 
 ' Waltheof Cyning ! Waes hael ! Waes hael ! ' cried 
 the thegns. 
 
 ' Call not the Bastard a Norman ! ' shouted the Earl 
 of Hereford. ' The Normans disown him ! ' 
 
 Then said Frithric, fixing his shining, mournful eyes 
 upon the Earl of Northumberland, — 
 
 ' Waltheof, son of Siward, let thy words be upheld 
 by deeds ! Thy hand was on the plough, and thou 
 didst turn in the furrow and make terms with the 
 spoiler of thy land. See to it, thou failest not thy 
 countrymen again ! ' 
 
 Turning to the Earl of East Anglia, he continued : 
 ' Thou also, son of Ralph the Staller, forget the evil 
 teaching of thy young da}'s, when thy heart was 
 weaned from thy father's land. Give thy manhood in 
 amend for thy youth, and Jesu pardon thee! Join 
 hands, ye two, and tender each a hand to this brave 
 Norman, whose soul revolts at the cruelties of the man 
 whom his father served, alas ! for evil as well as good !
 
 90 THE BRIDE-ALE. 
 
 Swear a solemn oath, ye three noble earls, to be true 
 to each other, and to right this much-wronged land ! ' 
 
 A huge cheer of assent burst from the followers of 
 the three earls, and they joined hands and swore a great 
 oath that they would unite to oust the tyrant from 
 the throne, and seat thereon in his stead Waltheof 
 Siwardsson. 
 
 And they settled it that Waltheof should bring his 
 men from the north, and seek assistance from his old 
 friend Sweyn, King of Denmark, to strengthen his 
 hands ; that Hereford should arm the west, and East 
 Anglia the east, and so enclose the forces of William in 
 a deadly triangle of hostile steel. 
 
 So ended the fatal bride-ale.^ 
 
 ^ See Appendix, Note A.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 DELILAH SPIEARS SAMSON. 
 
 On the morning following the bride-ale, Waltheof should 
 have been early astir, to the end that he might be pre- 
 sent at the bride-chamber to witness the presentation 
 of the * morning gift ' from the bridegroom to the bride, 
 according to the fashion of the times. 
 
 But alas ! the recreant hero lay stretched upon his 
 cushions in the oblivion of slumber, his gigantic limbs 
 outspread in the most complete repose, and his heavy 
 breathing witnessing to the depth of the potations of the 
 night before. 
 
 By his couch watched Judith, niece to the man against 
 whom the English hero had raged so potently, when the 
 generous wine had stolen away the caution that was 
 wont to ward his speech. 
 
 Her magnificent attire of the previous day was laid 
 aside, and she was dressed in a simple travelling gown 
 of grey cloth. 
 
 Her face wore a strange expression of triumphant 
 malice, as she stooped over the sleeping giant, and when- 
 ever he stirred or showed any signs of waking, she passed 
 her cool and slender fingers over his heated forehead, 
 
 91
 
 92 DELILAH SHEARS SAMSON. 
 
 and stroked back the thick golden curls that clustered 
 on his brow, mesmerising him to sleep again with her 
 gentle touches. 
 
 The day wore on, and the sun was high in the heavens, 
 and Judith's sharp, cold face grew more and more 
 triumphant. 
 
 A time came at last, however, when even her deft 
 fingers could no longer bind the wings of sleep, and the 
 earl opened his blue eyes with a mighty yawn, springing 
 into consciousness with an uneasy sense of having under- 
 taken heavy responsibilities. For Waltheof, like most 
 giants, was lazy, and though terrible when roused, had a 
 strong preference for quietness and peace. 
 
 Therefore he gave a great sigh when he remembered 
 the vows of the night before, and wished he were well 
 out of his hazardous undertaking. Ambition had small 
 hold of his nature, and he had far rather be an earl 
 in peace, than a monarch who had to fight for his 
 throne. Moreover, his religious sentiments were strong, 
 and inclined to an ascetic renunciation. Judith swept 
 back the curtain from the lattice, and let a flood of 
 noonday light into the hitherto carefully darkened 
 chamber. 
 
 Waltheof started. 
 
 ' It is noon ! ' he said. ' Why didst thou not wake 
 me ? By St. John of Beverley ! it was meet that I 
 should have attended the presentation of the morning 
 gift' 
 
 Judith knew that her lord was deeply moved, by his 
 invocation of the Northumbrian saint, whose name was
 
 DELILAH SHEARS SAMSON. 93 
 
 connected with all the wrongs that he preferred to forget 
 when he was in an amiable mood. Yet she answered 
 calmly, and with scorn in her voice, ' Who can wake a 
 drunken man ? ' 
 
 And the champion who had struck off the heads of 
 the Norman warriors, one after another, with a single 
 blow of his terrible seax, at the gates of York, was so 
 ignominiously under the rule of his Norman wife, that 
 he swallowed his wrath and made no reply. 
 
 Judith made haste to improve her advantage, and to 
 carry the war into the enemy's camp. 
 
 ' How I hate these Saxon excesses ! ' she continued ; 
 'only befitting barbarians, lowering men below the level 
 of the brutes, who eat when they are hungry, and drink 
 when they are thirsty, and abstain when want is satisfied. 
 Thou madest not a fair picture, Waltheof, lying sprawled 
 out and insensible in thy tipsy sleep, a prey to any evil 
 creature who had chanced to come thy way. Cyning of 
 the Saxons, indeed ! Learn first to be king of thine 
 own appetites ! ' 
 
 Waltheof started, and his brows knitted over his still 
 heavy eyes, 
 
 * How knewest thou that, witch of Endor ? ' he 
 demanded. 
 
 ' Nay, thou hast experience that the spirits of the air 
 are at my beck, and that my power serves me to gain 
 knowledge of all that concerns my dearly-beloved spouse,' 
 returned Judith, with a sneer. 
 
 ' Sorceress ! I believe, in sooth, thou art leagued with 
 the devil ! ' quoth Waltheof furiously, and his expression
 
 94 DELILAH SHEARS SAMSON. 
 
 was no metaphor. He was superstitious by nature, and 
 his sharp-witted wife had done her utmost to impress 
 him with the notion that her intellectual gifts were re- 
 plenished from supernatural sources. Hence her power 
 over him. ' But I tell thee, thou hadst better never have 
 been born than meddle in this concern of thy husband's. 
 For this concern is the concern not of my poor un- 
 worthy self, but of my country, of my people ! And I 
 tell thee, foreign harridan, I had liefer strangle thee with 
 mine own hands than be frustrated ! ' 
 
 ''Tis pity,' quoth Judith calmly, 'since the matter 
 is marred already.' 
 
 ' What meanest thou, viper ? ' shouted Waltheof, 
 fully aroused and springing to his feet, and advancing 
 towards Judith with a threatening gesture, his mighty 
 fist, which could have struck the life from her frail 
 body at a blow, clenched into an iron ball, and the 
 knots in his massive throat working with nervous 
 excitement. 
 
 But Judith faced him unmoved, her proud face flash- 
 ing with scorn. For the blood of Robert the Devil and 
 Arlete of Falaise was hot in her veins, and perhaps she 
 opined, also, that even in his wrath her heroic lord was 
 too generous to hurt her. She did not quail before him 
 but stood looking at him with her defiant, steadfast 
 eyes. 
 
 ' Slay me if thou wilt,' she said, without a falter in her 
 tone. ' That which is done cannot be undone. My 
 death will not hinder the stout messenger that sped 
 through the night, ere thou hadst reeled from the
 
 DELILAH SHEARS SAMSON. 95 
 
 banquet to thy chamber, from bearing the news of thy 
 treason to Lanfranc. In vain wilt thou seek to overtake 
 him, for he hath nigh a twelve hours' start, and he is 
 mounted on thine own Spanish destrier, the swiftest steed 
 in England — William's gift!' 
 
 The oath with which Walthcof answered was too 
 terrible for repetition. He sprang at his wife, and 
 clutched her slender throat with his strong fingers, as if 
 he were in very truth about to execute his threat and 
 strangle her. 
 
 She stood like a statue, though the weight of his 
 hands upon her shoulders almost bore her to the 
 ground. 
 
 ' My people are as dear to me as thine to thcc,' she 
 said, expecting the death-grip to follow her bold speech. 
 ' Thou hast sworn fealty to William, nay, thou hast done 
 him homage, and put thy hands between his and vowed 
 to be his man ; thou hast married me, his niece ! The 
 struggle and the bloodshed arc over, the Normans and 
 Saxons should be one, and thou wouldst renew the strife 
 and divide them again ! ' 
 
 With a moan like that of a wounded bull, the son of 
 Siward cast the grand-daughter of Robert the Devil from 
 him, and, covering his face with his hands, threw himself 
 back on his couch in an agony of thwarted and impotent 
 rage. 
 
 ' Hadst thou been a man!' he muttered, — 'hadst 
 thou been a man, that I could do battle with thee hand 
 to hand ! ' 
 
 'Had I been a man, Waltheof,' said Judith softly
 
 96 DELILAH SHEARS SAMSON. 
 
 kneeling on one knee beside her prostrate warrior, — ' had 
 I been a man, Waltheof, I had not been here to save 
 thee, and thy country, and thy people from the conse- 
 quences of thy drunken folly. Holy Mary be praised 
 that made me a woman ! Waltheof, what is thy love for 
 thy people, if thou wouldst plunge them again in blood 
 and fire for the vain hope of satisfying an impossible 
 ambition ? Was not the harrying of Northumberland 
 enough, that thou wouldst have the whole country 
 ravaged from north to south ? ' 
 
 No man of many words was the hero of York, and his 
 only reply to this eloquent appeal was to mutter an 
 occasional curse in his beard, nor did he raise his face 
 from the pillows among which he had plunged it. 
 
 ' I tell thee,' Judith went on, ' William would harry 
 the land from York to Hastings, as he harried it from 
 Durham to York, rather than lose it from his grip. And 
 thinkest thou that he whom Harold Godwinsson could 
 not baulk nor drive from the land ere one Norman 
 castle or stronghold was built in it, though he had the 
 full force of the Saxon chivalry at his back, could be so 
 easily ousted from the saddle into which he has climbed, 
 now the most part of the nation are dead, or ruined 
 and torn by dissensions and rivalry ? Thinkest thou I 
 would not gladly be a queen if there were any hope 
 of such an ending to thine exploit ? But seeing it 
 not, I have chosen rather to endeavour to save thy 
 life.' 
 
 ' Save my life ? Thou hast rather lost it ! Say'st 
 thou not that thou hast betrayed me to Lanfranc?'
 
 DELILAH SHEARS SAMSON. 97 
 
 He raised his head at last, and looked her in. the 
 face. 
 
 ' Nay, Waltheof !' answered Judith, softly laying her 
 slender hand upon his huge shoulder. 'The foreign 
 harridan loves her husband ! I would save thee, not 
 destroy thee. The letter was couched in thy name and 
 sealed with thy seal, and so writ as though thou hadst 
 but seemed to join the plot the better to discomfit the 
 king's enemies.' 
 
 ' Thou fiend infernal ! ' cried Waltheof, starting up 
 again in an agony. ' Hast thou so dared to sully my 
 good name ? — to paint me so black a traitor ? ' 
 
 ' Softly, my husband ! The vow that is first made 
 counts most binding. I would save thy name from the 
 foul stain of treachery to thy generous liege - lord, 
 William of Normandy, to whom thou didst homage in 
 person on the banks of the Tees, coming of thine own 
 free will to tender it, and accepting his forgiveness, his 
 friendship, and the hand of his kinsvv^oman. Yes — the 
 hand of thy poor wife Judith, who would fain lead thee 
 back to thy nobler self 
 
 The logic of this speech bore heavily on Waltheof, 
 who threw him.sclf down again upon the couch with a 
 curse and a moan. 
 
 ' Would that the sun had never risen on the (hu' I 
 first saw light ! ' he muttered. 
 
 Judith stretched out her hand and raised the golden 
 crucifix which was suspended by a cliain from her 
 husband's neck, so that it was on a level with his 
 eyes.
 
 98 DELILAH SHEARS SAMSON. 
 
 'Though we be of two nations, Waltheof,' she said 
 gently, ' we are servants of one Lord. The abbot who 
 bade thee plunge thy country afresh in blood and fire is 
 no true priest of God. And for my countryman, Roger 
 of Hereford, thinkest thou Lanfranc excommunicated 
 him for nought ? — Lanfranc, who loved him as a son. 
 Wouldst thou associate with one accursed? What motive 
 can he have in this save the slaking of his over-weening 
 pride ? As for the Breton, or the Englishman, or what- 
 soever he be called, Ralph of Guader, he who fought 
 against his people at Hastings can have little spur save 
 his own ambition. Wilt thou be the tool of such as 
 these? I tell thee, Waltheof, if thou by timely return 
 to thy sober senses dost frustrate the plottings of these 
 men, thy memory will be green in the pages of the 
 chroniclers, but if thou dost strengthen them in their folly, 
 the ages will curse thee. Without thee they are power- 
 less. It is thy name they conjure with, son of Siward. 
 What Saxon would fight for Roger of Hereford, the son 
 of their mightiest foe, or for the renegade, half-bred 
 Ralph de Guader? Go now to Lanfranc, throw thy- 
 self at his feet, and all bloodshed will be stopped.' 
 
 And Waltheof groaned, and kissed the crucifix as she 
 held it to his lips, for he was deeply religious after the 
 wild manner of his times ; humble in his faith, and little 
 dreaming that the Saxon Church he loved so well 
 would one day account him a martyr, and accord the 
 power of miracle-working to the tomb in which his 
 headless corse would repose, the trysting-place of count- 
 less pilgrims,
 
 DELILAH SHEARS SAMSON. 
 
 99 
 
 ' I would not willingly bring further suffering on my 
 unhappy country,' he said thoughtfully, 
 
 A gleam of triumph passed over the face of Judith, 
 for the fury was gone from his voice, and she knew that 
 she had conquered.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 
 
 Sir Aimand DE Sourdeval, after he had been for- 
 bidden by Eadgyth of Norwich to wear her colours 
 openly in his helm at the tourney, had cast about in 
 his mind for some means of so bearing them that she 
 should be aware that he did so, and she alone. 
 
 Accordingly, he had a new device blazoned on his 
 shield, — a star shining from a band of blue sky between 
 two barriers of sable cloud, with the motto, ' Lespcrance 
 vit dans le bleu', blue being the colour most affected 
 by Eadgyth, and to be worn by her, he knew, at the 
 bride-ale. 
 
 This shield he bore with brilliant fortune in the joust, 
 and plied his lance so well that the highest prize was 
 awarded to him, a lady's bracelet gleaming with many 
 gems, which Emma Fitzosbern handed to him with a 
 bright smile ; while Eadgyth, who stood behind her, 
 thrilled with pleasure and pride that the knight who had 
 placed his valour at her disposal had so worthily acquitted 
 himself, though it was but a painful pleasure, since she 
 deemed that an impassable gulf divided them, and she 
 grieved to see how, without wearing any token openly. 
 
 100
 
 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENAR V. loi 
 
 Sir Aimand still contrived to carry her colours. The 
 ingenuity of the homage touched Eadgyth to the quick, 
 for she was no coquette, and had no wish that a gallant 
 youth should waste his breath in vain sighs for her 
 favour. 
 
 So, when Emma with a gracious compliment crowned 
 Sir Aimand with laurel, and handed him the prize he 
 had won away from the many dexterous lances and 
 strong arms which had contended for it, Eadgyth's eyes 
 were full of ruth, and Sir Aimand, seeing them, grew 
 suddenly glad at heart. 
 
 ' Nay, noble Emma,' he said, declining to take the 
 bracelet from her hand. ' Though my lady's eyes are as 
 bright as the jewels that stud this golden circlet, they 
 look not upon me with favour, neither may I wear her 
 token in mine helm, nor place my trophies at her feet. 
 Bestow the prize, therefore, upon one of thy fair damsels 
 whose small wrist, pcradventure, it may be of size to 
 suit.' 
 
 So saying, he descended into the lists again, mounted 
 his steed, and rode away amid the cheers of the spectators. 
 
 Emma turned to the maiden beside her, and bade her 
 hold out her wrist. 
 
 ' I believe shrcwdl)' the bracelet will fit thuc,' she said ; 
 and Eadgyth, blushing, was obliged to obey, and saw the 
 jewelled circle! blazing rouiul her arm with strangely 
 mingled feelings of tiiimiph and sonnw. 
 
 On the day of the bride-ale, it fell to the lot of Sir 
 Aimand, as the youngest knight in Ralph de Guader's 
 following, to keep ward over the sentries of the camp,
 
 I02 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 
 
 and necessarily, therefore, to be absent from the banquet. 
 So, while his chief was pledging his guests with pledges 
 of dire import, and men were feasting and revelling and 
 vowing mad vows to help each other's treason, and follow 
 the three great earls in their wild enterprise, the un- 
 conscious Knight of Sourdeval was riding through the 
 starlit night from outpost to outpost, passing the watch- 
 word himself had chosen for the night. 
 
 ' Corage c bonne conscience^ he said, as he proved each 
 post. 
 
 'Fait tont Jionwie fort e fier^ answered each sentry. 
 
 For Sir Aimand, it must be admitted, was of a 
 romantic cast of mind, and threw himself heart and soul 
 into the fantastic images of chivalry which were then 
 being evolved by the brightest spirits of the age, and 
 never lost an opportunity of enforcing a good maxim, if 
 it were only in so small a matter as a watchword. 
 
 His young head was as full of schemes for the re- 
 formation and improvement of the world as that of any 
 modern Socialist ; and, having lately met a palmer who 
 had returned from a visit to the Holy Sepulchre, he had 
 fallen a-dreaming on his chances of ever being able to 
 travel thither himself, a project which had haunted him 
 for a long time with more or less persistence, and which 
 had started into prominence again in his mind since 
 Eadgyth had given so discouraging an answer to his 
 suit. 
 
 Being profoundly religious, he had been inclined to 
 believe that her answer was guided by Heaven to lead 
 him back to the less worldly scheme which had so filled
 
 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 103 
 
 hi.s heart before he met her, and which he must have 
 laid aside for an indefinite period, if not for ever, if she 
 had consented to wed him ; and he found comfort for 
 his wounded love in the thought that he was, perhaps, 
 to attain a higher spiritual life through the denial of 
 earthly joy. 
 
 So, as he rode under the sparkling sky, his breast was 
 full of a tender resignation, and the thought that he 
 was guarding the lady of his love caused him a quiet 
 satisfaction. He liked to feel that he was serving her, 
 and vowed to serve her no less zealously that she had 
 forbidden him ever to expect guerdon, and made all 
 manner of silent vows to prove himself worthy of the 
 love he had asked, and to live knight-like and piously, 
 and do his devoir to God and man. 
 
 So noble a frame of mind might well bring forth fruit 
 of song, and as he rode he hummed snatches of a lai 
 which had taken his fancy a few weeks before, when he 
 heard it from the lips of the author, a gallant minstrel, 
 who, like Taillefer the famous, was also a knight of 
 goodly prowess, and was devoted to the nobler branches 
 of \\iQ joyeuse science. 
 
 Sir Aimand sang but snatches to the jingle of scab- 
 bard and harness, but this was the poem at length : — 
 
 TTTI', WIIVTK LADVE. 
 
 Sir Bors went riding past a shrine, 
 And there a mayd her griefe did tyne. 
 
 O sweet Maryc!
 
 I04 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 
 
 A lilye maid with cheekes all pale, 
 And garments whyte, and snowy veil, 
 Shee bitterly did weepe and wail. 
 
 dear Marye ! 
 
 II. 
 
 Sir Bors beheld, and straight hys brest 
 For pitye 'gainst his hauberke prest. 
 
 O sweet Alary e ! 
 'Ladye,' quod hee, 'I love thee soe, 
 That I toe Deth wold gladlye goe, 
 If I might ease thy cruel woe ! ' 
 
 O dear Marye! 
 
 in. 
 
 Shee answered, ' In a robber's hold 
 Lies chained a comlye knight and bold.' 
 
 O siveet Marye! 
 ' Mine herte is fulle of dysnial dred 
 Lest hee be foully done to dedde. 
 For I have jDromised him to wedde ! ' 
 
 O dear Marye ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 Then grew Sir Bors as white as shee, 
 And never answer answered hee. 
 
 O siveet Marye ! 
 A cruel stound didde pierce his brest, 
 Yet soothly laid hee lance in rest, 
 And parted instant on his quest. 
 
 dear JSlarye ! 
 
 And whilom found the robber's hold, 
 And freed the comlye knight and bold. 
 
 O s"iveet Marye ! 
 And sette him on his own good steed 
 (Though inwardly his wounds did bleed). 
 And slript his hauberke for his need, 
 That he might be in knight-like weed. 
 
 O dear Marye!
 
 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 105 
 
 VI. 
 
 And ran before him in the mire, 
 That hee might fitlye have a squire. 
 
 sweet J/a/ye I 
 Then when they reacht the lilye maid, 
 ■ ' Behold thy comlye knight ! ' he said, 
 And saw her chaunge from white to redde, 
 Then, smiling, at her feet fell dedde. 
 
 dear Marye! 
 
 As Sir Aiinand hummed his song, a secret joy came 
 to his heart, for he felt that although his plight was sad, 
 being distasteful to his lady for his country's sake, at 
 least no 'comlye knight and bold' of any other nation, 
 Saxon or Breton, had forestalled him in her regard ; of 
 that he felt doubly assured, for, in the first place, if it 
 had been so, he felt convinced that Eadgyth would have 
 frankly avowed it, when he begged her permission to 
 show himself at the tourney as her knight ; and secondly, 
 the expression he had surprised on her face when he 
 had refused to take the prize bracelet. 
 
 Suddenly these dreams were interrupted. 
 
 The soldier banished the lover. 
 
 Sir Aimand checked his horse, and stiffened into 
 rigidity, like a pointer scenting game. 
 
 Trot ! trot ! trot ! The beat of a horse's tread leav- 
 ing the camp at a rapid pace sounded through the 
 darkness. 
 
 Sir Aimand struck spin's into his own gallant destrier, 
 and dashed forward in the direction he judged the horse- 
 man was taking, endeavouring to intercept him by cutting 
 off an angle. 
 
 The trot changed into a gallop, and though the
 
 io6 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 
 
 Norman knight even caught sight of a dark figure 
 hurrying through the gloom, he soon found that his 
 steed was no match for the one he was pursuing ; but 
 Judith's messenger had a narrow escape. 
 
 Returning to the camp, De Sourdeval questioned the 
 sentries ; but, finding that the horseman had issued from 
 the quarter occupied by the Northumbrians in the retinue 
 of Earl Waltheof, over which he had no jurisdiction, he 
 was forced unwillingly to let the matter rest. 
 
 Meanwhile the camp had grown quiet. The sounds 
 of revelry and the mighty chorus which from time to 
 time had burst from the palace — -Sir Aimand little 
 guessed their dire import — had ceased, and the silence 
 was only broken by the occasional neigh of a horse, or 
 whinny from some of the mules belonging to the 
 ecclesiastical guests, or the clash of a sentinel's spear 
 against his shield and jingle of his harness as he paced 
 his post, or perhaps some wandering owl hooting at the 
 disturbers of his accustomed hunting-grounds. 
 
 The east grew red with dawn, and Sir Aimand was 
 relieved from his watch by the knight next on duty, and 
 went towards his own pavilion to rest. As he passed 
 the quarters of the Breton knights in the East Anglian 
 earl's following, he was hailed by a group who were still 
 lingering at the entrance of one of the pavilions, and 
 talking together rather noisily of the events of the 
 evening. Some few of the Bretons were vassals to 
 Ralph de Guader, holding lands under him on his estates 
 of Guader and Montfort, but the greater number were 
 adventurers whom the earl had gathered round him,
 
 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 107 
 
 when he had determined to defy the mandate of William 
 a<7ainst his marriage These men were under the leader- 
 
 o o 
 
 ship of one Alain de Gourin, a bold and reckless soldier 
 of fortune, whose guiding principle was the lining of his 
 own purse and the obtaining a full share of the fat of 
 whatsoever land he might be living in. Between this 
 swashbuckler and De Sourdeval but little love was lost, 
 the Norman deeming the Breton a ruffian, and the 
 Breton despising the Norman as a prig, so a smothered 
 enmity was always between them. 
 
 Therefore it was with no great alacrity that Sir 
 Aimand answered De Gourin's hail, especially as he 
 guessed very shrewdly that the Bretons had not returned 
 very steady-headed from the banquet. 
 
 ' Gramercy, Sir Aimand ! Thou hast been out of the 
 world these six hours,' cried De Gourin, who had in- 
 herited the physical traits of his Welsh forefathers, 
 having blue, bulging eyes, and light e}-elashcs, and truly 
 Celtic flaming red hair, and was of a tall, wiry figure, 
 and capable of immense endurance, his age being about 
 fiftv. 'Come hither, lad! We have such news for thee 
 as will make th)- heart beat fiister, if thou hast the love 
 of a true knight for the clash of steel aiul the hope 
 of glory! lieshrcw me! the man who knows how to 
 wield his weapon will ha\e a chance to 'carve his way 
 to fortune e'er many months are i)ast and gone ! ' 
 
 Here a knight whispered to him rather anxiously. 
 
 'Tush! Sir Aimand had been at the banquet save 
 for the need of keeping ward on the camp,' answered 
 Sir Alain. ' I would have the pleasure of seeing his
 
 io8 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 
 
 delight ! ' he added, with a coarse laugh, and half forced 
 the Norman to enter the tent with him, when, pouring 
 out a goblet of Gascon, he challenged Sir Aimand to 
 pledge the enterprise. 
 
 ' Nay ! First I must know what it is,' said the 
 Norman. 
 
 ' To unseat that upstart and usurper, William the 
 Bastard, from his ill-gotten seat on the throne of 
 England, and to put a better man in his place,' answered 
 Sir Alain in a hectoring tone; 'and to win for ourselves 
 such good shares of the lands as is due to our valorous 
 lances.' 
 
 Sir Aimand started back, looking fixedly at the 
 Breton, and his hand instinctively sought his sword- 
 hilt ; but in a moment he regained his composure. 
 
 ' Methinks the earl's somewhat ponderous Saxon 
 hospitality has turned thy hot brains a bit, Sir Alain,' 
 he said contemptuously. ' Neither thou nor I are likely 
 to drink that pledge ! ' 
 
 Sir Alain smiled at him with an evil smile, but he 
 kept his temper. ' St. Nicholas ! But every man here 
 has drunk it this evening, and every man who sat at 
 Ralph de Guader's marriage board ; and, sooth to say, 
 if thou hadst been present to hear the list of that same 
 William's crimes that were brought up against him, 
 methinks so virtuous a knight as thvself had drunk it 
 too, with a rider to vow that such vermin were best 
 exterminated from the earth.' 
 
 ' It is true, De Sourdeval ! All drank the pledge, — 
 Normans, Bretons, and Saxons,' chorused the knights
 
 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENARY. 109 
 
 around. 'We are under oath to pull William from the 
 throne and set up Waltheof in his stead.' 
 
 * It cannot be ! ' cried Sir Aimand, overwhelmed. ' It 
 is treachery ! The earl cannot be guilty of such 
 baseness ! ' 
 
 * And who art thou to stigmatise as baseness what so 
 many men as good as thee hold fit and good ? ' chorused 
 the Bretons. 
 
 ' By the rood ! ye are scarcely fair to the lad,' said one 
 somewhat more sober than his companions. ' The com- 
 munication is sudden, to say the least. Neither did he 
 hear the eloquent catalogue of William's faults which 
 wrought our blood to the boiling point.' , 
 
 ' Nor would I have listened to a word of it ! ' cried 
 Sir Aimand fiercely. ' I would have thrown down my 
 gauntlet had it been the earl himself who traduced his 
 h'ege lord and king ! And what were ye for leal knights, 
 fair sirs, that ye gave ear to such treason ? ' 
 
 ' Look ye, my galliard,' said Alain de Gourin con- 
 temptuously, ' I should advise you to drop that hero of 
 romaunt strain, for it is a little out of fashion here and 
 now. By my halidom, thou wilt scarce find a foot-page 
 in the whole camp that will support thee! The fell- 
 monger's grandson has carried his tyrannies a little too 
 far even for the patient stomachs of his servile Normans 
 at last ; and as for us Bretons, wc have long bided our 
 time to pay him out for those dishes of Italian soup to 
 which he treated Counts Alain and Conan.' 
 
 ' I will never drop the strain whilst I have breath in 
 my body ! ' said Sir Aimand stoutly. ' Perhaps, when
 
 1 1 o KNIGHT-ERRA NT A ND MERCENA R V. 
 
 the morning comes, it will be you who will pipe to a 
 different tune, fair sirs. Let me pass, gentlemen ; I 
 would go to my pavilion.' 
 
 ' Not so fast ! ' answered Sir Alain, interposing his 
 bulky person betwixt De Sourdeval and the door of the 
 tent. ' Not until thou hast drunk the pledge ! It would 
 be scarce politic to let loose so puissant a knight while 
 he declares himself hostile to our enterprise.' 
 
 Sir Alain and the most part of the Bretons were in 
 their banqueting robes, armed only with swords and 
 daggers, but a half-dozen, at least, had prepared for 
 duty, and were in full harness, and these closed round 
 tlipir leader, and barred Sir Aimand's retreat. 
 
 ' Sirs,' said De Sourdeval, ' ye are six to one, without 
 counting unarmed men. If you stand not at treason to 
 your king-lord, ye will scarce be particular in giving fair 
 play to one who is true to him. But I tell you that ye 
 shall not force me into complicity with your traitorous 
 plans if ye hack every limb from my body. And I will 
 sell my life dearly, since every blow I strike will be for 
 my liege as well as for myself.' 
 
 ' Thou young fool ! ' returned De Gourin, ' we have 
 no wish to hurt a hair of thy head. Thou needest not 
 drink the pledge if it irks thee, but for our own sakes 
 we must shut thy mouth in one way or other. Resist- 
 ance to such odds is madness. Yield thyself a prisoner, 
 and the worst that will befall thee is a limited sphere of 
 action till such time as we can honourably exchange 
 thee against any of our members who may get into 
 William's clutches.'
 
 KNIGHT-ERRANT AND MERCENAR Y. 1 1 t 
 
 * Honourably! ' repeated Sir Aimand furiously. 'When 
 the combat is begun by throwing honour and devoir 
 and all knightly fairness to the winds ! ' 
 
 ' By the devil's own horns ! thou carriest the matter 
 too far for my patience ! ' cried De Gourin. ' Fight for 
 it, then, if thou wilt ! ' Drawing his sword, he made a 
 tremendous blow at Sir Aimand, who parried without 
 returning it. 
 
 ' I fight not with unarmed men ! ' said Sir Aimand, 
 and obtained a cheer from the onlookers, who dropped 
 the points of their own swords, as if rather ashamed of 
 the business. 
 
 ' Nay, if thou likest it better, and none of these men 
 will suit thee, I will go and put on my harness,' said De 
 Gourin. 
 
 ' It is not I who hesitate ! ' flung back Sir Aimand, 
 for his blood was up, and he threw prudence to the 
 winds. 
 
 ' Well crowed, Sir Victor of the Tourney ! ' cried Sir 
 Alain mockingly. ' Thou hast already unhorsed singly 
 more than one of us, why shouldst thou be awed by 
 our combination ? Sir Mordred here cut a shrewdly 
 laughable figure when thy thrust caught his jowl two 
 days agone ! Methinks his teeth must chatter yet! 
 No wonder he pauses before attacking so doughty a 
 champion ! ' 
 
 Sir Mordred, stung by the taunt, advanced on De 
 Sourdeval and attacked him fiercely ; but the Norman 
 held his own, surpassing him both in strength and skill ; 
 and in a few moments Sir Mordred fell to the ground.
 
 1 1 2 KNIGHT- ERR A NT AND MERCENA R Y. 
 
 cured for ever of the toothache or any other ache that 
 flesh is heir to. 
 
 His comrades, with a savage howl, closed on Sir 
 Aimand, and, overwhelmed by numbers, he was borne 
 down, and lay senseless and bleeding beside his slain 
 foe. 
 
 Meanwhile Judith's messenger was speeding on his 
 way to the Primate, while the unfortunate knight who 
 had striven so hard to stop him was thus foully en- 
 treated, lest he should himself be the bearer of some 
 such message.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 NORWICH. 
 
 Al<"TER the bride-ale the splendid company parted, 
 mainly in three great divisions : Earl Waltheof and 
 his following to the north ; Earl Roger to the west ; 
 Earl Ralph with his bride, his Norman knights, and 
 Breton vassals and mercenaries, his Anglo - Saxon 
 vassals and sympathisers, to the east ; a few minor 
 parties of independent barons, knights, and thegns going 
 their several ways. 
 
 The Earl of Norfolk and Suffolk and his train rode 
 forth along the old Roman Ikenield Street, which ran 
 then an uninterrupted course from within a few miles of 
 Exning to Norwich. 
 
 Do Guader rode beside his young countess on a gentle 
 hacqucnce, which paced quietly beside her palfrey, and 
 did not break in upon their converse by any pranks of 
 his own, his squire leading the fiery Oliver, and an 
 attendant following with a mule carrying his armour, 
 lance, and spear. 
 
 It may well be supposed thai llie noble bridegroom 
 
 spared no pains to make the time pass pleasantly for 
 
 his young countess, which, under the circumstances, was 
 
 11
 
 114 NORWICH. 
 
 no difficult task, for the mid-May weather was deHght- 
 ful, and whether they rode over heaths or through the 
 forests, which then spread over the greater part of 
 the country, they were surrounded with flowers and the 
 song of birds. The yellow gorse was gorgeous in the 
 open, filling the air with its almond scent, and the 
 whin-chats fluttered from bush to bush, trying to lure 
 them away from the spot that hid their nests. Over- 
 head the larks carolled and the sparrow-hawks poised 
 motionless, while round and about them darted the 
 busy swallows. 
 
 Where they passed a homestead, fruit-trees were gay 
 with blossom, apple and cherry and pear, and the 
 sweet-breathed kine were standing in the meadows, 
 knee-deep in the flower-jewelled grasses, for was it not 
 Tri-milki, the month when cows are milked thrice in the 
 day, according to the quaint old Anglo-Saxon calendar? 
 Now and again they met a shepherd with a flock of 
 ewes and lambs, or, more often, the inevitable Saxon 
 swineherd with his grunting pigs. 
 
 But alas ! they passed more often the blackened 
 ruins where a homestead had once been, for the curse of 
 war had desolated the land. Over the thatchless rafters 
 hung the white branches of the flowering May, the more 
 like snow, because no girlish fingers had stripped them 
 to deck Maypoles. 
 
 They journeyed also through many a mile of forest land, 
 where the great trees interlaced their boughs into the 
 beautiful arches which the Gothic architect imitated so 
 well in stone, and the wild birds thronged in undisturbed
 
 NORWICH. 115 
 
 security, countless in kind and number, and the antlered 
 stags trotted nimbly down the glades. 
 
 The greenwood in those days, however, had its dangers 
 as well as its delights. Wolves and boars and wild 
 cattle shared its shelter with the feathered songsters ; 
 and more formidable still were the indomitable Saxons, 
 who had sought refuge in the wilderness, and made war 
 without mercy on such of the conquering race as tres- 
 passed on their domain. Many a Saxon thegn, who had 
 lost house and land in the great struggle against the 
 Norman invader, had retired into the woods, and there 
 lived the life of a freebooter, some taking with them not 
 only their families, but their vassals and retainers. To 
 be an outlaw was accounted an honour by these men, 
 who would not acknowledge the right of the law-makers 
 to command. They swarmed even under the walls of 
 the Norman castles, and harassed the conquerors con- 
 tinually. Retaliation was sanguinary, and the unarmed 
 peasants were punished under pretext that they harboured 
 the outlaws. In return, the kings of the forest attacked 
 the English households who favoured the Nermans, and 
 every house was fortified to resist a siege, and stores of 
 arms and food were laid in ; at night the head of the 
 family read aloud the form of prayer then used at sea 
 in a storm, praying ' The Lord bless and help us,' to 
 which all present answered 'Amen.' 
 
 But the strong and well-armed retinue that accom- 
 panied the Earl of East Anglia's party assured safety, 
 and the most timid amongst the ladies could fear no 
 harm while surrounded by so many gallant knights in
 
 ii6 NORWICH. 
 
 all the pride and panoply of glorious war ! They made 
 a goodly sight as they moved along, the sunshine 
 flashing on their mail hauberks and high-peaked steel 
 saddles, and the wind fluttering the gonfalons on their 
 lances, their well-appointed horses snorting and curvet- 
 ting, a strong body of men-at-arms, bowmen, and 
 slingers following afoot. 
 
 Doubtless many a Saxon serf and bordar cursed them 
 as they passed, not knowing that the powerful earl who 
 led them had avowed himself champion of the Saxon 
 cause, and meant once more to raise the standard of 
 revolt. 
 
 Doubtless many a stout forester peered at them 
 from behind the shelter of green leaves, and raged 
 with impotent anger at their strength. 
 
 Perhaps others greeted them with courtesy and proffers 
 of friendship and offerings of game, for the outlaws con- 
 trived to be wonderfully well informed of the march of 
 events, and De Guader was keenly alive to the desira- 
 bility of making all possible allies amongst the scattered 
 English, and did not neglect the brave spirits who had 
 taken to the wilds rather than submit, and who wielded 
 so strong a weapon in possessing the love of the common 
 people. 
 
 However that might have been, they journeyed safely 
 through wood and wold, going slowly to suit the comfort 
 of the ladies, and the capacity of the sumpter mules, and 
 revelling in the bright spring weather. 
 
 Amongst the knights who pressed round them 
 Eadgyth looked in vain for the figure of Sir Aimand
 
 NORWICH. 117 
 
 de Sourdeval. Emma, happy with her bridegroom, took 
 no notice of his absence, till, on the second day of their 
 journey, the earl having left her side to give some 
 necessary orders to his train, she saw that Eadgyth was 
 sad and silent, and remembered that the hero of the 
 tourney had not appeared in the ranks of their escort. 
 She surmised that it was likely he had purposely avoided 
 companionship which could only lead to pain, and had 
 contrived to fulfil some other duty ; so, when the earl 
 rode up to her side again, she put some light question 
 to him regarding the knight, and was surprised to see 
 his face grow dark as thunder. He answered briefly, 
 however, that Sir Aimand was detained on business of 
 weight, and lunma, rather perplexed, did not venture 
 to question him further. At the moment the jester 
 Grillonne ambled up, mounted on a piebald nag with a 
 chuckle-head and goose -rump, and cut capers which 
 made both earl and countess laugh, so that the poor 
 Knight of Sourdeval was banished from Emma's 
 thoughts. 
 
 On the evening of the fourth day they came in sight 
 of the churches and trees of Norwich, with the newly- 
 built Castle Blaunchcflour rising in stately strength 
 above them (for no cathedral spire dwarfed it then), the 
 brilliant beams of the setting sun gilding its snowy 
 towers, and lighting the .square mass of the loft}- keep, 
 which still, after eight hundred years of war and weather, 
 stands firm and solid on its throne above the city.^ 
 
 Emma exclaimed in delight \\\\q.\\ she first came in 
 ^ See Appendix, Note B.
 
 ii8 NORWICH. 
 
 sight of this goodly castle, which brought home to her 
 pleasantly the power and wealth of her noble husband. 
 
 'A garrison of five hundred might hold it for ever!' 
 cried Ralph enthusiastically, ' if only manna would fall 
 from the skies to feed them, or that they might be fed 
 by a San Graal. That reminds me, sweet, thou wilt like 
 to hear my minstrel tell the story of Blauncheflour, 
 who was the betrothed of Percivale, the searcher for 
 the Graal. The fair white walls, faced with goodly 
 Caen stone, seemed to me in their invincible dignity 
 to resemble a pure maiden, so I named them after 
 her.' 
 
 Norwich in those days was surrounded by broad and 
 deep streams, at least five times as wide as its present 
 modest rivers, and the chroniclers of Edward the Con- 
 fessor's day record that the fisher-folk suffered terribly 
 through the receding of the waters. A sandbank some 
 distance out at sea was just emerging where Yarmouth 
 now stands, and sea-going vessels could make their way 
 past the walls of Blauncheflour. 
 
 The level of the water was many feet above its 
 present mark, and the castle was surrounded, and 
 rendered very strong, by deep ditches of early British 
 construction, on a similar scheme to those traced at 
 Rising, Castleacre, and many other places, where Norman 
 architects had availed themselves of the earthworks 
 constructed by earlier peoples. The castle was sur- 
 rounded by the circular moat which still exists, while a 
 large horseshoe fosse extended to the south, covering 
 the great gate of the castle, which was at the foot of
 
 NORWICH, 119 
 
 the existing bridge, which is of Saxon construction, and 
 measures forty feet in the span, being the largest remain- 
 ing arch raised by that people. 
 
 The great gate was a strong and imposing structure, 
 and had four towers, two at the base and two at the 
 top of the bridge, and was the only entrance to the 
 upper ballium, which was guarded by eleven strong 
 towers, and contained various halls and lodgings, beside 
 the great keep, which is all that remains to us. 
 
 The fortress might well look imposing, with its moats 
 and earthworks, strengthened by strong palisadings of 
 wood, its formidable walls and gate-houses dominated 
 by the great square tower, with many a pennon waving 
 from the topmost points, and warders marching to and 
 fro on the battlements, their glittering mail shining in 
 the sun. 
 
 Norwich was not a city then, the see of the Bishop of 
 East Anglia being at Elmham, but there was a monastic 
 church called Christ's Church where the present cathedral 
 stands, and the bishop had a palace on the site of the 
 well-known Maid's Head Inn of the present, the walls 
 of which were lapped by the river. 
 
 Hcrfast, who held the see from 1070 to 1076, had 
 been chaplain to William the Conqueror when he was 
 Duke of Normandy. It may be that lie somewhat 
 favoured Ralph de Guader, or chose to be blind to the 
 doings of the turbulent earl, for, though Norman of the 
 Normans, he bitterly hated Lanfranc, who had once 
 exposed his ignorance to pitiless scorn, and who un- 
 sparingly denounced his vices, bidding him 'to give
 
 I20 NORWICH. 
 
 over dice-playing, not to speak of graver misconduct, in 
 which you are said to waste the whole day ; ' and bade 
 him ' study theology and the decrees of the Roman 
 Pontiffs, and to give especial attention to the sacred 
 canons.' Also to ' dismiss certain monks of evil reputa- 
 tion.' At all events, he does not appear to have been 
 an active opponent to the East Anglian earl, and it 
 may be that he was not sorry that the archbishop he so 
 much disliked should have a little trouble during his 
 time of temporal power. 
 
 In the Domesday survey, made eleven years later, 
 ioS6, fifty-four churches are recorded, and 1565 burgesses 
 and 480 bordars were among the inhabitants. The 
 town was probably larger in 1075, ^s it suffered much 
 during the subsequent siege, and many an entry of 
 ' Wasta] ' tvasta,' ' zvasfa,' bears testimony to the sorrow 
 Ralph de Guader brought upon the place. 
 
 Where the busy market-place is now, spread broad 
 meadows for the castle use, called the Magna Crofta or 
 castle fee, and through them ran a stream, having its 
 rise on All Saints' Green, and flowing across the present 
 site of Davey Place to the river. The quiet Quaker 
 burial ground occupies the Jousting Acre, or Gilden Croft, 
 where many a noble knight gave or received a broken 
 head in sheer good fellowship and amiable love of 
 fighting ; and many a fair lady encouraged the giver 
 with smiles, or wept for the receiver. So the lovers of 
 peace sleep calmly under the sod that once was trampled 
 by the eager steeds of the men-at-arms. 
 
 Such was the Norwich to which Ralph de Guader
 
 NORWICH. 121 
 
 brought home his bride ; and, as they entered it, the 
 knights ill their retinue pricked their jaded steeds and 
 stirred their mettle, that they might prance sufficiently 
 gaily. The trumpeters flourished their trumpets, to 
 give notice to the good people that their earl and his 
 bride were approaching, and, though travel-stained and 
 weary, the cavalcade made a brave appearance. 
 
 Rich and poor, Normans, Saxons, Danes, Flemings, 
 and Jews, all of which nations were represented in the 
 town, — the last-named having made their first appear- 
 ance therein at the heels of the Norman invaders, and 
 being hated accordingly, — crowded into the streets to 
 welcome and admire the bride and bridegroom, or, at 
 the least, to render that homage which circumstances 
 rendered politic. 
 
 For it must be remembered that the dignity of the 
 powerful Earl of East Anglia was almost royal. The 
 feudal king was 'first among peers,' and the earls came 
 next to him ; even so late as the reign of Queen Elizabeth 
 the parliamentary formula of ro)al speeches was, ' My 
 right loving Lords, and you, my right faithful and 
 obedient subjects.' 
 
 The ' Ykenilde weie' entered Norwich where afterwards 
 stood the Brazen Doors, passing by All Saints' Green 
 to the Castle Hill ; the cavalcade so entering what was 
 called the New Burg, consisting of Norman dwellings 
 erected since the Conquest, which, then as now, took its 
 name from the Chapel in the h^'eld, and included the 
 parishes of St. Giles and St. Stephen's. Here the 
 enthusiasm was effusive, and a well-dressed populace
 
 122 NORWICH. 
 
 waved caps of rich fur in the air, while silken hangings 
 and gay banners waved from the windows. 
 
 It was with mingled feelings that Eadgyth of Norwich 
 re-entered her birthplace in the train of the Norman 
 lady. All her loving recollections were embittered by 
 the sight of changes that reminded her of the sufferings 
 of her people and the ruin of their cause, and the tears 
 came into her eyes when she compared the welcoming 
 crowd of foreigners that shouted around her with the 
 scenes stamped on her childish memory, when she had 
 seen the stalwart Danes and Saxons gather to greet 
 Harold Godwinsson, and heard their loud ' Waes hael ! ' 
 
 Storms of anger and jealous misery moved her as she 
 passed through the New Burg, for the smart dwellings 
 on each side of the street had all been built since the 
 Conquest, and showed the wealth of the invader. As 
 they approached the castle, her heart sank more and 
 more. It seemed to her as if its heavy foundations had 
 been laid upon her breast, so cruelly did it bring home 
 to her the strength of the yoke which was riveted upon 
 the necks of her people. For in architecture more than 
 in any art did the Normans excel the people they 
 conquered, and though the moats had been there when 
 Harold was earl, the fortress within them was but a 
 rude structure. 
 
 When they reached the castle gate, a lively scene was 
 enacted. The garrison marched down to salute the earl 
 and his bride, led by the castellan on a prancing 
 charger, and forming in glittering lines on either side 
 the Bale. There were companies of archers clad in
 
 NORWICH. 123 
 
 mail coats reaching halfway to the knee, over which they 
 wore jerkins of stout leather, their cll-long shafts stuck 
 through their belts, and their bows of yew, ash, witch- 
 hazel, or elm, held in their right hands, and capable of 
 despatching the arrows to a distance of from 200 to 
 300 yards, with little steel-caps on their heads shaped 
 much like the prim head-coverings worn by the Puritan 
 maidens of later times ; and men-at-arms, shining from 
 head to foot in chain mail, or with little steel rings sewn 
 thickly upon leather, armed with straight swords about 
 a yard in length, and wearing helms like upset saucers ; 
 others less heavily armed, bearing oval shields and long 
 lances, their shoulders and chests protected by glittering 
 capes of scale armour; and others again, still more 
 slightly armed, with lighter lances, and small round 
 shields not larger than dinner-plates, with which to 
 baulk a lance thrust ; slingers, with light tunics reaching 
 to the knee, and little or no armour, their weapon a long 
 pole provided with a loop, from which the practised 
 hand could sling stones with great force and precision. 
 A good two-thirds of the archers and slingers were 
 Bretons ; for the men of Bretagne were famed bowmen, 
 and furnished the chief contingent of the archers who 
 did so much execution at Senlac. 
 
 Besides these there were the engineers, who worked 
 the mangonels and catapults, and a large troop of smiths 
 and armourers, whose duty it was to repair with hammer 
 and anvil the damage done by wear and war to the 
 accoutrements of these various gentry, — in all some two 
 to three hundred men.
 
 124 NORWICH. 
 
 They rent the air with a great cheer, as they formed 
 in Hne before the carl and countess and their retinue ; 
 and the castellan, Sir Hoel de St. Brice, a knight who 
 had grown grey in the service of the Lords of Guader 
 and Montfort, and who had fought under the father of 
 Ralph's Breton mother, gave the cue, with a compliment 
 to the bride. 
 
 ' Long live the daughter of William Fitzosbern ! ' 
 he cried, whereat the soldiers cheered again. 
 
 Emma smiled and bowed, and tried to pay them 
 equal compliments in return. 
 
 'With such a castle, and such gallant defenders,' she 
 said, 'fear would be impossible, even if the blood of the 
 veriest coward ran in her veins instead of that of a hero.' 
 
 Whereat they gave still louder cheers, and vowed 
 that they would spend every drop of their blood to 
 defend her if need were. 
 
 Then the earl treated them to a little harangue. 
 
 ' He knew they meant what they said,' he told them, 
 ' for he had seen them fight, not only from behind stone 
 walls, but hand to hand on the field of Hastings ; ' and 
 added, 'that he was glad he knew their metal, for 
 perhaps it would be rung sooner than they looked for.' 
 An announcement received with vociferous delight by 
 the wild men of war, who scarce thought life worth 
 living in time of peace, and looked to the giving and 
 taking of shrewd blows both for amusement and fortune, 
 caring little in what cause they were bestowed. 
 
 While this took place, Eadgyth had turned her eyes 
 to the south-cast, the old portion of the town looking
 
 NORWICH. 125 
 
 over to the Thorpe marshes, where the bright Mary 
 buds ' had oped their golden eyes,' and the willows were 
 white with catkins, and the Thorpe woods were in their 
 fresh verdure. An overwhelming sense of desolation 
 came upon her as she marked the old familiar objects 
 among which her childhood had been passed — and more 
 forcibly as she noted the absence of others. She drew 
 her veil across her face, lest it should be seen that she 
 was weeping. 
 
 The cavalcade moved on again. Sir Hocl riding by 
 the earl's side. They passed into the northern end of 
 King Street, and so to the ancient palace of the East 
 Anglian earls, which stood where the St. Ethelbert Gate 
 is now, and had a chapel dedicated to that saint, who 
 had been a king of the East Angles, He was murdered 
 by Offa, King of Mercia, at the instigation of his wife 
 Quendrida. The head of the victimised prince rolled 
 down as his body was being carried away ; a blind man 
 stumbled over it, and, accidentally touching his eyeballs 
 with the blood, received his sight again. A well sprang 
 up where the head fell. So runs the legend. 
 
 At the palace they were received by a gaily-clad host 
 of servants and retainers. Brave squires and smart 
 pages, portly bursar and anxious steward, cellarers, 
 cooks, and scullions ; stately dames and pretty bower- 
 maidens, tirewomen, dairy and grinding-maids (for in 
 those days windmills had not been invented, so 'woman's 
 sphere' included the grinding of flour in a hand-mill), — 
 these, and many more, stood waiting in order of their 
 rank, and dressed in their bravest apparel.
 
 126 NORWICH. 
 
 Behind the earl's household was a still larger company 
 of socmen and slaves from the nine manors which 
 William of Normandy had bestowed on Ralph de 
 Guader when he gave him the East Anglian earldom, 
 making altogether a goodly crowd of retainers ; and 
 we may guess how they all strained forward to catch 
 the first glimpse of the noble young bride their lord 
 was bringing home, and how Emma, though well used 
 to homage, was glad to bow her fair head under excuse 
 of courtesy, and so hide her glowing face from so many 
 curious eyes. 
 
 On the plain before the palace, opposite St. Michael's 
 Chapel (Tombland), six fine beeves were roasting whole 
 for the entertainment of the populace, and a tun of 
 wine and several fat barrels of ale were broached, where- 
 with throats that had grown hoarse with shouting 
 welcome should be refreshed. 
 
 So came Emma, Countess of Norfolk and Suffolk, to 
 her new home in Norwich, where she was to spend but 
 a few short months full of terror, suffering, and sorrow, 
 and by her bearing under misfortune to prove herself 
 the worthy daughter of her noble sire, and to be known 
 in the pages of history as the heroine of the most 
 romantic incident in the annals of Norwich Castle.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LANFRANC, PRIMATE OF ALL ENGLAND. 
 
 Waltiieof, instead of continuing his journey north- 
 ward, left his retinue privily, and, with as small a 
 following as the state of the country rendered imperative, 
 made his way to Canterbury and craved audience of 
 the Primate, appealing to him in the double capacity 
 of a spiritual father, and, for the time, while King 
 William should be absent, as a temporal superior also, 
 the archbishop having been appointed justiciary of the 
 kingdom in conjunction with Robert, Earl of Morton, 
 and Geoffry, Bishop of Coutances. 
 
 After certain ceremonious delays, he was received. 
 Lanfranc, Archbishop of Canterbiu-y and Primate of all 
 England, was a man of high character and subtle 
 intellect, uniting the business capacities and breadth of 
 view of the man of the world, to the piety and earnestness 
 of a sincere churchman. 
 
 A Lombard by birth, he had attained eminence in his 
 youth as a law student at I'avia. His birth was not 
 noble, but his parents were said to have been of 
 senatorial rank, which indicated a good social position. 
 His eloquence as a lawyer was so great, that he triumphed 
 
 127
 
 128 LANFRANC. 
 
 over veteran opponents, and soon became famous. Italy, 
 however, was at that time torn by dissensions, and he 
 was early involved in political quarrels, so that he deemed 
 it wise to quit the arena of his forensic triumphs, and 
 to seek the less genial but safer climate of Normandy. 
 Here he soon attained high eminence, and opened a 
 school at Avranches, to which scholars came in crowds ; 
 but suddenly the illustrious advocate disappeared, and 
 no one knew whither. 
 
 He was discovered, some three years later, living the 
 life of a penitent in the secluded monastery of Bee, a 
 small establishment founded by his countryman Herluin, 
 but which afterwards became famous throujjh having- 
 supplied Canterbury with three archbishops. After a 
 time, Lanfranc became the prior of Bee, and was as 
 much sought as a religious teacher as he had hitherto 
 been as a lawyer. 
 
 In his newly-awakened zeal, Lanfranc took it upon 
 him to denounce the intended marriage of the Duke of 
 Normandy with Matilda of Flanders ; the Pope having 
 threatened excommunication, as the couple were within 
 the prohibited degrees of relationship. 
 
 One line day, the quiet monks of Bee, working in their 
 garden amongst their cabbages and onions, were surprised 
 by the advent of a gay company of knights in holiday 
 attire, surrounding an ecclesiastic who rode pompously 
 upon a fine white mule. The excitement increased to 
 boiling point when the visitor was found to be the duke's 
 chaplain Herfast, whom we have already introduced to 
 the reader as holding the Bishopric of Elmham in 1075^
 
 LANFRANC. 129 
 
 and that his retinue was composed of nobles high in 
 favour at the court ; and the much-impressed monks 
 hastened to tell their prior of the honour shown him. 
 But the prior was giving audience to a beggar, and 
 made the duke's emissaries wait till his conference was 
 leisurely concluded. He understood perfectly well that 
 William wished to bribe him, by this display of favour, 
 into giving his assent to the wedding, and he had a mind 
 to assert his independence. 
 
 Herfast was as ignorant as he was pompous, and the 
 accomplished prior took every opportunity of exposing 
 his guest's ignorance, even placing in his hands an 
 abcdarium, or spelling-book, to the great amusement of 
 the spectators and the huge wrath of Herfast, who rode 
 back to his royal master with a fine tale of the insolence 
 of the Lombard upstart. 
 
 William was so incensed, that he fell into a paroxysm 
 of rage, ordered Lanfranc out of the country, and sent a 
 band of soldiers to burn one of the granges of the 
 monastery to the ground, as a practical witness to his 
 anger at the way in which his courtiers had been 
 treated. 
 
 Imagine the consternation amongst the monks of Bee. 
 Lanfranc, however, was equal to the occasion. William 
 had ordered him to quit the country. But the brethren 
 of Bee were poor, and there were no parliamcntar)- 
 trains in those dark ages to carr)- passengers from one 
 end of a country to the other for a penny a mile. They 
 must travel in the saddle or on foot. Churchmen, for 
 the most part, patronised mules of considerable size and
 
 130 LAN FRANC. 
 
 high breeding, and journeyed in no small state. But the 
 only animal the stables of Bee could boast was a sorry 
 steed, angular of joint and far from sound. None the 
 less the prior mounted it, and set off for Rouen, where 
 he had been bidden to appear before the duke ere he 
 quitted the country. 
 
 William came forth to meet the haughty churchman, 
 who had dared to thwart and condemn him, and to 
 make fun of his chaplain, accompanied by a gallant 
 train of knights and squires. He expected to meet a 
 cavalcade almost as numerous and magnificent as his 
 own. 
 
 His face was dark with anger, and he wrapped himself 
 in thoughtful taciturnity, meditating a rebuke befitting 
 the insolence with which his condescension and favour 
 had been met. 
 
 He grew impatient when along the straight level road 
 nothing could be seen but a single horseman on a lame 
 jade, whose nose almost touched the ground at every 
 step, and whose pace was easily kept up with by a 
 follower on foot. 
 
 As this sorry trio approached, however, he saw that 
 the men were habited as monks, and Herfast, who rode 
 beside his royal master on his sleek white mule, flushed 
 deeply red. 
 
 "Tis Lanfranc himself!' he exclaimed. 
 
 * What new mummery is this ? ' demanded William, 
 his keen eyes straying over the comical figure of the 
 prior and his wretched mount, and a smile gleaming over 
 his stern face, brief but irrepressible, for William was a
 
 LANFRANC. 131 
 
 lover of horseflesh, and spared no pains or expense in 
 the importation of fine horses from Spain for his own 
 use. The creature he bestrode was a splendid animal, 
 and the strongest of contrasts to the prior's pitiful nag. 
 
 Slight as the smile was, and hastily repressed, 
 Lanfranc saw it, and took instant advantage. 
 
 ' By your commands,' said the audacious prior airily, 
 ' I am leaving your dominions, but it is only at a foot's 
 pace that I can proceed on such a wretched beast as 
 this ; give me a better horse, and I shall be better able 
 to obey your commands.' 
 
 William had a keen sense of humour, and perhaps felt 
 that the clever Lombard would be a formidable foe. 
 
 He laughed a royal laugh of magnificent amusement. 
 'Who ever heard before,' he asked, 'of an offender 
 venturing to ask a donation from the vcr}- judge he has 
 offended ? ' 
 
 Herfast grew redder than ever with chagrin and 
 mortification, for he saw very plainly that the subtle 
 prior had mollified the duke by his intrepid joke. And 
 so it was, and from this strange meeting resulted no less 
 a matter than the establishment of a fricndshi[) which 
 lasted till William's death. 
 
 Not long afterwards, Lanfranc went to Rome to plead 
 with the Pope, and urge him to give his sanction to that 
 marriage which the prior had hitherto opposed so 
 bitterly. And this he did without inconsistency, for his 
 opposition had been based upon William's defiance of 
 the Holy See ; when, therefore, he persuaded the 
 haughty duke to humble himself, and plead meekly for
 
 T32 LANFRANC. 
 
 a dispensation, with promises that he and his bride 
 would bind themselves to many duties in return, amongst 
 others, to endow each an abbey and two hospitals, 
 the seeming submission of Lanfranc was really a 
 triumph. 
 
 After a while, though much against his will, Lanfranc 
 was induced to leave Normandy, and assume the onerous 
 post of Primate of William's newly-conquered kingdom 
 of England. He even appealed to Pope Alexander II. 
 to extricate him from the difficulties of such high office, 
 and to permit him to return to the monastic life, which 
 above all things delighted him. But the Pope refused 
 to interfere, and Lanfranc accepted the inevitable, 
 and set to work with courageous zeal to make the best 
 of his manifold duties. And he acquitted himself like 
 a brave and good man, steering a wise course amongst 
 the jealous Normans a.nd aggrieved Saxons, selecting 
 virtuous men to fill the posts which became vacant ; 
 and though, no doubt, partaking the prejudices of the 
 conquerors, yet securing good men amongst the Saxon 
 clergy as friends. The Church of England owes much 
 to him, for he was distinctly an imperialist, and stoutly 
 resisted papal aggression, laying the seeds of that 
 nationality which has saved us from so many evils. 
 
 It may be imagined that the simple-minded and 
 gentle Waltheof, much more adept at wielding a seax 
 than at chopping logic, and who was as wax in the hands 
 of his clever wife, was as water under the treatment of 
 this subtle Lombard, who could mould to his wishes 
 even the self-willed and astute William,
 
 LANFRANC. 133 
 
 The archbishop received the Earl of Northumberland 
 with much pomp and circumstance, giving him the 
 ceremonious honour due to his high rank and his position 
 as husband of the king's niece, so that Waltheof had to 
 beg for a private interview. 
 
 This being granted, the unhappy hero knew not how 
 to begin his forced confession, and the keen black eyes 
 with which Lanfranc searched his face did not lessen 
 his confusion. 
 
 But the archbishop had no intent to deal harshly 
 with his illustrious penitent. 
 
 His features softened with a winning smile. 'What 
 hast thou to say to me, my son?' he asked in a gentle 
 voice. ' Why hesitate ? Dost thou not know mc for a 
 true friend ? ' 
 
 ' Alas, father ! I have a sad talc of sin and weakness 
 to reveal to thine ears,' said the son of Siward at length. 
 * But I [)ray thee advise me. I have taken an oath, and 
 since then, heated with wine, and somewhat overawed 
 by numbers, I have taken a second contrary thereto. 
 By which am I bound ? Am I forsworn in that, notwith- 
 standing this second oath, I sent the messenger to thee, 
 who, if nought mischanced, reached Canterbury some 
 four days agone ? ' 
 
 'Thou hast sinned, my son, answered the archbishop 
 gravely ; ' but not so heavily but that, after due penance, 
 the offence may be pardoned. An unwilling oath, taken 
 under the compulsion of an excited crowd, can scarce 
 bind as that which was the fruit of calm reflection and 
 sober judgment. Rather must it be accounted evil in
 
 134 LAN FRANC. 
 
 thee, that thou didst consort with a man who was 
 anathema of the Holy Church.' His mobile face grew 
 stern, but it was a sternness not unmixed with sorrow. 
 
 ' Nay,' answered Waltheof eagerly, ' I knew not of 
 that till the banquet was well-nigh ended, when it was 
 impossible to turn back.' 
 
 He was relieved at the tone of the archbishop, yet 
 could not keep reflecting bitterly in his heart, that this 
 light treatment of a forced oath when taken by the son 
 of Siward against William, was very different to the 
 view taken of that made by the son of Godwin for 
 William. Harold had been branded a perjurer for 
 abjuring a forced oath. 
 
 ' Nevertheless,' said the archbishop, not yet relaxing 
 his face, 'thou hadst knowledge that the men whose 
 bread v\as broken for thee were acting in direct opposi- 
 tion to the mandate of thy king-lord and kinsman, whose 
 clemency had pardoned thy former misdeeds against 
 him, whose hand had been reached to thee in fellowship, 
 and whose niece had been given to thee to be bone of 
 thy bone, flesh of thy flesh.' 
 
 ' In good sooth, father,' replied Waltheof reluctantly, 
 and with the air of a schoolboy repeating a lesson by 
 rote, ' I thought mine uncle and king-lord was play- 
 ing a somewhat tyrannical part in dividing two true 
 lovers. I see now that he had reasons which I little 
 suspected.' 
 
 This defence had been suggested by Judith. 
 
 Lanfranc's fine sensitive face grew sad. Speaking in 
 a low, sorrowful voice, as though the subject caused him
 
 LANFRANC. 13S 
 
 inexpressible pain, he said, ' My son, it was not for light 
 or frivolous reasons that William our king-lord interfered 
 to thwart the wishes of his earls. Nor was it without 
 cause, or, in truth, without grievous necessity, that I 
 declared the anathema of the Holy Church against the 
 son of the man who did more than any other to crown 
 our Norman duke an English king. Had it been but a 
 question of a marriage,' the archbishop continued in the 
 same strain, but in a still softer tone, and rather as if 
 speaking to himself than to the earl, ' God forbid that 
 I should have parted whom He had elected in His all- 
 seeing wisdom to unite!' He sighed deeply, for in his 
 youth he had been the husband of a much-loved wife, 
 whose death had taken all flavour from earthly joy for 
 him, and had been the cause of his precipitate retreat 
 from a position of wealth and fame, to seek consolation 
 in the cloister. ' I have loved Roger Mtzosbern as a 
 son : I have striven with him in affection ! But, alas ! 
 in vain. One folly was added to another, until at last 
 foolishness swelled into crime. lie denied justice to 
 the injured. He invaded the property of his king-lord, 
 and of his peers ; and now he has crowned all by this 
 attempted treason, brought to the light at the unholy 
 banquet at which thou wert thyself tempted to evil, 
 Waltheof ! Ah ! I have wept tears of blood over this 
 lost sheep. Would that my efforts had recalled him to 
 the fold ! JUit the time is past.' 
 
 He stretched out his thin, transparent hands before 
 him, his dark eyes fi.xed upon space, as if contemplating 
 a vision of the bloodshed to come.
 
 136 LANFRANC. 
 
 He was silent, and Waltheof, being a man of few 
 words, was silent also. 
 
 Suddenly the Lombard turned his gleaming eyes upon 
 the Northumbrian earl. Waltheof started, for in his 
 heart was no repentance for having attended the banquet, 
 nor for any of his treasonable designs, but only a fierce 
 wrath against the Norman wife who had defeated his 
 plans, and brought him more tightly under the yoke he 
 hated, and it seemed to him as if those dark eyes could 
 read his most secret thoughts. He shifted his huge frame 
 uneasily, so that the bracelets which ringed his tattooed 
 arms almost to the elbow, clanged together, and his 
 large fingers sought the jewelled haft of the hunting- 
 knife which hung at his baldric, not threateningly, but 
 from habit. 
 
 Yet if his thoughts were read, they were ignored. 
 
 ' But thou at least art here I ' Lanfranc exclaimed, 
 his mobile features lighted b)' a brilliant smile. ' Thy 
 better angel has prevailed, and, by the mercy of Our 
 Lady, has brought thee back to the fold at the eleventh 
 hour.' 
 
 Waltheof looked relieved, and he lifted his head and 
 tossed back the yellow mane which had fallen over his 
 face. 
 
 ' I pray thee, father,' he said earnestly, encouraged by 
 the Primate's smile ; ' stand by me in my trouble, and 
 plead my cause with William of Normandy. TJioii hast 
 the power to influence him. Advise me how I may best 
 act to win his pardon for my transgression ; how best 
 assure him of the sincerity of my return to allegiance.'
 
 Walthfiof s Ilumiliation.
 
 LANFRANC. i37 
 
 ' I will stand by thee, my son,' replied the archbishop, 
 clasping Waltheof's great hand in his slender fingers. 
 And he fulfilled his promise with unswerving fidelity, 
 even to the last, when the unfortunate son of Siward 
 lay doomed to death in prison ; nor, if Lanfranc could 
 have prevented it, would William have consummated 
 that greatest blot upon his reign, the execution of the 
 Northumbrian carl. 'Thou art impulsive, my son, and 
 simple-minded, and therefore easily snared. But I 
 believe not that thy heart is evil, or that thou wouldst be 
 other than a pious son of our Holy Mother Church.' 
 
 ' No, indeed ! ' said Waltheof, much affected by the 
 appeal, which roused all the natural piety and humility 
 of his nature. He crossed himself with much fervour. 
 'Tell me what to do, father. Whatever thou wilt 
 command I will perform.' 
 
 ' My son, I would bid tlicc cross the sea to Normandy 
 and seek William in person, confessing all frankly, and 
 throwing thyself on his mercy. Nor would it be 
 detrimental to thy suit if thy hands bore somewhat of 
 the produce of the lands and honours he has bestowed 
 upon thee with so lavish a generosity.' 
 
 Waltheof shuddered. It was no pleasant prospect to 
 the powerful earl, whose head had of late been so filled 
 with schemes of ambition, thus to humble himself a 
 second time to the conqueror of his people. 
 
 But Waltheof's courage was more of the physical order 
 than the moral. He was, besides, of gentle disposition, 
 and sincerely desired to avert bloodshed, and he thought 
 that his defection from the ranks of the conspirators
 
 138 LANFRANC. 
 
 would prevent any attempt to meet William in the 
 field. 
 
 Therefore he bowed his head. ' Thine advice is meet, 
 father,' he said ; ' I will cross the seas and seek William, 
 bearing rich presents to testify my regret for the past, 
 and present goodwill.'
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE CASTELLAN OF BLAUNCIIEFLOUK. 
 
 Ralph DE Guauer had said little to his bride of 
 the proceedings at the marriage festivities, but a time 
 came when it was necessary for him to break in upon 
 their brief honeymoon with rumours of war, for it was 
 not possible to hide the fact that he must take the 
 field in defence of life and liberty. 
 
 The defection of Walthcof had been a great blow to 
 the conspirators ; his untimely betrayal of their plans 
 was more serious still, as their chance of success la)' 
 chiefly in the hope of taking the king's forces by 
 surprise. 
 
 Waltheof himself had supposed that his course would 
 altogether put a stop to the undertaking, seeing that 
 his two brother earls had represented that to place him 
 on the throne was its chief object. 
 
 But Dc Guader and Fitzosbern were too proud to 
 give up their hopes of aggrandisement so easily, and, 
 moreover, their case was desperate. If they submitted 
 at once and unconditionally, they could only look for- 
 ward to disgrace and imprisonment, whereas the chances 
 of battle might still be in their favour. It was not 
 
 13!)
 
 I40 THE CASTELLAN OF DLAUNCHEFLOUR. 
 
 wonderful, therefore, that they elected to fight it out, 
 notwithstanding the odds against them. 
 
 The Earl of Norfolk and Suffolk had assembled his 
 forces, and held all in readiness for departure on the 
 morrow. The dreaded moment had come, and he 
 sought his wife's bower, feeling that he would much 
 liefer meet William's men-at-arms. 
 
 It was a sunny little room on the east side of the 
 palace, looking over the marshes of the low holme which 
 then bordered the Wensum with a wilderness of sedges 
 and white water-lilies, and upon which, some eleven 
 years later, Herbert de Losinga erected the cathedral 
 which is our present pride and joy. 
 
 Emma loved to watch the high-prowed galleys pa.ss- 
 ing to and fro upon the river, with sails spread, and 
 oars flashing, and stout rowers bending to their work ; 
 and to see them lading and unlading at Lovelly's Staithe, 
 a wharf situated about a third of the distance between 
 the present ferry and Foundry Bridge. 
 
 Here Eadgyth would entertain her with stories of her 
 girlhood, and tell how she had seen her cousin, Harold 
 Godwinsson, land at that wharf, when he came to 
 Norwich after his imprisonment in Normandy ; and 
 how Leofric, Earl of Mercia, to whom the sainted King 
 Eadward had given the East Anglian earldom in Harold's 
 absence, met him with all honour ; and of the magnani- 
 mous strife between the two, when Leofric would give 
 back the earldom, and Harold would fain have had him 
 keep it ; and how Harold took it for a time, but returned 
 it on ascending the throne.
 
 THE CASTELLAN OF BLA UNCHEFLOUR. 141 
 
 And when the white swans came saihng amongst the 
 reeds, bending their long necks from side to side, the 
 Saxon maiden would tell her friend of Harold's beloved, 
 her namesake Eadgyth Swannchals, the most beautiful 
 woman in Norfolk, or, for the matter of that, in all 
 England, and would burst into tears when she thought 
 of the sad ending of that fair romance. 
 
 And Emma would smile at her enthusiasm, but yet 
 grew in sympathy with this English people, the smoke 
 of whose dwellings was rising around her, and alijiost 
 found it in her heart to wish that her hero William had 
 been a little less successful, and to question whether it 
 had not been more virtuous of him to stay at home in 
 his native Normandy. Somehow she had never ad- 
 mired him so freely since he had endeavoured to part 
 her from her betrothed. 
 
 In such a mood as this was Emma when her husband 
 sought her, with the intention of telling her the secret 
 of his bold enterprise, but he little guessed how much 
 her sympathies had turned against William, for, as is 
 often the case when convictions are changing, she had 
 made up for her coldness of feeling by warmth of speech, 
 and had souc^ht so to atone for her act of rebellion in 
 marrying Ralph against the king's mandate. 
 
 Therefore the earl knew not how to begin his explana- 
 tion, and sat before her embroidery frame almost as 
 deeply embarrassed as Waltheof had been before the 
 archbishop. 'Tis true he had told her ere their wedding 
 that the quarrel must needs be fought out, yet it .seemed 
 not the easier to say, ' My standard is lifted.'
 
 142 THE CASTELLAN OF BL^AUNCHEFLOUR. 
 
 His face was ashy pale, for it was to him cruel as 
 death to leave his young bride before a month had 
 passed, although he had known that the parting must 
 come. 
 
 Emma, looking at him, dropped her silks in horror, 
 and, throwing her arms round his neck, asked coaxingly 
 what ailed him. 
 
 And Ralph turned his head away without speaking. 
 
 'Can it be that I have offended thee in aught?' asked 
 the young countess anxiously. 
 
 ' Nay, Emma, I am the offender, if offender there be. 
 Methinks the worst of all ailments is mine, for I must 
 leave thee, and perchance anger thee also.' 
 
 ' Leave me ? ' Her breath caught in a sob of terror. 
 
 Ralph faced her desperately. ' My love, thou knowest 
 our wedding was against the express mandate of the 
 king. Lanfranc, the king's man, whom he made 
 Primate of all England, — in place of the holy Stigand, 
 whom he unjustly deprived, and who yet languishes 
 in prison, — hath turned bitterly against thy brother 
 of Hereford, whom whilom he was wont to treat as 
 a son, and has set a ban of excommunication upon 
 him.' 
 
 A low cry of horror escaped from Emma. 
 
 Ralph's eyes flashed fire. He caught his wife's white 
 hands as they were sliding dov.m from his neck, half 
 withdrawn at the fear that her love had led her into 
 deadly sin, since the brother who had countenanced her 
 marriage, and urged her to its fulfilment, was cast out 
 by the Church,
 
 THE CASTELLAN OF BLAUNCHEFLOUR. 143 
 
 He understood the loosening of her clasp, and caught 
 her hands as a protest. 
 
 * Emma,' he cried, ' thou hast taken me for better or 
 worse. I hoped to have made thee the second lady in 
 the land. But alas ! I must fight to hold mine own, 
 nay, for dear life, — life which is precious for thy 
 sake.' 
 
 ' I do not regret my choice,' said Emma, meeting his 
 gaze with her frank eyes, her proud Fitzosbern spirit 
 rising to the test. ' Only I fear lest I have sinned in 
 taking thee against the will of my king-lord and the 
 voice of the Holy Church.' 
 
 ' Say rather the voice of William's creature, — a 
 Lombard upstart, without a drop of noble blood in his 
 veins. Dost thou forget the holy men who blessed our 
 union and gave it the sanction of the Church ? They 
 blessed thy brother for taking up the cause of an 
 oppressed people. Shall the curses of the wily Italian 
 have more weight than their benedictions? Dost thou 
 throw over thy brother so easily to his untender 
 mercies ? ' 
 
 'Alas! I am bewildered amid so many conflicting 
 counsels,' Emma sighed. 
 
 ' This poor land and all who are in it are so bewildered, 
 my sweet lady,' Ralph answered, kissing the hands he 
 still held. ' None can seethe right clear!}'. William — 
 the Conqueror, as he proudly styles himself — liath gone 
 mad with his success, and the luckless people groan 
 under his tyrann}'. Would I had never helped him to 
 leave his duchy of Normandy! But it is useless to
 
 1 44 THE CA S TELL A N OF BLA UNCHEFL UR. 
 
 groan over the past, nor can I stop to chop logic over 
 the present. The point is this : The king's men are 
 marching to attack me. My only course is to fight for 
 it, and, if possible, make a junction with thy brother 
 Roger, when it may be that the oppressed Saxons will 
 strike a blow to regain their freedom, and, with my 
 trusty Bretons, I may still gain the day.' 
 
 Emma clasped her hands in sore distress, 
 
 ' Is it in good sooth come to this, that thou must go 
 forth against the king? Alas ! my foolish face tempted 
 thee to wrong. 'Tis I that am to blame.' 
 
 Ralph caught her to him and kissed her. ' Nay, by 
 the heart of Our Lady. 'Tis William's mad pride that 
 is to blame, and that alone. Speak no slander against 
 my wife, or it will go ill with thee, for I will not brook 
 to hear it.' 
 
 Emma drooped her head against his shoulder, smiling 
 through her tears. ' Oh, Ralph,' she said, ' if thou wert 
 but going in a good cause, the parting would not be so 
 bitter.' 
 
 Ralph, having no good argument to proffer in reply, 
 lost his temper. He sprang up and paced the room, 
 making his golden spurs jingle at each impatient 
 stride. 
 
 ' I thought when I wedded a Fitzosbern I should 
 escape the lot of most men, to be wept and wailed 
 over at every crinkle in the rose-leaves of fate. But 
 it seems thou art but of the same stuff as other women, 
 after all.' 
 
 Emma flushed over neck and brow. She drew herself
 
 THE CASTELLAN OF BLAUNCHEFLOUR. 145 
 
 proudly erect, and hastily wiped away the tears that 
 were rolling down her cheeks. 
 
 ' Naught but dread of guilt and a too fond love 
 could have drawn tears from a P'itzosbern,' she answered 
 haughtily. ' Thou shalt not need to complain again, 
 my lord.' 
 
 ' Nay, my sweet lady, pardon me,' pleaded the earl, 
 turning to her with entreating eyes. ' In good sooth, I 
 am well-nigh distracted, and the sight of thy tears 
 makes me too bitterly conscious of my own lack of 
 worth. But what wouldst thou have me do? If it were 
 but a question of my own poor life, I would submit, and 
 let William do his worst, if such a course would pleasure 
 thee ; but I cannot desert thy brother, nor my own poor 
 Bretons, and the Saxons who have thrown in their lot 
 with mine. Thou knowest William is not gentle with 
 such as cross his will. It would mean loss of lands and 
 lifelong imprisonment to thy brother and myself, and 
 the lopping off a hand and a foot for each of my l^retons, 
 at the least, while hanging would be too mild a measure 
 in his eyes for the Saxons.' 
 
 Emma's hands were tightly clenched together. The 
 momentary flush had faded from her face, and it was 
 pale as death, but she neither sobbed nor flinched. 
 
 ' I have made my choice, and I will abide by it,' she 
 said in a low, firm voice. 'Nor will I quail before the 
 consequences of our deed. We have chosen each other 
 against the whole world. Perhaps if thou hadst trusted 
 me more fully, thou hadst not been vexed with tears. 
 Thy announcenicnt was somewliat sudden.'
 
 146 THE CASTELLAN OF BLAUNCHEFLOUR. 
 
 * Let that ill-grained speech rest in its grave, dear 
 love. Thou hast spoken like a Fitzosbern now,' said 
 the earl, taking her hands again in his and drawing 
 her back to his shoulder. ' I want thee to be of good 
 courage, for I have treated thee as a hero's daughter, 
 and appointed thee Castellan of Blauncheflour in my 
 absence. I have vested in thee the supreme and sole 
 command. Thine it shall be, in case of siege while I 
 am away, — which God forfend, — to surrender or defend 
 the castle on whatsoever terms may seem good to thee. 
 Sir Alain de Gourin and Sir Hoel de St. Brice will act 
 under thine orders and be thine advisers. Wilt thou 
 take the office ? ' 
 
 'Yes, I will take it,' answered Emma, without a 
 moment's hesitation, although her whole soul trembled 
 within her at the prospect of being left in her young 
 feebleness to command the turbulent De Gourin, for 
 whom she had a strong aversion, and the veteran Sir 
 Hoel, who was a total stranger to her, albeit he had 
 been so long in her husband's train. 
 
 'Thou art indeed a fit bride for a warrior,' cried 
 Ralph, gazing with admiration at her determined 
 face. 
 
 Emma longed to throw her arms around his neck and 
 sob, but conquered the impulse, answering only with a 
 smile. 
 
 ' Thou saidest I was sudden, sweet,' resumed Ralph. 
 ' Methinks an agony that must be sharp had best be 
 short. To that end I would not poison for thee the 
 brief time we had together with the shadow of parting.
 
 THE CA S TELL A N OF BLA UNCHEFL OUR. 147 
 
 That is why I told thee naught till now, upon the eve 
 of my going forth.' 
 
 Emma could not repress a slight start. 
 
 * Dost go so soon ? To-morrow ? ' she said. 
 
 'To-morrow thou wilt enter on thy new office,' an- 
 swered the earl gaily, kissing her forehead. And then 
 he slipped from the apartment, congratulating himself 
 that the mischief was out, and full of admiration for his 
 bride, in that she had borne the tidings so bravely. 
 
 Emma listened to his footfall as he strode down the 
 long corridor till its echo was lost in the distance. 
 Then the emotion she had violently repressed had its 
 way. 
 
 She stretched out her arms after him as if to call him 
 back, and threw herself on her knees near the door. 
 
 ' Oh, Ralph ! ' she sobbed, — ' oh, Ralph, my husband ! 
 Saints and angels protect thee ! Guard him, St. 
 Nicholas, thou under whose patronage he has placed 
 himself I vow seven candlesticks of pure gold to thine 
 altar in Blauncheflour.' 
 
 Her voice died away, a strange sensation of numb 
 oppression succeeded her violent anguish, and she sank 
 in a dead faint by the door her husband had just passed 
 through.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 
 
 The day which was to part Emma de Guader from 
 her bridegroom dawned clear and bright, and the summer 
 sunshine sparkled upon the broad reaches of the Yare, 
 and gleamed amidst the pale green rushes and brown 
 osier beds of the Cowholme, shining with impartial 
 equality, not only upon the just and the unjust, but upon 
 the joyous and the sad. 
 
 In nooks and corners amongst the reeds and water 
 weeds, the coots and water-hens were tending their 
 nestlings. 
 
 On the site of the busy railway station, the tall 
 heron poised gracefully on one leg, as his descendants 
 do to this day, some ten or fifteen miles nearer the 
 sea. 
 
 The yellow water-lilies were pushing their golden 
 buds to the surface, and the reeds were growing dusky 
 at the top, while the hot sunshine brought out the 
 fragrance of the sweet-gale, or bog-myrtle, which covered 
 many an acre, now built over, with its dark green 
 bushes. 
 
 Westward the broad woodlands were in the young 
 
 148
 
 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 149 
 
 beauty of their .summer dress, wearing still somewhat of 
 the rich variety of spring. Mountainous white clouds 
 cast purple shadows over the sea of their close-packed 
 crowns, in the shelter of which sang merles and mavises, 
 and the fitful nightingale ; while above marsh and 
 woodland many a hawk and bustard hung poised on 
 motionless wings, for in those days the gamekeepers 
 had no quarrel with them. 
 
 The sentinels on the keep of Blauncheflour had a fair 
 panorama to look upon as they marched to and fro upon 
 the walls ; but they did not pay much heed to the 
 beauties of nature, they were far too much engrossed in 
 the doings in the courtyard of the castle below, and 
 their eyes only left the knights who were gathered there, 
 for an occasional glance at the armed host assembled 
 within the circle of the barbican. 
 
 Truly the cluster of gallant warriors before the grand 
 portal of the castle, glittering from head to foot with 
 shining steel, lavishly ornamented with gold and silver, 
 were a goodly sight to sec ; though perhaps Roger 
 Bigod may have gathered a still gayer company round 
 him a century later, when gaudy plumes and surcoats 
 embroidered with the coats of arms of the wearers were 
 the fashion of the day. In William the Conqueror's 
 time, military finery had trenched little on the strictly 
 useful, and the richness of these cavaliers consisted more 
 in fine inlay of precious metals than in feathers and 
 embroidery, or fantastic helms or armour. Their heads 
 were covered with small conical steel -caps, having a 
 nasal to protect them from a transverse cut across the
 
 ISO THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 
 
 face, or were encased in huge cylinders of steel, having 
 narrow apertures for the necessities of sight and breath- 
 ing ; their long hauberks were of linked mail, or leather 
 sewn all over with little rings of steel ; their straight 
 cross-hilted swords measured three and a half to four 
 feet in length, and were encased in richly-chased and 
 jewelled scabbards, and suspended from baldrics ablaze 
 with gold and gems. Each wore in his belt the 
 miscricorde, and at the saddle-bows of some hung the 
 battle-axe or mace. Their oval or heart-shaped shields 
 were from four to five feet long, richly embossed, and 
 often bearing a raised spike in the centre. Their long 
 lances were adorned with square or swallow - tailed 
 pennons, according to their rank, for, when a knight 
 obtained the rank of banneret, or leader of a troop, the 
 points were shorn off his pennon. Their saddles and 
 horse furniture were studded with steel bosses, and often 
 the reins were steel chains plentifully enriched with 
 gold, and the heavy steeds they bestrode had need of 
 all their sturdy strength to carry their burdens of man 
 and metal at a gallop, even at the prompting of golden 
 spurs. 
 
 Before the portal stood De Guader's magnificent barb 
 Oliver, champing his bit, and with difficulty restrained 
 by the squire who held his bridle-rein, the white foam 
 flying from his heavy curb upon his gilded trappings, 
 and his fox-coloured mane tossing in the breeze. 
 
 A iQ.\N words of the great portal itself, before which 
 this brave company was assembled. The vestibule on 
 the eastern side of the keep, now known as Bigod's Tower,
 
 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 151 
 
 was not built, but the very beautiful early Norman arch- 
 way was certainly a part of the original structure, and 
 opened upon a raised platform of stone, from which 
 sprang a drawbridge connecting it with a flight of 
 twenty-eight steps, ended by a gate to the south. 
 
 Beneath this drawbridge was the sally-port, a narrow 
 postern strongly fortified, which in case of siege could, 
 by raising the drawbridge of the main doorway, be made 
 the only entrance to the kcep.^ 
 
 At a signal from a sentinel who stood upon this plat- 
 form, the trumpeters executed a X\\ (Ay fanfare on their 
 instruments. A moment later the portal was thrown 
 open, and the earl came forth, clad in complete armour, 
 and leading the young countess, who was very gallant!}' 
 apparelled in crimson cloth, broidered over with jewels 
 and silver ; she wore a small gorget of blue Milan steel, 
 and had on her head a little cap of the same, damascened 
 with gold ; round her waist a jewelled belt, from which 
 were suspended a little viiscricorde and a short steel 
 chain. 
 
 Behind the earl and countess followed Sir Hoel de St. 
 Brice and Sir Alain de Gourin, both in full harness, 
 attended by several squires and pages. As they came 
 upon the platform, the greater part of the garrison — all 
 that were not actually on duty as sentries, warders, and 
 like offices — ^filed into the courtyard, and took up their 
 places behind the group of knights. 
 
 ^ Some idea of tlic arrangement here described is given by the figure of 
 the ruins of Iledingham Castle in Slrntt : Manners and Customs 0/ llie 
 English, vol. i. plate xxix.
 
 152 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 
 
 ' A Guader ! a Guader ! ' shouted knights and soldiers. 
 ' Long live the earl and countess ! ' 
 
 The noble couple bowed courteously, and the earl, 
 who held in his hands the keys of the castle, turned to 
 his consort, and then cast a proud glance along the 
 ranks of his retainers. 
 
 ' Knights and soldiers,' he said, in clear trumpet tones 
 which could be heard even by the sentinels on the 
 battlements, 'before I go forth to battle, it is meet that I 
 should appoint a Castellan to have charge of my castle 
 of Blauncheflour, and this I do now before ye all 
 assembled, in the person of my dear lady and countess, 
 Emma, daughter of the valiant William Fitzosbern. I 
 appoint her to the sole and supreme command, and to 
 have as deputies under her, and as military advisers, — 
 but under her pleasure, and to be dismissed if she think 
 fit, — Sir Hoel de St. Brice and Sir Alain de Gourin. 
 Knights and gentlemen, you who are about to go forth 
 to battle with me, and to share my dangers, and, I hope, 
 my successes, I make you witnesses of the fact of this 
 appointment, so that if I fall in the chances of the field, 
 you may hurry to my lady's standard and reinforce it 
 with your strength. Knights and soldiers of the garrison, 
 I charge ye to serve your Castellan and liege lady with 
 faithfulness and fervour ; to render her humble obedi- 
 ence, and to defend her as ye would defend your own 
 lady-loves, wives, and children. I commit her and my 
 castle, and with them my joy and my honour, to your 
 care. Justify my trust ! ' 
 
 As he spoke he handed the keys of the castle to
 
 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 153 
 
 Emma, who took them with trembling fingers and 
 attached them to her girdle, looking at the ranks of steel- 
 clad men around her with a brave though blanched face. 
 
 A great roar of cheering rolled round the spacious 
 courtyard, such as Emma had never heard in her life 
 before, though she was to hear its like in the coming 
 months. Asseverations and vows and battle - cries 
 mingled in wild confusion, shouted from stentorian 
 lungs in more than one language. ' Dex aie ! ' cried the 
 Normans ; and the Bretons cried ' Guader et IMontfort ! ' 
 ' Aoie ! ' ' Heysaa ! ' and ' The Holy Rood ! ' from 
 English of varying types ; while the knights shook their 
 lances, and cried to God to shield their lady in their 
 absence. Arms clashed, and horses stamped, and it 
 seemed as if all the dogs in Norwich were barking. 
 
 When the tumult had somewhat subsided, and the 
 startled pigeons were circling back to their favourite 
 perches on the battlements, Emma, with a beating heart, 
 made her little speech in answer. Turning first to the 
 garrison, she said, — 
 
 ' I thank ye all for your devotion, good sirs and 
 soldiers!' and her clear, flute-like voice was to the full 
 as distinct as that of the carl. ' Nor do I doubt that ye 
 will do your duty to God, to your earl, and to mc, his 
 deputy, in whatsoever sore straits ma)- befall. 'I'o nou, 
 noble knights,' she continueil, turning to the Ljroup who 
 were about to depart with the carl, ' I return thanks for 
 your courtesy, and beg you to bear in mind that my 
 lord's fortunes and fair fame, nay, even his life, do in 
 some measure depend upon the sharpness of )-our
 
 154 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 
 
 swords, and your promptness to use them in his behalf, 
 and therefore every blow ye strike will be struck in my 
 defence, for, in sooth, I should die if ill or dishonour 
 came to him ! ' 
 
 The cheers of the garrison and the vows of the 
 knights to do their devoir by their lord burst forth more 
 tumultuously than before ; but the countess, turning to 
 her husband, said in a low voice, — 
 
 ' I can bear no more, Ralph. Farewell ! May Our 
 Lady and St. Nicholas guard thee and bring thee shortly 
 home ! ' 
 
 She held out her hands to him appealingly, and he, 
 pressing them, bent forward hastily and kissed her on 
 the forehead. 
 
 ^ A Dieii, dear lady ! ' he said, with a voice less steady 
 than her own. ' Forget not to name me in thine 
 orisons ! ' 
 
 He stepped forward and mounted his impatient 
 destrier, which, excited almost to madness by the cheer- 
 ing of men and the clash of arms, pranced and curveted 
 proudly as he felt his master's hand. The trumpets 
 blared, the portcullis creaked upon its hinges, and the 
 drawbridge clanked upon its chains. 
 
 The gay cavalcade set forth on their adventures, none 
 knowing how, or when, or if ever, they should return. 
 The armed heels of the steeds clattered upon the pave- 
 ment and thundered over the drawbridge, and lusty 
 cheers rent the air before and behind them, from the 
 waiting host upon the plain, and from the garrison in 
 the courtyard of the castle.
 
 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT, 155 
 
 Emma, with a heavy heart, ascended the circular 
 staircase in the north-eastern angle of the keep, her 
 ladies following, and went round to the southern side of 
 the battlements, whence they commanded a view of the 
 country for many miles around, and could see the earl's 
 army in glittering array upon the space within the 
 barbican, and also the road by which they would march 
 away, that same broad Ikenicld way by which the young 
 countess had entered the town such a short time before, 
 happy in her bridegroom's society. 
 
 The troops assembled in order of march. A cloud of 
 archers and slingers in the van, chiefly Bretons ; after 
 them the bills and battle-axes, and the Anglo-Saxon 
 contingent with their round red shields and great two- 
 edged seaxes — the weapon from which they got their 
 name of Saxons, though it was modified from the 
 ancient scythe-shaped blade to a straight, double-edged 
 sword ; next in order, the javelins and pikcmen, and 
 men of various arms, many only wielding stout clubs of 
 oak and ash, or carrying long staves. Then, glittering 
 and shining, the body of knights headed by the earl. 
 Near him rode Sir Guy de Landerneau, the richest and 
 most powerful of De Guader's Breton vassals, to whom 
 was accorded the honoin' of bearing the gold and black 
 standard of the earl — the standard of revolt. 
 
 Next after Sir Guy rode his body -squire, young 
 Stephen le Hareau, the handsomest and most promising 
 of all the aspirants for knighthood who rode in Ralph de 
 Guader's train, the darling of the ladies' bower, after 
 whom more than one fair face looked wistfully as he
 
 I s6 THE S TA NBA RD OF RE VOL T. 
 
 went away, full of high hopes and visions of glory, bent 
 on ' winning his spurs,' and wearing till he had done so, 
 as the custom was, a golden chain around his right arm. 
 Laughing and fearless as he rode away, with the blue 
 summer sky reflected in his blue Norseman's eyes, little 
 did they who watched him dream in what plight they 
 would see him return. After them followed pages 
 leading Jiacqiienks which their masters might ride when 
 the weight of their armour had fatigued them and their 
 fiery war-steeds. Next the baggage on sumpter mules, 
 and a second body of archers and slingers to protect 
 the rear. 
 
 So they rode away on the bright summer morning, 
 and Emma and her ladies watched their slow progress 
 from the battlements till the last glimmer of the glitter- 
 ing armour was lost in the distance, her eyes following 
 them by wood and mere, now hidden by thickets, now- 
 crossing the open moorland covered with golden gorse, 
 now startling a solitary heron from his post amongst the 
 marshes, now a skein of wild fowl from some shining 
 pool. 
 
 Eadgyth watched beside the countess with eager eyes, 
 and a great hope in her bosom that her countrymen 
 might yet come by their own again. A delusive hope, 
 and one she would scarcely have held if she had known 
 more of the facts of the case. The English hated their 
 conqueror, and found his yoke oppressive. If Eadgar 
 yEtheling had been man enough to stand against 
 William, and lead them in revolt, they might have 
 struggled to overturn the Norman ; — even Waltheof
 
 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 157 
 
 they might have welcomed as a national chieftain ; — but 
 they saw too clearly that Ralph de Guader and Roger 
 of Hereford were bent only on their own advancement, 
 to rally in numbers to their banners. Small gain would 
 it be to them to pull William from the throne only to 
 place one of his turbulent barons in his stead. 
 
 But the patriotic talk which the Earl of East Anglia 
 had affected, with the hope of gaining Saxon aid, had 
 been as honey to the listening ears of Eadgyth, and had 
 helped her to bear the trial of seeing strangers in the 
 palace which had been Harold's aforetime. She had 
 almost forgiven Ralph his part at Senlac, and was 
 building the most noble castles in the air as she watched 
 the rebel army marching away. 
 
 But the young countess, torn with doubts, in bitter 
 anguish for both husband and brother, watched with 
 clasped hands and a set, pale face, and spoke not a word ; 
 but at last, when even her anxious gaze could no longer 
 discern a vestige of the moving force, she turned to 
 Eadgyth. 
 
 'Let us to our bower amid stone walls, sweet,' she 
 said. ' I had hoped to have done with such \\hen I left 
 the stormy borders of Wales, and came hither to peace- 
 ful Norfolk. At least, I had thought that their shelter 
 would be needed only for protection against the wild 
 Danish Vikings, not to guard me from my own folks.' 
 
 She sighed deeply, and Eadgyth scarce could think of 
 consolation. Like mo.st other people in all days and all 
 places, it seemed to them that their times were sadly out 
 of joint.
 
 158 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 
 
 So they descended from their post of observation, and, 
 crossing the courtyard, entered the Constable's Lodge, 
 which was to be their home till the war-engines of the 
 royal forces compelled them to shelter behind the solid 
 walls of the keep. 
 
 The bovver De Guader had prepared for his bride was 
 as magnificent and comfortable as the resources of the 
 times permitted ; and here Dame Amicia de Reviers sat 
 awaiting them, her infirmities having prevented her 
 from climbing the steep newel staircase of the great 
 tower. 
 
 The pretty bower-maidens clustered round the vener- 
 able old lady, and chattered to her gaily of all that had 
 taken place, vying with each other in recalling all the 
 details of the stirring sight the}^ had just witnessed, and 
 in conveying them to her dull ears. 
 
 But Dame Amicia felt keenly that what was but a 
 pleasant excitement to most of them must have been 
 acute anguish to her darling. 
 
 ' Where is your lady, children ? ' asked she ; but only 
 Eadgyth had noticed that before they left the great 
 tower, the countess had slipped quietly away from them. 
 
 She had gone to the oratory, that little oratory which 
 is still shown to those who visit the remains of Norwich 
 Castle. 
 
 The archway by which she had entered was supported 
 by two columns with ornamental capitals. At the angle 
 wxre carved pelicans, in their piety vulning their breasts. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' thought Emma as she passed them, ' if I could 
 strip my own breast, and so make soft the beds of those
 
 THE STANDARD OF REVOLT. 159 
 
 I love ! Brother and husband ! Ah me, what sufferings 
 may await them ! The warrior's lonely death on the 
 cold, pitiless earth, or worse, that of the prisoner on the 
 colder flags of the dungeon of their foe ! William is 
 without mercy. St. Nicholas, make my Ralph prevail !' 
 She shook from head to foot with a shudder of dread, 
 as she threw herself upon her knees before the altar ; 
 but the tears she had so long repressed would not now 
 come to her relief Dry-eyed, with a dull, persistent 
 pain at her heart that made each breath a sigh, she 
 stretched up her arms in mute supplication to the Help 
 of the helpless for aid.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER ! 
 
 The original plan of campaign drawn out by the Earls 
 of East Anglia and Hereford had been sadly marred 
 by the defection of Waltheof, whose counties of Hun- 
 tingdon and Northampton lay between them, so that, 
 instead of being a bond of union, they had now become 
 adverse territory. 
 
 With Waltheof assisting them, only Worcestershire 
 and Warwickshire would have divided them, but since he 
 had left them in the lurch, they must needs fight half 
 across England to effect a junction. They had this 
 comfort, however, that Waltheof had left the country 
 in order to make his peace with the king, and would 
 not personally encounter them, while their positions at 
 the extremes of east and west exposed any force 
 attacking either of them to be itself attacked in the 
 rear by the other. Further, the unsettled state of the 
 Welsh border, and the readiness of the Celts to seize 
 any excuse for invasion, rendered Hereford's movement 
 doubly formidable for the king's lieutenants. 
 
 De Guader hoped that, for this reason, the main force 
 of the opponents might be turned towards Hereford, 
 
 IGO
 
 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER ! i6i 
 
 and that he might be upon them before they were 
 aware that he had taken the field. The hope proved 
 delusive. 
 
 When he reached his manors at Swafifham, of which 
 place he was lord, he found that the royal army was 
 almost upon him, and that he must give battle there 
 and then. 
 
 Ralph had need to put forth his best powers of 
 generalship, for the force against him was led by four 
 of William's most brilliant officers : — 
 
 Earl William de Warrenne and Surrey, the husband 
 of the king's stepdaughter Gundred, to whom had been 
 given twenty-eight manors in Yorkshire, and one 
 hundred and thirty-nine lordships in Norfolk, and who 
 was building a fine castle at Acre near Swaffham, so 
 that he was Ralph's neighbour, and probably no ver\- 
 cordial one. The Norman earl had won experience of 
 Fenland fighting in the campaign against Hereward a 
 few seasons previously, and had never forgiven the 
 English for killing his brother, who was leading the 
 king's men through the terrible quagmires of the Isle of 
 Ely ; so he ground his teeth and swore strange oaths, 
 as was the way of the Normans, that now the time for 
 retribution had come. 
 
 Next there was Robert Malet, son of the brave old 
 Sir William, who had helped to bear the corse of 
 Harold Godwinsson to its first burial, and who took 
 with him to his own grave the love and respect of 
 Normans and English alike, leaving his son an in- 
 heritance of lands in Norfolk and Suffolk. 
 
 L
 
 1 62 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER ! 
 
 Besides were two warlike bishops : Odo of Bayeux, 
 the king's half-brother, and Geofifrey of Coutances, 
 warriors whose prestige was itself equal to a large body 
 of troops. 
 
 After the death of Robert the Devil, Arlete of 
 Falaise, the mother of William the Conqueror, married 
 a knight named Herluin de Conteville, and bore him 
 two sons, Robert, Count of Mortain, and Odo, Bishop 
 of Bayeux. 
 
 Odo had a large share of the military genius of his 
 great half-brother ; nevertheless the chronicles say: ' He 
 was no instigator to war, nor could he be drawn thereto, 
 and therefore much feared by the soldiers. But upon 
 great necessity, his counsels in military affairs were of 
 special avail, so far as might consist with the safety of 
 religion. To the king, whose brother he was by the 
 mother, his affections were so great that he could not 
 be severed from him, no, not in the camp.' He equipped 
 one hundred ships of war as his contribution to the 
 invasion of England, and fought in person at Hastings, 
 for which he was rewarded by the earldom of Kent, one 
 hundred and eighty-four lordships in that county, and 
 two hundred and fifty in other parts of England, 
 including Rising, in Norfolk, where he built a fine 
 castle. 
 
 Affluence did not improve his character. He grew 
 rapacious and greedy, and degraded his sacred office by 
 flagrant immoralities. 
 
 The followers of these four redoubtable leaders far 
 out-numbered De Guader's, and were better drilled and
 
 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER ! 163 
 
 equipped ; moreover, the defection of Waltheof had 
 caused many of the Saxon and Anglo- Danish nobles to 
 join the Norman camp, seeing a good opportunity to 
 curry favour with the Conqueror. 
 
 Ralph's naturally dauntless spirit was, however, strung 
 by the impossibility of turning back, and he formed 
 his troops in the strongest position he could, taking 
 advantage of the great Saxon fosse and rampart 
 known as the Devil's Dyke, which runs from Eastmore 
 to Narborough, lining the steep vallum with his archers 
 and slingers and javelin men, and massing his cavalry 
 on the firm open ground of Beachamwell Heath, with 
 the hope of forcing his foe into the morasses that 
 lay around Foulden ; for in those days the Bedford 
 level was undrained, and there were no old and new 
 Bedford rivers to gather the waters, no Denver sluice 
 to carry them off; the sweltering fens stretched far 
 and wide, and miles and miles of land that is now 
 fertile pasturage was haunted only by wildfowl and 
 fishes. 
 
 Before commencing the attack, the leaders on the 
 king's side sent forward a knight with a herald carrying 
 the royal standard, and accompanied by trumpets to 
 sound a parley. This being acceded to by De Guader, 
 and a knight bearing his standard sent forth to meet 
 them, the royal envoy, who was no less a person than 
 the Bishop of Bayeux himself, rode forward, and 
 delivered his charge in so loud and clear a voice, that 
 it was audible to the cluster of knights who gathered 
 round De Guader, before the herald officially repeated it.
 
 1 64 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER ! 
 
 Ralph was not ill-pleased to see the Bishop of Baj-eux 
 come forward, for the cruelties he had perpetrated while 
 sharing the vice-regency of England with William 
 Fitzosbern had won him the hatred of the Saxons, and 
 the Normans regarded him with jealousy and distrust ; 
 so that of all William's leaders he was least likely to 
 win Ralph's followers to his side by personal influ- 
 ence. 
 
 Yet the warlike bishop was well fitted to grace the 
 saddle of a knight. Tall, robust, and handsome, in the 
 prime of youthful manhood, he looked indeed a noble 
 cavalier, and any who saw him might well deem that 
 the feats by which he had made himself famous at 
 Hastings might be eclipsed by his prowess on the field 
 before him. 
 
 His eyes sparkled with the excitement of the coming 
 struggle, and his upright and muscular form was armed 
 cap-a-pie in all the trappings of knightly harness. Only 
 in one particular did his equipment differ from that of 
 the warriors around him. He bore neither lance nor 
 sword, but only, hanging from his saddle-bow, a huge 
 mace with iron spikes, a weapon more deadly than 
 either, be it said, though less like to spill blood ; by this 
 subterfuge professing to obey the law of the Church 
 which forbade his order to shed blood. 
 
 He now came as a messenger of peace — on conditions. 
 But what conditions ! 
 
 'Noble barons and knights,' he shouted, 'here 
 present in contumacious assembly ! In the name of 
 our king-lord, William of Normandy, supreme sovereign
 
 S r. NIC HO LA S FOR G UA DER / 165 
 
 of these realms, by the will of the sainted Eadward the 
 Confessor, and the election of the Witanagemot ' — (' No ! ' 
 thundered some of the Anglo-Saxons who followed 
 Ralph de Guader) — ' By the will of the sainted Eadward 
 the Confessor, and the election of the Witanagemot 1 ' 
 repeated the bishop in still louder tones, 'we, his repre- 
 sentatives, do here demand of you that ye deliver u}) 
 the body of the vile and audacious traitor, Ralph dc 
 Guader, sometime Earl of Norfolk and Suffolk, but 
 now under attainder for high treason ; and the persons 
 of his Breton followers, here arranged in blank rebellion 
 against their liege lord and sovereign, William the 
 Norman, upon which deliverance and your immediate 
 return to allegiance, your past misdeeds will receive free 
 pardon, be ye Norman or Saxon.' 
 
 Ralph de Guader's dark visage was convulsed \\ith 
 passion when he heard himself and his countrymen thus 
 singled out and excepted from all hope of pardon ; and 
 he vowed within his throat that if his Norman and 
 Saxon vassals and allies accepted the terms, himself 
 and his bold Bretons would forthwith turn upon them, 
 and so entreat them that few should live to profit by 
 their delincjuency. 
 
 But the doubt was short-lived. Ralph was a brave 
 leader and a generous master, and, moreover, well 
 skilled in raising the ambitions of such as had embarked 
 in his boat. A shout of derision hailed the bishop's 
 harangue before the herald had time to repeat it 
 formally, rising first from a dozen or so of lusty throats 
 in Ralph's near neighbourhood, and spreading afterwards
 
 1 66 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER ! 
 
 through the whole host. Ralph himself flung back the 
 answer. 
 
 * Tell your base-born usurper,' he shouted, ' that the 
 Normans have tired of his ingratitude, and deem his 
 offers of pardon as little like to be fulfilled, as the fair 
 promises of lands and honours he made them before 
 Hastings. Tell him that the Saxons have yet to avenge 
 Harold Godwinsson, and win back their broad acres, 
 and that the Bretons are not yet within the power of 
 the murderer of Count Alain and Count Conan.' 
 
 ' It is well ! ' replied the bishop, who, notwithstanding 
 the elasticity of his ecclesiastical conscience, preferred 
 honest fighting to the chopping off the hands, ears, 
 and noses of prisoners which must needs have followed 
 the acceptance of his terms. ' After such a message, 
 we need have no compunction in striking the first 
 blow.' 
 
 The day was overcast, and heavy masses of grey 
 cloud were scudding up from the south-west, shedding 
 blinding gushes of rain at intervals, and a gusty, 
 whistling wind swept the open heath. As Bishop Odo 
 withdrew to the ranks of the king's men, a wilder 
 whistle shrilled through the air, and sharp cries of pain 
 startled the larks and the whin-chats from their nests 
 among the gorse. 
 
 The battle had commenced with an almost simul- 
 taneous flight of arrows on each side. For a long time 
 De Guader acted stubbornly on the defensive. His 
 only chance was to keep the king's forces at bay along 
 the Devil's Dyke. But the line to be guarded was very
 
 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER ! 167 
 
 long, and the number of the foe enabled them to attack- 
 many points at once. 
 
 He stood with his standard and his cavalry on the 
 high ground towards Beachamwell, where alone they 
 had any chance to manoeuvre; but down in the fens 
 towards Fouldon the fierce clashing of axe on spear, the 
 clang of swords on buckler and mail, the whiz of arrows 
 and the sharp twanging of bows mingled strangely with 
 the shrill screaming of frightened waterfowl ; and the 
 wild shouts of the combatants frightened many a skein 
 of mallards and plovers in their reedy haunts, from 
 which they rose on whirring wings, with clamorous 
 shrieks of fear. 
 
 Alike on the heath and in the fen, Normans were 
 striving with Normans, and Saxons with Saxons, while 
 the Bretons fought with the courage of desperation, 
 well knowing that not only ruin, but the most terrible 
 tortures and mutilation awaited their defeat. 
 
 Time after time the assailants strove to throw bridges 
 across the dyke, and more than once succeeded in 
 fixing their grappling-irons upon the rampart. 
 
 Time after time they were beaten back, leaving so 
 many dead and dying behind them that the bodies of 
 their friends might almost have served for a bridge. 
 
 But numbers prevailed at lengih. There came an 
 hour when De Guader's archers and slingers, thinned b)- 
 the continuous iron hail of arrows and quarrels to which 
 they had been unceasingly exposed, no longer sufficed 
 to guard the extended line of the rampart. While they 
 were defending one hotl)'-contestcd point, the cncm)-
 
 i68 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER I 
 
 forced another, and before they were well aware of 
 their misfortune, a large body of knights had gained the 
 eastern side of the dyke. 
 
 De Guader instantly formed his cavalry and led 
 them to the charge, with the cry of ' St. Nicholas for 
 Guader ! ' and the ground shook beneath the thundering 
 feet of the destriers. 
 
 ' Dex Aie et Notre Dame!' shouted the warlike 
 bishop, who led the foe, and the mailed hosts closed 
 with a crash that was heard by the warders on the walls 
 of the new castle that William de Warrenne was 
 building at Castle Acre. 
 
 But when De Guader and his followers had hewn 
 their way through the thick squadron that met them, a 
 fresh body stood ready for them, and further hosts were 
 pouring across the dyke. 
 
 The odds were so overwhelming, that the East 
 Anglian earl was forced to fall back ; an awful retreat, 
 for his troops were harassed in the rear by the remnant 
 of the band they had just charged. 
 
 The royalist knights pressed after them, driving them 
 back and back off the firm heath towards the morasses 
 near Fouldon ; many a gallant horseman floundering 
 into the quagmires and stifling in the black ooze. 
 Carnage grew fierce round the East Anglian banner, 
 and anxious eyes followed the waving gold and black 
 plumes upon De Guader's helm, for many felt that to 
 lose their leader would be to lose the day. In those 
 times individual prowess often turned the fortune of a 
 field. It was the era of single combats, and a thrill
 
 ST. NICHOLAS FOR CUADER .' 169 
 
 passed through all the host, when, after long seeking, 
 Ralph and Odo met at length. It was as if the whole 
 field paused to watch. 
 
 They had fought side by side at Hastings, these 
 two splendid warriors, to Ralph's shame be it spoken ! 
 They had sat side by side at many a festive board, 
 and had tried their strength and dexterity in the 
 friendly struggle of the tourney. Now they met as 
 mortal foes, hurling insult at each other. 
 
 'Pitiful renegade, twice told a traitor!' cried Odo, 
 'how darest thou draw good steel to defend thine 
 unknightly carcase ? ' 
 
 ' Nay ! My sword has better cause than ever hath 
 thy mace, unsanctified shaveling ! ' retorted Ralph 
 ' the cause of a fell-monger's grandson ! ' 
 
 The taunt struck home, since it included Odo with 
 William. 
 
 Striking the rowels into their horses, they flew at each 
 other like tigers. 
 
 The head of Ralph's lance had been chopped off a 
 {q.\\ moments before b)' a blow from a Saxon seax, so 
 he had but his sword to oppose to the bishop's awful 
 mace. 
 
 A gleam of steel, and a dull, horrible crash ! A wild 
 yell o{ execration and triumph from a hundred throats ! 
 For both the champions were down, I'lach party closed 
 up to protect its leader, and a fearful conflict began 
 around the fallen heroes. 
 
 But though Odo was down, GeolTre}- of Coutanccs, 
 W^illiam do Warrennc, and Robeit Malet were ready to
 
 I70 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER .' 
 
 take his place, and shrewd blows were given and taken 
 in the neighbourhood of each of these redoubtable 
 champions, while, although the East Anglian earl had 
 many brave knights in his following, the insurgents 
 were virtually without a leader. 
 
 Ralph's fall decided the fate of the day, if it had ever 
 been doubtful. The flight of his army was only delayed 
 by the frantic valour of the Bretons, who were bent on 
 selling their lives as dearly as possible. 
 
 The tide of battle rolled eastwards, gradually de- 
 generating into a pursuit and butchery, and the original 
 site of the struggle was left to the dead and the dying. 
 
 The wind had risen, shaking the white tassels of the 
 cotton-grass which covered acres of the marshes, and 
 bending the aspens till the white undersides of their 
 leaves alone were visible, as if it were preparing white 
 shrouds for the dead. As the clouds parted, the red sun 
 shone forth between their scudding masses, flushing 
 them to vivid crimson, and shedding a lurid light upon 
 the ensanguined field of fight, glittering redly on the 
 harness of the fallen, and painting the pale faces of the 
 dying with a hue as bright as the life-blood that welled 
 from their wounds. But no wind could shake yonder 
 tuft of reeds as it is shaken ! Behold a motley figure 
 comes cautiously forth and advances along the field, 
 peering curiously into the faces of the fallen as it comes. 
 
 It is Grillonne, the Earl of East Anglia's jester. 
 Grim jests he must make if he would suit his wit to his 
 surroundings ! 
 
 And grim jests he docs make ; for often, when, after
 
 Dislioj) Odo nieets De Guader,
 
 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER .' 171 
 
 considerable toil, he has gained sight of the face of a 
 dead or wounded man, half buried under fallen friends 
 and foes, he expresses his disgust and abhorrence at 
 recognising one of William of Normandy's supporters, 
 by pulling his nose or moustachios ; — not very violentl}-, 
 it is true, and usually following up the indignity by 
 placing the victim's head in as comfortable a position as 
 the circumstances allowed. 
 
 But at last he found a face which he treated otherw ise. 
 
 * Ah, my dear lord ! ' he cried, placing his hands 
 tenderly under the senseless head ; he could do no 
 more, for a heap of slain and the hoof of a dead charger 
 were piled above the earl. 
 
 'Oh, sweet nuncle, open thine eyes, thy dear eyes, 
 and glad the heart of thy poor faithful fool. God 
 forbid ! Thou canst not be dead ! For thy lady's sake 
 thou canst not be dead ! ' He took from his breast a 
 small flask containing a strong cordial, and poured a 
 portion of its contents down the carl's throat, tenderly 
 wiping away the blood which oozed from a contused 
 wound in his forehead ; and after a time Ralph's eyes 
 opened languidly, — opened and closed again almost 
 instantly. 
 
 'Good lad! Good lad!' exclaimed the old jester 
 cheerfully. 'There is life in thee }-ct, I well sec, 
 and we will have thee all safe and sound yet, Holy 
 Mary be praised ! But I cannot do the job single- 
 handed, valiant hero as I am, and I like not to leave 
 thee, lest thine enemies return. Hist! I have a 
 notion ! '
 
 172 ST. NICHOLAS FOR GUADER .' 
 
 He took off his little parti-coloured cape, and got it 
 upon the earl's shoulders ; and he drew from his pocket 
 his jester's cap, which he had thrust therein to still the 
 noise of the bells, and decorated therewith the earl's 
 stately head ; and he took the earl's battered helm, 
 which had rolled off, and lay near by, with its gold and 
 black plumes mightily draggled, and fastened it upon 
 the head of a dead Breton knight. Sir Guy de Landerneau, 
 who had fallen at a little distance from his leader, and 
 not long afterwards. Next, he armed himself with the 
 mail jerkin and steel-cap of one of the slain archers, 
 added thereto a short sword, then fled precipitately to 
 find help to extricate the earl. 
 
 And he was but just in time. 
 
 Scarcely had he disappeared, when a searching party 
 of the king's men came to that quarter of the field, and 
 carried off triumphantly the dead knight upon whom 
 Grillonne had fixed the earl's helmet.' 
 
 ' See Appendix, Note C.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HOW THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 
 
 The days passed drearily for the Countess of East 
 Anglia, mewed up within the protecting walls of 
 Norwich Castle, and the anxiety she felt on behalf of 
 her husband and brother made the hours seem un- 
 utterably long. 
 
 Her office of Castellan was no unusual one for 
 women in those days. The annals of chivalry teem 
 with stories of noble ladies who held castles for their 
 male relatives or feudal superiors, but as no encm}- 
 was, at present, near the castle, it did not afford her 
 much occupation. 
 
 An occasional hawking or fishing party was organised 
 for her entertainment, but the disturbed state of the 
 country, the fear of treachery, and the uncertainty of 
 the whereabouts of the king's forces, rendered so large 
 an escort necessary, and entailed so much trouble 
 and preparation, that the sport was robbed of all 
 zest. If orders were given in the c\cning, it most 
 frequently happened that the morning would be 
 wet and uninviting ; if left till a suitable morning 
 had dawned, all freshness had vanished before the 
 
 173
 
 174 J^O]]' THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 
 
 advancing sun ere so large a party could be put in 
 motion. 
 
 Moreover, Emma had little heart for such entertain- 
 ment, which chiefly served to bring back memories of 
 happier days, when Earl Roger and Ralph de Guader 
 had been beside her ; and all the prowess of her Danish 
 hawk did but remind her of her husband and his 
 dangers. Soar, and stoop, and chancelier as he might, 
 he failed to move her enthusiasm, and did but render 
 her more sad, while the encomiums of Sir Alain De 
 Gourin, who made a point of attending her on these 
 expeditions, irked rather than pleased her. His criti- 
 cisms, admiring as they were, seemed to her impertinent 
 when passed on a bird which Ralph de Guader had 
 pronounced as one of the most perfect he had ever 
 seen. 
 
 So she strove to cheat the hours by embroidering a 
 magnificent mantle for her absent lord, using all the 
 most elaborate Saxon stitches, which she had learned 
 from Eadgyth, who sat ever at her elbow to help her, 
 if she forgot her lesson. Such gorgeous mantles were 
 much in fashion among the Norman exquisites. 
 
 Eadgyth herself was busy, by Emma's desire, making 
 an altar-cloth for the chapel of the castle, in which 
 the De Guader and East Anglian arms were mingled 
 somewhat incongruously with pictorial illustrations of 
 the life of St. Nicholas. The chaplain of the aforesaid 
 chapel had drawn the designs, being a very clever 
 limner and illuminator, and he took great interest in 
 the progress of the pious work, losing no opportunity
 
 HO IV THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 175 
 
 to visit the fair enibroideress when she was engaged 
 upon it. 
 
 He was a young Breton of good family, but had sunk 
 his patronymic for the priestly ' Father Pierre,' the 
 venerable title being rather incongruous to his boyish 
 face and shy, shrinking ways. He was an ascetic 
 enthusiast, believing sternly in the mortification of the 
 flesh, and his young cheeks were sunken, his large dark 
 eyes hollow and glittering, and his tall figure painfully 
 emaciated. But his sternness was all for himself; to his 
 flock he was the kindest of pastors, and in his humility 
 he did not venture to enter upon political matters, 
 accepting the judgment of his feudal superior as para- 
 mount, and not to be questioned. 
 
 Emma did not feel drawn to him. Her practical 
 nature could not comprehend or draw comfort from his 
 mystic and dreamy ecstasies, and she needed a strong, 
 clear-headed guide, to advise her on the tangible and 
 imminent perplexities that encircled her. 
 
 ' Oh for an hour of Father Theodred ! ' she sighed 
 one day, when Father Pierre had left the apartment, 
 after making a vague reply to a question she had 
 addressed to him, touching some small urgent duty of 
 the hour. ' Our good chaplain hath more anxiety 
 regarding the ordering of thy needlework warriors for 
 the adornment of his chapel, than for the bodies of the 
 living men who are defending it, mcthinks ! In good 
 sooth, Eadgyth, I feel tired of this stitchery. I would 
 the wind blew not so keenly on the battlements. I 
 could be ever watching the horizon like some sea-rover's
 
 176 HO IV THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 
 
 deserted mate, looking out for the glint of sun on a 
 steel headpiece, as such an one would watch for a sail. 
 The stone walls well-nigh stifle me ! I feel entombed 
 sitting here, where I cannot see if any approach to bring 
 tidings of my dear lord ! Fetch me mantle and head- 
 rail, sweet damsel. Methinks, if I sit here longer, 
 chewing the cud of bitter reflection, I shall go stark 
 staring mad. Let us go to the battlements and fight 
 the wind ! ' 
 
 Eadgyth, whose more phlegmatic temperament did 
 not seek relief from mental pain in physical exercise, 
 smiled at the restlessness of her friend, but instantly 
 laid aside her needlework, aud sought her lady's tire- 
 woman, who brought the wished-for garments. 
 
 In a few moments Emma and Eadgyth had left 
 the lodge, ascended the spiral staircase in the great 
 tower, and were pacing upon the battlements. It was 
 one of those grey chilly days, frequent in the Eastern 
 counties, when the north-west wind brings haze from 
 the Fenlands, and the Wash, and the North Sea ; 
 covering the sky with a leaden pall, and bringing winter 
 into summer's heart. Columns of dust rose along the 
 roadways, but the wind swept away all mist and fog, 
 and the country showed bleak and naked to the 
 horizon. 
 
 The sentinels saluted their countess and her lady- 
 in-waiting with a deep reverence, but they were 
 accustomed to see their fair Castellan scanning the 
 distance, as if distrusting that any eyes could be so 
 keen and faithful as her own.
 
 HO IV THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 177 
 
 They paced the circuit of the battlements some five 
 or six times, and played with the pigeons that crowded 
 upon the merlons, and greeted them with soft cooing 
 and much fluttering of soft-coloured pinions, for they 
 knew well that Emma's gipsire was generally stored 
 with peas for them. 
 
 Suddenly Emma caught her bower-maiden by the 
 wrist. 
 
 * See ! ' she cried. ' Aly sail is in sight ! Dost thou 
 not catch the glint of a morion over yonder ? ' 
 
 They were on the southern side of the keep, and she 
 indicated a far speck upon the course of the Ikenicld 
 way. 
 
 ' Nay,' replied Eadgyth, 'mine eyes reach not so far, 
 the more especially as this stinging wind brings unbidden 
 tears into them.' 
 
 'I am right, Eadgyth — it is a horseman approaching! 
 IIo, sentinel I thy vigil is no very keen one ! ' 
 
 ' In sooth, lad)-, I can see naught,' answered the 
 sentinel, with a respectful salutation. 
 
 It had been a favourite amusement with iunma, when 
 
 a girl at Clifford Castle, to challenge her maidens and 
 
 squires, and any noble visitor who might chance to be 
 
 present, to a trial of sight, from the walls of that goodly 
 
 fortress, and seldom had she found any who could 
 
 rival her for length of vision. She proved to be right 
 
 on this occasion. A horseman was approaching, and 
 
 at a gallop, and the sentinels soon acknowledged his 
 
 coming and ga\-e the fitting signal. 
 
 A while later, and tb.e traveller had reached the 
 
 M
 
 178 HO IV THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 
 
 barbican, and, after a short parley, the portculHs was 
 raised, the drawbridge lowered, and he rode forward 
 into the courtyard of the castle. 
 
 Emma descended full of tremulous excitement. Sir 
 Alain de Gourin met her, on his w^ay to the courtyard, 
 to question the new-comer. 
 
 ' I will send word at once, if he prove to be one of 
 the earl's men, or brings any message or news,' said 
 Sir Alain. 
 
 ' Nay,' replied Emma, ' I will myself go down. Each 
 moment of waiting will prove a year.' 
 
 So, with Eadgyth beside her, and her train of ladies 
 following, she went down to the great portal on the 
 east side of the keep, whence a short time before she 
 had bidden ' God Speed ' to her noble spouse and his 
 army. 
 
 The horseman was surrounded by a curious crowd 
 of soldiers and domestics. Archers and men-at-arms 
 of all sorts and conditions from the guard-room, pages, 
 squires, cooks, and scullions, had all come forth to see. 
 Certain of the garrison w^ho had been trying their 
 strength for pastime in a wrestling bout, had left their 
 sport, and stood with brawny arms akimbo, and mouths 
 agape. Even the pale face of the chaplain was amongst 
 the group, his dark eyes gazing with pity and awe upon 
 the man who formed its centre. 
 
 He was in sorry plight ! His horse, flecked with 
 foam and bloody with spurring, head down, nostrils 
 red, and limbs trembling with fatigue, looked as though 
 another mile had been utterly beyond his spent
 
 The Tower Stairs.
 
 HOH' THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 179 
 
 powers. The casque of the rider was battered, and his 
 countenance so gashed with wounds as to be beyond 
 recognition, nor did his surcoat or harness in any way 
 help to show his identity, so stained and torn were they. 
 Shield he had none, and his right arm hung straightly 
 at his side. 
 
 He took no heed of the crowd buzzing round him, 
 nor of the countess standing at the portal of the keep, 
 with Sir Alain de Gourin at her right, and Sir Hoiil de 
 St. Brice on her left, and her train of ladies and squires 
 behind her, but sat on his panting steed, with his chin 
 sunk on his breast. 
 
 Suddenly one from the circle around him cried, ' Mart 
 de via vie ! He has lost a foot as well as a hand ! ' 
 
 A murmur of surprise burst round him. 
 
 ' Those arc no gashes gained in fair fighting ! His 
 nose is slit ! Saints and angels! He has been in the 
 hands of the Bastard's men ! We all know how William 
 serves his prisoners ! ' 
 
 ' Speak, Sir Fugitive, or Sir Messenger, or whatever 
 your name is,' thundered Dc Gourin, 'and speedily! 
 Is it so? Who art thou? For thy beauty is so spoiled 
 we are at a loss by what title to greet thee ! By the 
 rood ! his own mother would not know him ! ' 
 
 The countess hastily bade her leech be called, and 
 shuddered, not only with pity, but with a dread pre- 
 sentiment of evil, as the ghastly witness of men's 
 merciless cruelty turned his maimed face towards them, 
 his bloodshot eyes staring vacantK-, half dazed with 
 terror and pain.
 
 I So HO]]^ THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 
 
 'It is all over!' he muttered hoarsely, forcing" his 
 swollen lips to utter the words with difficulty. ' The 
 earl is slain, and my master ; and the army is scattered 
 like a flock of sheep ! Flee, flee ! They are coming- 
 after me to storm the castle ! ' 
 
 He raised his right arm, from which the hand had 
 been riven, the stump black with the searing of red-hot 
 irons with which the flow of blood had been staunched, 
 in a gesture of entreaty. 
 
 A fearful witness truly as to what might be expected 
 to follow on defeat. 
 
 A howl of fierce anger ran around the court)"ard, 
 and many a strong breast heaved with an indignant 
 sob of impotent rage ; curses loud and deep were 
 showered on the heads of William of Normandy and 
 his vicegerents. 
 
 ' Heed him not, noble Emma ! ' cried Sir Hoel de 
 St. Brice hastily. ' By the Holy Virgin ! 'tis but a 
 recreant who has let himself be made prisoner, and now 
 repeats the story they have stuffed him with ! Out of 
 his wits with their rough treatment, and small wonder! 
 May the Foul Fiend seize them for their barbarity ! ' 
 
 ' Christ be my witness, I speak sooth ! ' cried the 
 unfortunate fugitive. ' I am Stephen le Hareau, squire 
 of the body to Sir Guy de Landerneau, and I swear 
 by the Holy Cross, I saw the earl fall with mine own 
 eyes ! ' 
 
 'Thou Stephen le Hareau? Thou?' shouted Sir 
 Alain de Gourin, startled out of his equanimity as he 
 looked at the pitiful object before his eyes, and re-
 
 HOH' THE CONCIUEROR DEALS Wmi REBELS. iSi 
 
 membered the handsome gallant he had seen ride from 
 the castle gates a few weeks before. 
 
 A fresh hiss of execration burst from the bystanders, 
 as the cruelty of the young man's fate came home to 
 them. 
 
 Stephen le Hareau ! The handsomest and most 
 popular squire in the earl's following ! They knew 
 him, too, for a brave and dauntless soldier. 
 
 Sir Hoel looked towards the countess, wondering 
 how she would bear the blow, for the difficulty with 
 which she had maintained her self-control when she 
 had parted with her noble bridegroom had been 
 manifest to all, and now the worst fears she could 
 then have entertained were declared to have come to 
 pass. 
 
 But Emma, who had shrunk from the approach of 
 evil, stood firm to meet its actual contact. Her face 
 was white as marble, and her lips quivered, but she said 
 in a firm voice, — 
 
 'The cruelty this poor gentleman has undergone 
 may well nerve our hearts to resistance. St. Nicholas 
 grant thou art in the right, Sir I loci. He may well 
 deem things blacker than they are ! I prithee, keep 
 him no longer answering our wiin queries. Let him 
 be lifted from his horse and carried to the spital. I will 
 tend him with my own hands. His poor steed also, 
 let it be cared for.' 
 
 ICadgyth and sc\-eral of the ladies were sobbing 
 hysterically behind her. She turned to them. 
 
 'Courage, dames and damsels!' she said, with a
 
 1 82 //OJl' THE CONQUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 
 
 simple dignity that shamed them into self-control. 
 ' I have heard as evil tales as this, and found them 
 vanish like dreams at the breaking of the morn.' 
 
 She gathered her robes around her and swept back 
 into the keep, and, calling her tirewoman, ordered her 
 to bring sundry essences and simples, which, like every 
 noble lady of the time, she kept by her, the science of 
 medicine being chiefly in feminine hands in those days. 
 Then, bidding Eadgyth to attend her, she proceeded 
 at once to the spital, to leech the unfortunate squire. 
 
 She stopped a few moments in the chapel, to direct 
 the chaplain to offer masses for the souls of those who 
 had fallen in the battle. A sob caught her breath as 
 she remembered the earnest repetition with which 
 Stephen le Hareau had declared that the earl was 
 amongst them. 
 
 But she dare not think, and went on hurriedly to 
 direct that others should be offered for the safety of 
 those who had escaped, and for the success of their 
 undertaking. 
 
 Her ministrations to the wounded man kept at bay 
 the fierce troop of agonising thoughts that were throng- 
 ing down upon her like a pack of hungry wolves. 
 Rolling bandages, and preparing salves and unguents, 
 she had scarce time to speculate upon the probability 
 of the truth of her patient's direful news. True, no 
 doubt, it was as far as his knowledge went, but there 
 was hope, as Sir Hoel had suggested, that his report 
 of the battle had been supplied by their opponents, and 
 himself sent off by them, as a messenger of evil tidings,
 
 HO]V THE CONQL'EROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 183 
 
 with the express intent of demoralising the garrison of 
 Blauncheflour. 
 
 The physical sufferings of the poor squire were so 
 terrible to witness, that Emma almost forgot the awful 
 shadow of death and impending peril that hung over 
 her own head, and the hours flew past without her 
 noticing their flight. All that she and her leech and 
 her ladies could do to lessen his pain was done, but it 
 was not much. 
 
 Even in these days little could be done for such a 
 case, with all the skill of advanced science. 
 
 Presently a page came to the countess with a message 
 from the two knights, St. Brice and Dc Gourin, begging 
 her to Gfive them audience in the council-chamber. 
 
 ' Watch over my sufferer, Eadgyth,' said Emma. 
 
 When she entered the apartment in which the two 
 knights were awaiting her, she quivered with apprehen- 
 sion as she saw their grave faces. Sir Hod's kindly 
 visage was white as his silver hair, and even Sir Alain's 
 inflamed countenance was a shade less purple-red than 
 usual, while his expression was distinctly anxious. 
 
 They both hesitated to speak, but the countess broke 
 the pause. 
 
 'Tell me the worst, gentle sirs, I pray you. Suspense 
 is ever hardest to bear, and I see you have ill news.' 
 
 Sir Hoel advanced and took her hand in both his 
 own, a little forgetting the ceremony due to her rank, 
 in his huge pity for her youth and the forlorn fate that 
 he feared too surely had befallen her. 
 
 'Alas, dear ladv, the news is ill indeed! Sir Walter
 
 1 84 HO]]' THE CONQUEROR DEALS ]]'ITH REBELS. 
 
 Deresfort, and the Saxon thegn, Alfnoth of Walsliam, 
 with some dozen men-at-arms, have ridden in from 
 Cambridgeshire, and confirm ' — a sob broke his voice — 
 ' in every item the dire tidings brought by poor Stephen 
 le Hareau.' 
 
 'Do they say, then, that I am a widow?' asked 
 Emma in a strange, hard voice, with so awful a calm 
 in it, that the thick-skinned Sir Alain, who was little 
 wont to heed the tears or shrieks of women, or to spare 
 them in any respect if they stood in his way, shuddered 
 as he heard it. He thought the countess was going 
 mad. 
 
 ' I fear,' answered Sir Hoel, ' there is no doubt the 
 earl is slain, St. Nicholas rest his soul ! ' 
 
 'Then, gentlemen,' asked Emma in the same strange 
 tone, ' what is to be done } ' 
 
 ' God knows ! ' exclaimed Sir Hoel, the great tears 
 running down his furrowed face, and dripping upon his 
 hauberk. 
 
 ' Noble lady,' said Sir Alain eagerly, speaking for 
 the first time, ' it is well known that the wrath of the 
 Primate, and of his master, William the Norman, is 
 principally enkindled against the countrymen of the 
 late earl. Thy safety, most noble countess, is, of course, 
 what every man in the garrison would give his life to 
 insure, therefore my humble counsel, for what it may 
 be worth, is that thou shouldest at once take ship with 
 the trusty Bretons under my command, and make for 
 Bretagne, and thy late husband's estates of Guader and 
 Montfort.'
 
 nO]\' THE CO\(2rEROR DEALS /r/77/ REliEI.S. 185 
 
 'What is thy counsel, Sir Hoel?' demanded Emma, 
 still with the same unnatural calm. 
 
 'Dear lady, I would advise thee as doth Sir Alain.' 
 
 ' But would not the garrison, thus bereft of half their 
 numbers, fall an instant prey to the enemy?' asked 
 Emma. 
 
 ' It is not William's policy to provoke the Saxons, 
 and to his own countrymen he is ever complacent,' 
 urged De Gourin, with the same eagerness. ' Therefore 
 my meaning is, that the castle be surrendered at once, 
 in which case the garrison would probabh' be softly 
 dealt with, we Bretons being out of the way ; whereas 
 further resistance will be useless, and will but further 
 provoke their vengeance, the style of which we have 
 seen.' 
 
 ' Art thou of this advice also. Sir Hoel ? ' demanded 
 Emma. 
 
 Sir Hoel bowed his head. ' Dear lady,' he said, 
 'there is no doubt that the Primate hath animosity 
 against us Bretons, and may prove kinder to Normans 
 and Saxons ; yet methinks I will stand by them, and 
 advise them not to try his mercy sooner than is needful. 
 I counsel, therefore, that thou shouldest so far follow 
 Sir Alain's advice, as to take ship with himself and his 
 band for Bretagne. I-'or my part, I will fight for it with 
 the garrison remaining to me. IMaunchcflour has been 
 built to stand a siege, and we ma}- well victual it before 
 supplies can be cut off. Wc may j'ct make good terms.' 
 
 'There spoke the spirit of a true knight!' cried 
 ICmma, turning on De Gourin with so fierce a flash in
 
 i86 HOJV THE CONilUEROR DEALS WITH REBELS. 
 
 her eyes, that he started, so great a change was it from 
 the stony indifference of her former manner. 
 
 ' Go, fair sir, if it suits thee ! Take all thy faint- 
 hearted mercenaries with thee to their native Bretagne ! 
 I will stay with Sir Hocil and defend this castle, which 
 the earl gave into my charge. The late earl, thou 
 said'st ? Methinks thou art wondrous quick to make 
 so certain of his death ! Methinks all these gallant 
 gentlemen who have galloped back to the safe walls of 
 Blauncheflour in such hot haste, scarce waited to see 
 if he was wounded or slain ! For nic he will never be 
 the late earl. On earth or in heaven he is my husband 
 still, and I will hold his castle, hoping, perhaps selfishly, 
 that he will come to claim it. I will hold it if only to 
 have vengeance on his foes ! ' 
 
 Sir Hoel watched her in delighted surprise. Sir 
 Alain flushed hotly under her attack, but could not 
 but admire the high-spirited beauty as she hurled her 
 indignant taunts at his head. 
 
 ' Now, by all the saints ! thou art unjust to me and 
 my poor following, noble lady ! ' he exclaimed. ' My 
 object was but to secure thy safety.' 
 
 ' If the earl be indeed slain,' said Emma, with a tremor 
 in her voice, ' my safety boots me but little ; if he be 
 not, it is important that Blauncheflour hold out to the 
 last gasp. Besides, ye know not how it fares with my 
 brother of Hereford ; his arms have perchance prevailed, 
 and he may be able to relieve us.' 
 
 'A slender hope,' said Sir Alain impatient!}'. 'But 
 our lives are at thy disposal, noble Emma.'
 
 HOir THE CO.YiJUEROR PEALS WITH REBELS. 187 
 
 He accompanied this speech with a smile of homage, 
 which he meant to be irresistibly touching and pathetic ; 
 for a new idea had come into the adventurer's bullet-head, 
 which somewhat gilded the pill of hard fighting without 
 hope of plunder, which the countess's decision forced 
 him to swallow. He remembered that if, as he fully 
 believed, De Guader was slain, the beautiful Emma 
 had become a widow with a goodly dower ! for even 
 if, as was probable, her late husband's possessions in 
 England were forfeit through his treason, and all 
 English and Norman property of her own, the estates 
 of Guader and Montfort were beyond William's juris- 
 diction, and she would doubtless draw rich rents from 
 them. This rich prize was here under his hand, and, to 
 a great extent, in his power. If he played his cards 
 well, he might secure her for himself, albeit she was 
 William of Normandy's kinswoman. 
 
 But the good old Sir Hocl looked at her fair, flushed 
 face with very different thoughts. ' God bless thcc, 
 dear young lady,' he said, with a husky voice. ' He 
 would be a coward indeed who grudged to give his life 
 for thee ! Though, for that matter, we must needs fight 
 for our own sakes, so we need not ti}- to make out that 
 all our valour is on thy behalf! ' 
 
 Emma met his kind eyes, and scarce bore their 
 sympathy. 
 
 She turned away hastil}-. 'There must be more 
 wounded in the spital,' she said ; ' I must tend tlicm. 
 Make what preparation needs for holding out under a 
 long siege.'
 
 1 88 /fO]]' THE CONQUEI^OR DEALS WITH REBELS. 
 
 And so saying she quitted the apartment. 
 
 ' Alas ! ' Sir Hocl murmured, more to himself than 
 to De Gourin, when she was gone, ' I doubt she is 
 buoying herself with a false hope, and that our noble 
 De Guader will glad her eyes no more.' 
 
 ' By the rood ! ' answered Sir Alain, ' I doubt so too. 
 But methinks so fair a widow, and so well-dowered and 
 youthful withal, may find consolation on this side the 
 grave. Holy Mary ! A dame of spirit ! If our motley 
 garri.son, Saxons, Danes, Flemings, and other, were 
 of metal that would ring to the same tune^ our case 
 would not look so desperate.' 
 
 ' Methinks the mercenaries under thy hand are the 
 most doubtful metal within the walls, good sir,' answered 
 Sir Hocl gravely, eyeing his companion somewhat 
 keenly. ' If thou canst get the right ring out of them, 
 I think I can answer for the rest ! '
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 'O HIGH AMBITION LOWI.Y LAHO ! ' 
 
 The choughs and ravens which had flapped hizily 
 away, with noisy wings and harsh croaking, when the 
 RoyaHsts had come to search amongst the dead and 
 wounded for Ralph de Guader, had settled down to 
 their banquet again as soon as their disturbers had 
 departed, mistakenly laden with the body of the Breton 
 knight whom Grillonne had decorated with the earl's 
 helmet. Their foul beaks were busy with the flesh of 
 the dead and the eyes of the living. 
 
 The harsh clamour of these noisy revellers [)icrcctl at 
 length to the fainting ears of the fallen earl, who was 
 in some measure revived by the cordial which Grillonne 
 had poured down his throat. Consciousness came back 
 to him, a poor exchange, under such circumstances, for 
 kind oblivion. I'or he could move neither hand nor foot, 
 and the weight upon his chest was as the oppression of 
 a fearful nightmare — a nightmare from which there was 
 no awaking. He lay helpless — the living under the dead ! 
 
 Above him stretched the twilight sky, still flushed 
 with fleeting, blood-red clouds, beyond which, from pale 
 green pools of infuiite depth, glimmered, here and there,
 
 1 90 ' O HIGH A MBITION LOWLY LA ID I ' 
 
 a silvery star. To the right stretched the sombre heath, 
 its rising hills crested with fantastic figures of contorted 
 slain, men and horses stiffened into uncouth and terrible 
 forms ; while groaning wounded were heaped between 
 them, their panting anguish not less awful than the 
 silence of the dead. 
 
 To his left also were witnesses of battle, but not so 
 many, for on that side the hungry morasses had 
 swallowed them up. To the south and west the 
 measureless fen stretched to the horizon, crimson to its 
 farthest verge with the ensanguined glow of the sun, 
 the tall reeds reddened like warrior's lances that had 
 been dipped in the life-blood of the foe. 
 
 The air was full of the awful scent of wounds and 
 blood, and the weird, dank odours of the decaying 
 sedges, while the wailing wind piped and moaned over 
 the wold, swaying the rushes, though scarcely making 
 a ripple on the protected surfaces of the bottomless 
 lagoons. 
 
 Mallard and teal and plover came circling back to 
 their haunts in the lonely swamps, now that the din of 
 battle, which had frightened them, was over and done ; 
 and, as the twilight deepened, bats and owls came 
 forth with silent wings to hunt their night-roaming 
 pre\'. 
 
 Ralph's open eyes looked only into the sky, and at the 
 wild, wind-driven clouds fleeting across the calm, im- 
 mutable heavens beyond, as the struggling hosts of 
 mortals fleet over the face of eternity. 
 
 His soul was filled with an overwhelming sense of
 
 ' O HIGH A MBl TR hV LOU 7. ] ' LA H) ! '' 191 
 
 desolation and guilt. He had brought his fate upon 
 
 himself, and he must face the Shadow of the Valley of 
 
 Death, all forsworn and blood-stained as he was ; alone, 
 
 helpless. No wife to comfort him, no priest to absolve 
 
 him, 
 
 'Cul oft' even in the blossoms of his sin, 
 Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd.' 
 
 Against the clear spaces of the sky, he saw, high up, 
 almost above the clouds, an ordered flight of wild swans 
 passing swiftly westward into the sunset glow. 
 
 Oh, that he were free as they, winged as the wind ! 
 His spirit writhed in fierce rebellion. He put forth all 
 his force in a wild struggle to drag his limbs from the 
 prisoning mass that detained them, but he could not 
 lift the ghastly burden that weighted him to earth an 
 inch. 
 
 ' Mary in heaven, help me ! ' he groaned. ' I am 
 scarce wounded, and so strong ! It will take me hours 
 to die, and these foul birds will perish mine eyes ! ' 
 
 The cold sweat burst from his brow, and, as he 
 writhed again, he somewhat shook his head, and the 
 bells on the jester's cap tinkled. 
 
 He quivered with astonishment, and contrived so far 
 to lift his head as to catch a glimpse of the points of 
 the cape which covered his shoulders. At first the idea 
 seized him that he was no longer on earth at all, but in 
 purgatory, and dressed in a jester's garb, in that his sin 
 had been through the folly of pride and mad ambition. 
 Then, with a flash, came the joyous thought of Grillonnc, 
 the faithful, the ready of wit, the fertile of resource.
 
 192 ' O HIGH AMIU TION LO]\'LV LA JD ! ' 
 
 iV wild gladness came to him, but as the sky grew 
 dark, and the stars were obscured by clouds, hope left 
 him again. 
 
 ' If it w^erc he indeed, he has forgotten me, or has met 
 his death in trying to save me.' 
 
 Then all the joys of earth passed before him in a fair 
 pageant, and he thought of his young bride with her 
 clear, loving eyes that he might never see again, and 
 to whom he had been united with such magnificence 
 scarcely a month before, and who was but a itw short 
 miles from the scene of his present suffering ; and at 
 the thought, burning tears welled from beneath his 
 closed lids and rolled down his bronzed cheeks, moist- 
 ening the parti-coloured edges of Grillonne's cape. 
 
 ' Ah, it is bitter ! ' he groaned. 
 
 ' Not more bitter for thee than for the scores and tens 
 of scores thou hast led into like misery,' said awakened 
 conscience grimly. 
 
 ^ Mca culpa! nica r/z/^rt.'' murmured the unfortunate 
 warrior in his anguish. ' My days have been evil in the 
 land. I have sought not the will of Heaven, but mine 
 own vain-glory. But oh, Mary Mother, let not my sins 
 be visited on the head of my sweet lady ! as thou wert 
 a woman, protect her from all harm ! Sure William will 
 be merciful to his kinswoman.' 
 
 Dismal indeed were the thoughts that chased each 
 other across his restless brain, which seemed to make 
 up by its activity for the enforced stillness of his body. 
 Visions crowded upon him of his castle of Klaunche- 
 flour in flames, and his lady in the power of insulting
 
 ' O HIGH AMBITION 10 WL V LAID / ' 193 
 
 or — and it was little less terrible to his ambitious, 
 jealous spirit — too-courteous conquerors, some one of 
 whom might, perchance, find favour in her eyes and 
 drive his memory from her heart. 
 
 At length, however, as the stillness of the night fell 
 over the plain, broken only by the moaning wind or the 
 agonised groan of some fellow-sufferer, he grew calmer, 
 and a deep resignation flooded his breast. 
 
 ' Mea culpa!' he murmured again. Death seemed 
 inevitable, and he bowed his spirit humbly to accept it 
 
 Hark !— 
 
 The mingled anguish and joy of hope awaked once 
 more. For the silence was broken by a sound so faint 
 that his listening ears could scarce detect its repetition, 
 distracted as they were by the tumultuous pulses which 
 throbbed at the possibility of escape. Yet why hope 
 rather than fear ? Why should the sound of ap- 
 proaching steps mean friends rather than foes? 
 
 The fact grew certain. Steps were approaching, and 
 were accompanied by a clash of arms that betokened 
 soldiery. 
 
 How he strained to catch every faint sound that 
 might indicate the direction in which these, his fellow- 
 men, alive and strong and capable of help, were 
 moving ! 
 
 ' St. Nicholas befriend me ! If the miracle is wrought 
 
 that I be rescued from this living tomb, I vow to make 
 
 pilgrimage to the Holy Sepulchre before my days are 
 
 done ! ' 
 
 Then he shuddered in sick misery lest the band 
 
 N
 
 1 94 ' O HIGH AMBITION LOWLY LAID r 
 
 should pass him by ! Better a blow from the miseri- 
 corde of an enemy, than the languishing torture of his 
 present position. 
 
 Others thought so too, for he heard more than one 
 piteous cry for help. 
 
 Then he, the proud earl, lifted up a feeble voice and 
 craved deliverance, even by death ! — 
 
 And it came. 
 
 ' Here ! here ! This way, my lads, this way ! ' cried 
 the familiar voice of the faithful jester. ' Look you, 
 galliards, there is my famous cap and cape ! Saints be 
 praised ! He wears them still. The Lord grant there 
 is a living skull in the cap. I shrewdly thought I heard 
 him squeak ! ' 
 
 'Ay, Grillonne, thou didst, sure enough!' cried the 
 earl ; and the revulsion of feeling from despair to hope 
 was so great that he fainted again. 
 
 When he revived, his head was in Grillonne's arms, 
 and the intolerable weight of the slain who had fallen 
 above him was removed from his limbs, which, however, 
 were so numbed that he could not move them. Half-a- 
 dozen stout fellows, archers, slingers, and spearmen, 
 were bustling about him, dimly visible by the light of a 
 horn lantern which one of them carried. 
 
 Grillonne, seeing his eyes open, instantly held a flask 
 to his lips, and when the draught had helped his revival, 
 nodded sagely. 
 
 ' 'Tis well to be taken for a fool sometimes, nuncle.' 
 he remarked, twitching his tinkling cap from the earl's 
 head. ' Thy fine helmet has been carried off in triumph
 
 ' O HIGH AMBITION LO WL V LAID ! ' 195 
 
 to the enemy's camp on the corse of poor Sir Guy de 
 Landerneau, whom I bedecked with it ; seeing that, as 
 they had already killed him as dead as a Norwich red 
 herring, they could do him no further hurt. 'Twill have 
 given us time even if they discover the cheat, as most 
 like they will, for so many of them are full well 
 acquainted with thy noble hawk nose.' 
 
 ' Ah, Grillonne ready-wit/ said the earl, 'St. Nicholas 
 reward thee ! That prince of hypocrisy, Lanfranc, may 
 say that jesters have no hope, and are doomed without 
 fail to the worm that dieth not and the fire that knows 
 no quenching!^ But I tell thee, Grillonne, he in hell 
 shall pray to thee in heaven as Dives to Lazarus ! ' and 
 the groaning noble kissed the hand that lay upon his 
 breast, albeit the member belonged to one of that de- 
 spised class, for death is a greater leveller than any 
 democrat or republican of them all, and Ralph de 
 Guader had held long converse with him. 
 
 Grillonne raised the hand which had been so honoured 
 to his own lips and added some hearty smacks to the 
 aristocratic salute it had received. 
 
 ' Nay, my dear lord,' he said in a rather husky voice, 
 ' I v/ould fain lay that hand up in lavender and take it to 
 heaven with me when I die, since thou thinkcst I have 
 hope to get there. But alack ! we have rough work be- 
 fore us to prevent thee from getting thither before thy 
 
 1 ' D. Have jesters hope? M. None. In their wliole design tliey are 
 the ministers of Satan. Of them it is said : " They have not known God, 
 therefore God hath despised them, and the Lord shall have them in de- 
 rision, for mockers shall be mocked."' — Lanfranc's Elucidariuni, p. 256, 
 quoted by Hook, Lives of the Archbishops of Canterbury.
 
 1 96 ' O HIGH AMBITION LOWLY LAID / ' 
 
 palace is prepared for thee. Thou art not saved yet by 
 a very long chalk. If St. Nicholas is half so generous 
 as thou deemest, he will give me my reward at once, like 
 a free-handed gentleman, in the shape of success to the 
 safe ending of my undertaking ; nor must we spend 
 further time in palaver.' 
 
 He beckoned to the men who were with him, and four 
 of them came forward with a litter roughly woven of 
 osiers, of which a plentiful supply was near at hand. 
 Grillonne and another lifted the earl into it, and they set 
 off at a rapid pace, the jester guiding them along the 
 smoothest path ; and watching over his charge with 
 tender care. 
 
 To De Guader it seemed as if he were couched on 
 pillows of softest down, notwithstanding his wounds 
 and the pain the motion caused him, for the joy of 
 being rescued from his horrible entombment, and of 
 having yet a chance of life and love, was so intense that 
 he seemed to be in a dream of bliss. 
 
 His eyes filled with grateful tears each time that a 
 gleam from the lantern gave him a fitful glimpse of 
 Grillonne's face. Never had he thought to be so glad 
 to look on that wizened, whimsical countenance, with 
 its oblique eyes twinkling with mingled malice and 
 affection, and which seemed almost quainter under the 
 conical steel-cap with the nasal, in which he had en- 
 sconced it on giving up his cap to the earl, than in that 
 strange headgear itself 
 
 The way w^as no flowery one either. Slain men and 
 horses encumbered the bearers at every step, and more
 
 • O HIGH AMBITION LOWL V LAID / ' 197 
 
 than one pitiful voice from some wounded wretch, in 
 such ph'ght as the earl had just been rescued from, be- 
 sought them in mercy to stop and give aid, for the sake 
 of Mary Mother and the saints in heaven. Most pitiful 
 of all was the cry for ' Water, for the love of Christ ! ' 
 from men whose limbs were actually immersed in the 
 rippling edges of the meres or engulfed in the slimy 
 ooze, and who were so faint from wounds, or so set fast 
 by the slain above them, that they could reach no drop 
 wherewith to moisten their parched lips and slake the 
 burning death-thirst which tormented them. But they 
 cried to deaf ears; nay, when entreating arms were 
 thrown around the limbs of the litter-bearers, a sharp 
 cut across the knuckles with dagger or anlacc speedily 
 unclasped the detaining fingers, whether they belonged 
 to friend or foe. 
 
 It was rough treatment, but the men were risking 
 their lives in their endeavour to save that of the earl, 
 and delay would have been fatal both to him and to 
 themselves. The fact that the body of Sir Guy dc 
 Landerneau had been removed by the enemy proved 
 that they desired to make certain of De Guader's fate, 
 and on finding their mistake they might at any time 
 return to rectify it. 
 
 The moon had risen by this, and shone between the 
 swift fleeting clouds that sped across the sk\-. l^y her 
 light and the uncertain glimmer of the lantern, Ralph 
 saw that two of his rescuers wore the winged helms and 
 long moustaches and golden tores distinguishing the 
 costume of the Danes. His heart leapt with hope
 
 198 ' O HIGH AMBITION LO WL V LAID ! ' 
 
 that the messengers he had despatched to the court of 
 King Sweyn had moved the warHke monarch to seize 
 the opportunity of striking a blow at his ancient enemy, 
 Wilh'am of Normandy, and had sent him timely re- 
 inforcements. But their progress was too rapid for 
 speech, and whatever might be his curiosity, he had to 
 lie passive in his litter and allow himself to be borne 
 whithersoever his rescuers pleased. 
 
 And by what a weird and desolate pathway did they 
 bear him ! 
 
 Heading, apparently, for the very heart of the fen 
 that stretched westward as far as eye could reach, its 
 level surface unbroken by tree or hill, and only varied 
 by beds of tall reeds and snake-like pools of still, dark 
 water, the surfaces of which were scarcely rippled by 
 the gusty breeze, they advanced steadily for the better 
 part of an hour. 
 
 The fitful light of the half shrouded moon cast 
 ghastly gleams upon the waving plumes of the flowering 
 sedges and white tufts of the meadow-sweet, whose 
 strong and somewhat sickly perfume mingled, strangely 
 luscious, with the dank odours of peat and decaying 
 rushes and grasses. Now and again some frightened 
 bird flew screaming from its roosting-place, or dusky 
 water-rat glided hastily into thicker cover, or plunged 
 with a flop into the water, while the pipe of the curlew, 
 or boom of the bittern, sounded from afar ofl" in the 
 melancholy marshes. The loneliness was intense, and 
 seemed but accentuated by the presence of bird and 
 beast.
 
 ' O HIGH AMBITION LOWL V LAID I ' 199 
 
 In the dimness of the cloudy night, with the uncertain 
 bursts of moonlight, that seemed to make the chaos of 
 scarce divided earth and water but more difficult to 
 distinguish, the men who bore the earl threaded their 
 way through the bewildering maze, with an unerring 
 celerity and absence of hesitation that proved them to 
 be no strangers to its mysterious solitude. 
 
 At length they halted, beside a channel less over- 
 grown with weeds and rushes than the many they had 
 passed, and which was, in fact, the Great Ouse River. 
 
 One of the party put a horn to his lips and sounded a 
 couple of mots. His summons was answered from the 
 water, and in a few seconds a boat impelled by eight 
 sturdy oarsmen shot forth from a bend in the river and 
 drew to the bank. The earl was speedily put on board, 
 with the faithful Grillonne at his head, and his bearers 
 embarked, some with him, some in a second boat which 
 had come in the wake of the first. 
 
 De Guader confided himself utterly to the safe 
 keeping of his jester, and the rhythmic sound of the oars, 
 which he believed were every moment bringing him 
 nearer to liberty, soothed him inexpressibly. He fell 
 into a drowsy sleep of exhaustion, never really losing 
 consciousness, but devoid of all impatience, and almost 
 of all curiosity as to whither he was being taken. 
 
 But the splash of the oars ceased at length, and the 
 keel of the boat grated on the shore of a small island, 
 raising a modest crown a little above the level of the 
 surrounding (en. It was protected by an earthwork 
 somewhat similar in construction to the great dykes
 
 200 ' O HIGH AMBITION LOWL Y LAID / 
 
 with which Cambridge is seamed, the Devil's Dyke, 
 Fleamdyke, and others, and, had the Hght served, the 
 low turrets of a long, rambling, two-storied house might 
 have been seen behind its shelter. 
 
 A summons was given by a few mots on the horn, 
 and in answer a deep voice threw a challenge across the 
 sullen surface of the waters, — 
 
 ' Who goes there ? ' 
 
 ' St. Nicholas for Guader ! ' 
 
 A rattle of chains and hoarse creaking of bolts and 
 hinges followed, and a heavy gate was slowly lifted, 
 which admitted the boats into an inner moat. They 
 glided in and moored their vessels at a small landing 
 stage on the opposite side, the gate closing instantly 
 behind them. 
 
 As they did so, the sentry asked anxiously, in a low 
 voice and in the Saxon tongue, 'What cheer?' 
 
 'All's well !' was the answer. 
 
 ' St. P^admund be praised ! ' ejaculated the sentry 
 fervently ; and the earl's heart leapt with a thrill of joy 
 and gratitude to the poor unknown soldier who cared 
 about his safety, so infinitely precious had the humblest 
 human sympathy become to him since those dreadful 
 hours when he had thought himself doomed to quit the 
 cheerful earth and the faces of his fellow-men for ever- 
 more ! 
 
 Inside the enclosure a party of wild-looking ceorls 
 surrounded them, with shaggy locks and rude jerkins of 
 sheepskin, armed with pikes and staves for the most 
 part, but some few better clad, and bearing the terrible
 
 •' O HIGH AMBITION LOWL V LAID / ' 201 
 
 seax ; their brawny necks half hidden by their unshorn 
 beards, which hung in tow-coloured elf-locks round their 
 weather-beaten and scarred faces. Amongst them were 
 one or two tall fellows, dressed, like those in the party of 
 rescuers who had attracted De Guader's attention, in 
 Danish mode. 
 
 This much he gathered by the fitful moonlight and 
 the feeble light of lanterns carried by the men. 
 Question and answer followed quick between his bearers 
 and their rough colleagues, but he could comprehend 
 little of what they said, for they spoke in all manner 
 of tongues and dialects. 
 
 'Thou hast had a harsh ride, I fear me, good nunclc,' 
 said Grillonne, bending over his beloved master with 
 tender solicitude. ' Gramcrc)- ! 'Tis a God-forsaken 
 hole we have brought thee to ; but beggars must not be 
 choosers, and let us hope that the archbishop's people 
 will keep their pious noses from sniffing thee out in it ! 
 Troth ! if they venture them here, I parry, some of 
 these stout carles will slit them for them parlous 
 quick ! ' 
 
 ' Methinks any corner of the earth is better than 
 being quite out of it, (jrillonne,' returned the carl, with 
 a gentle smile. 'I am not like to be critical; but in 
 good sooth I would fain know the title of m\' host?' 
 
 ' I scarce know it m)'self, good ni}' lord,' rci)lied the 
 jester. "Tis a Saxon, or more properly Anglo-Danish 
 thegn, whose son went shares in thy escapade, and has 
 got a maimed foot for his share of the booty, they tell 
 me. The father and son have had a price on their
 
 202 ' O HIGH AMBITION LO WL V LAID I ' 
 
 heads since Hereward Leofricsson's downfall, and have 
 a natural fellow-feeling for thy discomfiture, sweet 
 nuncle.' 
 
 Meanwhile they had reached the entrance of the 
 house, and the earl was borne into a long barnlike hall, 
 very sparsely furnitured, with a table running almost 
 from one end of it to the other, and rude settles and 
 stools placed against it, as in preparation for a meal, 
 At one end was an archway leading into another apart- 
 ment, which seemed, to judge by the heat and the 
 savoury odours, the noises of pots and kettles and other 
 indications which came from it, to be a kitchen ; while 
 at the other end was a cheerful fire of peat, beside which 
 sat an aged warrior wearing the Anglo-Danish tunic 
 and cross-gartered hose, his white hair flowing back 
 over his shoulders and his grizzled beard growing close 
 up his cheeks, so that it seemed almost to meet the 
 bushy white eyebrows that shaded his bright blue eyes. 
 Flis baldric was richly worked with gold, and he wore 
 massive gold bracelets on his arms. 
 
 Beside him stood a broad-shouldered, athletic young 
 man in similar garb; his thick fair hair surrounding his 
 head like a lion's mane, and his long moustaches and 
 golden beard showing lighter than the bronzed skin of his 
 cheeks and chest ; his eyes as bright and blue as those 
 of his father, and his neck and sinewy arms covered 
 with tattoo marks. But the linen tunic he wore was 
 drabbled with mud and gore, and one of his feet was 
 swathed in bandages, through which the crimson stains 
 would force their way, and his muscular hand grasped
 
 ' O HIGH A MB IT ION L O IVL Y LAID !' 203 
 
 the arm of his father's carved oak chair to ease his 
 weight somewhat from the wounded foot. 
 
 On the opposite side of the large open fireplace sat a 
 monk in the habit of the Black Friars, and near by a 
 stately lady, wearing the headrail and flowing robes 
 which had been the fashion in the time of the Confessor; 
 while a bevy of damsels waited behind her, looking to- 
 wards the wounded earl with curious eyes. 
 
 The old thegn rose as the bearers brought their 
 noble burden forward, advanced to the litter, and, 
 bowing with great dignity, said in his own tongue, — 
 
 ' By the Holy Cross ! my heart is glad to see thee 
 safe beneath my roof, oh, valorous earl ! Would that 
 Ealdred Godwinsson had means to offer fitting hospit- 
 ality to the son of Ralph the Staller, in whose hand his 
 own has been placed and under whose standard he has 
 fought in many a hard field ! Alas ! the glory of his 
 house has faded ! Barely can he save his last days from 
 the fury of his foes by hiding in this wilderness of the 
 meres ! But to such as he possesses, thrice welcome, 
 noble earl ! Had not age and infirmity clogged his 
 steps as securely as chains of iron, he had sallied forth 
 to thy rescue himself Had not a spear-thrust in the 
 instep, got this morn while fighting in thy ranks, 
 crippled Leofric his son, that son had gone forth to seek 
 thee.' Here the younger man bowed deep!)- in token 
 of assent antl reverence. ' It boots not! His followers 
 have been true, and thou art here.' 
 
 ' Brave thegn,' returned De Guader, raising himself 
 as far as possible in his litter, ' I thank thee for thy
 
 204 ' O HIGH A MBITION LO WL V LAID .' 
 
 fidelity to a ruined and defeated man ! The saints 
 forefend that my presence bring evil to thy retreat ! ' 
 
 ' Nay,' answered Ealdred, ' had those who would harm 
 us the wit to track us, we had perished long since. But 
 thou art sore wounded ! Berwine, the widow of mine 
 eldest-born, shall leech thy hurts.' 
 
 A couch was prepared in a recess near the fireplace, 
 and the earl was placed thereon. Cordials and delicate 
 soups, with omelettes of plovers' eggs, were brought 
 to tempt his appetite, and the young thegn's widow 
 examined his wounds, paused and dressed them with 
 soothing unguents, and finally bound them up in linen 
 of her own weaving, and with the greatest tenderness 
 and skill. 
 
 Meanwhile the stalwart fellows who had borne the 
 stricken noble so far upon their strong shoulders, — no 
 light burden, sheathed as he was in all his mail ! — with 
 Grillonne and others, were regaled with the savoury 
 messes whose odours had assailed them with such 
 enticing welcome through the kitchen door as they 
 entered, and, in sooth, they had a uicnu fit for a king. 
 
 Stewed and fried eel, pike and lampreys in pasties, 
 roast gossander, curlew, and snipe ! — fare fit for an 
 epicure, and by no means cavilled at by the hungry 
 men before whom it was served — add thereto good 
 cider and ale. 
 
 For this island in the meres was the home of in- 
 numerable waldfowl, and fish as many crowded the 
 waters around it. ' Wild swannes, gossaiiders, water- 
 crows, hemes, hernshaws, cranes, curlewes, mallard,
 
 ' O HIGH AMBITION LO WL Y LAID ! ' 205 
 
 teele, bytters, knotts, styntes, godwytts, widgeons, 
 smeaths, puffins, and many sorts of gulls ; eels, pike, 
 pickerel, perch, roach, barbel, lampreys, and sometimes 
 a royal-fish' (turbot or sturgeon?); so that, as the 
 chronicler relates of Hereward's refuge in the neigh- 
 bouring Isle of Ely, foemen might sit blockading the 
 place for seven years without ' making one hunter cease 
 to set his nets or one fowler to deceive the birds with 
 springe and snare.' 
 
 In this asylum we will leave the earl, and sec how it 
 fares with Blauncheflour.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 WIFE OR WIDOW? 
 
 The Castellan of Blauncheflour swept hastily from 
 the chamber where she had held council with the two 
 knights, doubting lest her power of self-control should 
 fail her, and that the desperate grief which was gnawing 
 at her heart should gain the upper hand, and mar the 
 stately boldness of mien which she saw affected them 
 not a little, by bringing the weak tears which are 
 accounted a woman's privilege. 
 
 She remembered bitterly that almost the last day 
 which she had spent with her dear lord had been 
 clouded for him by her weeping, and she felt as if by 
 maintaining firmness now she was carrying out his 
 wishes. 
 
 ' I vexed him with my tears,' she said to herself. ' Ah ! 
 now I will be the very hero's daughter he bade me to 
 be. I will be bolder than his mailed retainers. While 
 I can get one soldier to fight for me, one warder 
 to pace the walls, I will hold his castle ready to 
 receive him ! ' 
 
 By such brave words she tried to stifle the awful 
 
 206
 
 WIFE OR WIDOW f 207 
 
 terror that assailed her secret heart that the tidings of 
 Stephen le Hareau were indeed true. 
 
 Leaving the room hastily, she nearly fell over the 
 fair figure of Eadgyth, who was kneeling on the 
 threshold. 
 
 'Eadgyth! what dost thou here? Is this obeying 
 my behests ? I bade thee tend the wounded, from 
 whom other duties called me,' 
 
 ' Pardon, dear Emma ! I feared lest thou shouldst need 
 my service. I have not forgotten the day when I found 
 thee senseless in thy chamber ; and these news be so 
 dire,' 
 
 ' Faint heart ! ' cried Emma contemptuously, taking 
 refuge in indignation, ' Dost thou then credit the wild 
 stories of these runaways? How but by telling of slain 
 leader and ruined cause could they excuse their own 
 cowardice ? The cousin of Harold Godwinsson should 
 despise them for nodings I ' 
 
 Her eyes blazed with the light of fierce determination, 
 as she hissed out the word which in the ears of Saxon 
 or Dane was the most degrading that could be applied 
 to a warrior. 
 
 The mild-naturcd Eadgyth, whose courage was of 
 the moral order, and with whom fortitude and fidelity 
 were greater than high spirit, gazed wonderingh- at her 
 friend. She had seen Emma cry over a fawn the dogs 
 had lacerated, or over the dead body of a pet bird, when 
 her own eyes had been tearless, ant! tliis strange strength 
 of Emma's made her shiver, for she fully believed that 
 the carl was slain.
 
 2o8 WIFE OR WIDOW? 
 
 Emma looked in her startled face and laughed. 
 ' Tend them, bonnibell, and ease the pain of their 
 wounds ; but credit them not. Let my lord deal with 
 them when he comes back at the head of a victorious 
 army.' 
 
 Eadgyth, like the knights, thought that the countess 
 was going mad. Perhaps she was ; but her madness 
 saved the garrison. 
 
 Yet, to say truth, her high spirit quailed when she 
 re-entered the spital. The draggled, blood-stained, 
 dejected warriors who lay, and leaned, and stood 
 around, with every variety of wound to be dressed, 
 were no cheering sight. Nor, when she saw their 
 pale, stern faces, grave with defeat and haggard 
 from fatigue, did she stigmatise them in her 
 heart, as she had stigmatised them in words, as 
 cowards — nodings. Her woman's heart went out 
 in sympathy to the suffering humanity around her. 
 She did not pause to settle the question whether 
 they had fled prematurely or stood by their leader — 
 in whom was all her joy — to the last bitter gasp, 
 as brave men should. She dared not investigate too 
 closely, lest they should convince her that she had 
 wronged them, and so daunt the hope that was her 
 only comfort. 
 
 With tireless industry she busied herself in the 
 manual labour of the leech, in such crude forms as 
 the medical science of the day allowed. How rudi- 
 mentary they were may be guessed from the story 
 told us by old Robert of Gloucester, of the Duke
 
 IVJFE OR WJDOIV? 2og 
 
 of Austria in Coeur de Lion's time, some fifty years 
 later, a patient who doubtless had at his command 
 whatever skill the times afforded. The duke fell 
 from his palfrey and hurt his foot, which mortified, 
 and the doctors advised him that his only hope lay 
 in having it taken off. Nobody, however, could be 
 found bold enough to undertake the operation, and 
 the poor duke at last held a keen axe with his own 
 hands upon his ankle, and bade his chamberlain smite 
 upon it with all his strength, the foot being severed at 
 the third blow. 
 
 Such being the best surgical aid that a royal duke 
 could obtain, it may be imagined that little could be 
 done to ease the pangs of humbler men. 
 
 A stream of fugitives came straggling in before the 
 day was done, and, alas ! all told the same tale. They 
 were mostly Bretons or Normans, for the Saxons and 
 Anglo-Danes who had followed the earl sought refuge, 
 not in the Norman stronghold, but in the forest retreats 
 where their countrymen had already found shelter, and 
 in the fastnesses of wold and fen, which were familiar 
 to their steps. 
 
 The bride of a month before tended them with 
 feverish assiduity, refusing rest and food, dreading that 
 time for thought should force her to yield belief to the 
 tidings they all brought — that she was a widow. 
 
 When evening came. Sir Alain dc Gourin demanded 
 
 another audience, at which he appeared alone, averring 
 
 that Sir Hoel could not leave the direction of the 
 
 defence at the same time as himself 
 
 O
 
 2IO WIFE OR WIDOW .^ 
 
 He faced the countess doggedly, with a defiant gleam 
 in his bulging blue eyes which she did not find it 
 pleasant to meet. His cheeks were more purple than 
 ever, and it seemed to Emma that his red moustache 
 almost quivered with flame, while his brawny figure was 
 adorned with an unusual display of finery, the flashing 
 jewels on his baldric attracting her eyes even in that 
 moment of distress. 
 
 He urged that what had seemed a doubtful rumour 
 in the morning had become certain news by night, 
 since fugitive after fugitive had confirmed the tidings 
 first brought by Stephen le Hareau, and begged 
 her once more to think of her own safety, and allow 
 himself and his trusty Bretons to escort her to 
 Bretagne. 
 
 ' Is it but to repeat to mine ears the idle plaints of 
 these runaways that thou hast summoned me to solemn 
 conclave, good knight? My answer of the morning 
 stands.' 
 
 She broke into a laugh that was low and silvery 
 enough, but which caused even the thick-skinned 
 mercenary to shiver, and she would have swept from 
 the room, but, recovering himself, De Gourin stepped 
 forward, and, laying his mailed hand on her arm, detained 
 her. 
 
 ' By the Rood ! ' he exclaimed, ' thou shalt not go ! 
 Thou alone in all this castle dost refuse to believe the 
 inevitable. I tell thee, knights of my following, whose 
 word is sacred as my own, saw Ralph de Guader struck 
 down by the mace of Odo of Bayeux ; none could live
 
 WIFE OR WIDOW? 211 
 
 after such a blow, were his harness sevenfold thick ! 
 Besides, the press of battle was upon the spot where he 
 fell, and the feet of the horses must have achieved what 
 Odo began, if his mace completed it not.' 
 
 Eadgyth, who attended the countess, uttered a scream 
 of horror, and endeavoured to stop his speech. ' Wouldst 
 thou kill her? ' she cried. 
 
 Emma shook herself free from his grasp, and faced 
 him with flashing eyes of scorn. 
 
 ' By the mass, noble lady, pardon me ! I would have 
 spared thee these rude details, but perforce I must have 
 thee comprehend,' 
 
 'If the earl indeed be perished,' said Emma bitterly, 
 ' life will not be so sweet to me that I should take such 
 care to save it. Save thyself and thy Bretons if thou 
 wilt. If ye go, there will be less to man the walls, but 
 fewer mouths to feed.' 
 
 The last words were uttered with a careless contempt 
 that was absolutely sublime, and the blustering mercen- 
 ary no longer ventured to detain her. 
 
 * Certes, the donzellc is mad ! ' he asserted, with a 
 round oath, when she had left the chamber, for her 
 absolute refusal to leave Blaunchcflour had thrown to 
 the winds his plan for becoming her second husband, 
 and becoming lord of her fair manors. 
 
 Outside the chamber door Emma turned to her loving 
 bower-maiden like a creature of the woods at bay. 
 Eadgyth's sympathy was more dreadful to her than the 
 Breton's brutal frankness. ' I would be alone, Eadgyth. 
 I am going to the oratory,' she forced her white lips to
 
 212 WIFE OR WIDOW? 
 
 murmur, and almost fled from her side down the 
 circling stairway. 
 
 Eadgyth followed at a distance, and, when Emma had 
 disappeared within the sacred portal, threw herself 
 prostrate at the threshold, like a faithful hound, as she 
 had thrown herself at the door of the council-chamber 
 in the morning. 
 
 Emma, alone at last, knelt before the shrine of the 
 Virgin. She chose that rather than the one dedicated 
 to St. Nicholas, for it seemed to her in her anguish that 
 her husband's patron saint had forsaken his votaries in 
 their distress. 
 
 The grief she had so long held at bay shook her from 
 head to foot with a long quivering sob that held her 
 speechless, and almost stopped her breath. She stretched 
 out her arms in mute supplication to Heaven. Scalding 
 tears formed slowly in her eyes, and rolled one by one 
 down her bloodless cheeks. 
 
 Then a fresh gust of agony shook her like a leaf. 
 ' Ah, Dieii merci ! ' she moaned ; ' the horses ! the horses ! 
 They achieved if Odo failed, he said ! Oh, Christ ! it 
 cannot be I That dear head that has pillowed on my 
 bosom ! ' 
 
 Quivering and shuddering, she sank upon the cold 
 flags of the floor. The grey light of morning creeping 
 through the narrow oriel found her still there. 
 
 ' Oh, countess ! sweet countess ! one waits without 
 who will not deliver his message to any but thee, and 
 /le bears the earl's signet ! '
 
 WIFE OR WIDOW? 213 
 
 Eadgyth was in the oratory, bending over the 
 stiffened form of the unhappy Chatelaine of Blaunche- 
 flour. 
 
 Emma passed her hands across her brow in blank 
 bewilderment, and Eadgyth cried to her again. 
 
 * Oh, Heaven be praised 1' cried Emma, a great light 
 of joy springing into her eyes ; and, rising from her 
 knees, 'Where is he? where is he?' she asked. 'Take 
 me to him without delay. What manner of man is this 
 whose advent doth so raise my hopes ? The earl's 
 signet, sayest thou ? ' 
 
 ' He wears a Danish helm, and looks as if he had 
 travelled over land and through water,' said Eadgyth. 
 ' Our Lady and good St. Nicholas grant that our hopes 
 be well founded ! ' 
 
 ' Eetch me my golden tore, which was my wedding 
 gift from the false Waltheof,' said Emma ; ' I will 
 meet this Dane as one who knows somewhat of his 
 race.' 
 
 She went to her chamber to wash away the signs 
 of her night's vigil from her cheeks, and, when her 
 hasty toilette was made, ICadgyth saw with sur- 
 prise the change in her : hope had brought back 
 the bloom to her cheek and the clasticit}' to her 
 step, and she looked well fit to be the bride of 
 one who aspired to the third of a kingdom for his 
 earldom. 
 
 She swept from the lodge to the great tower, and 
 entered the council-chamber, where Sir Hocl and Sir 
 Alain awaited her, curious enough to know the contents
 
 214 WIFE OR IVWOIV? 
 
 of the missive guarded by the fair-haired, long-Hmbed 
 Dane with such jealous care, Sir Alain eyeing him 
 as he stood before them with no very gracious 
 countenance. 
 
 When Emma came into the room, the Dane 
 saluted her profoundly, his tow-coloured locks almost 
 touching his knee, and his formidable double-edged 
 axe rattling on the floor as he bent ; then he put 
 into the hands of the countess a packet tied with a 
 slender silken cord. 
 
 Emma started with joy, for her quick eyes noted the 
 many joins in that silken cord, and recognised it as 
 composed of the fringe with which Ralph's surcoat had 
 been decked. 
 
 The Dane then drew from his finger a ring, and 
 handed it to her, and, truly enough, it was De Guader's 
 signet. 
 
 Emma's fingers trembled so violently that she could 
 scarce read the superscripture, endorsed with a clerkly 
 scroll, — 
 
 ' To the fair hands of Emma de Guader, 
 
 Castellan of our Castell of Blauncheflour in 
 Norowic' 
 
 She drew the little viisericorde at her girdle and severed 
 the silk. 
 
 'Bid the chaplain hither,' she said, for in truth she 
 had little learning, and her literary attainments did not 
 extend far beyond the reading of her own name ; not- 
 withstanding which, her eyes questioned eagerly the
 
 U7FE OR U'WOIV? 215 
 
 fairly illumined page before her, which was the work of 
 the monk who has been mentioned as sitting by the 
 hearth of Ealdred Godwinsson in his Fenland refuge, for 
 the earl's clerkly skill was little greater than that of his 
 wife. 
 
 Impatiently she awaited the coming of the chaplain, 
 and, when he came, thrust the cherished parchment into 
 his hand, and followed his reading, word by word, with 
 hungry avidity. 
 
 * Fair and dear Lady and Countess,' said the missive, 
 ' ill news has thy unfortunate knight wherewith to vex 
 thine heart. The battle went against mc. By little 
 less than a miracle was my life, dear for thy sweet sake, 
 preserved to me. A long story which some day I yet 
 hope to relate to thee. I am sore wounded, but not 
 dangerously ' — 
 
 'The holy saints be praised!' ejaculated Sir Hoel 
 fervently. 
 
 'Ay! — the holy saints be praised,' echoed Sir Alain, 
 with somewhat halting zeal, for this resuscitated earl 
 put an end to all his schemes. 
 
 'Therefore,' resumed the chaplain, continuing his 
 reading, 'vex not thyself with fears. But for my 
 wounds only, 1 had been with thee by now, but could 
 not mount steed or liacqiieiiee. The messenger will 
 tell thee my retreat, and the plan by which I }'ct hope 
 to prevail, and to win fame for thee. Defend my Castell 
 of Blauncheflour, sweet my Castellan, and, by the aid 
 of good St. Nicholas, I will come back to thee at the 
 head of such an host as will put all our foes to rout. I
 
 2i6 WIFE OR WIDOW? 
 
 count the daies till I see thee again. The Blessed 
 Virgin have thee in her keeping. 
 
 ' These from thy leal and loving husband, 
 
 ' Ralph de Guader and Montfort, 
 ' Earl of Norfolk and Suffolk.' 
 
 The missive was signed by the earl's own hand, and 
 sealed with his wedding ring, on which was graven the 
 cognisance of Hereford. 
 
 'Ah, fair sirs,' cried Emma exultingly, looking, how- 
 ever, at Sir Alain, and with contemptuous defiance in 
 her flashing eyes, 'ye see the instinct of the true wife 
 was more trustworthy than the eye-witness of belted 
 knights ! Let us charitably suppose that their poor 
 heads were somewhat flustered with the hurly-burly of 
 battle. Methinks they were over quick to believe their 
 leader slain.' 
 
 Then, turning to the messenger, she questioned him 
 regarding the battle and the retreat, and the manner 
 of the earl's escape ; and heard the story we already 
 know of Grillonne's ready wit, and the refuge in the 
 fens. 
 
 The Dane was one of those who had helped to carry 
 the wounded earl, and had been chosen as a messenger 
 because he was trustworthy, renowned as a swift runner, 
 and could carry messages of importance to such Danish 
 seamen as might be with their vessels at Norwich for 
 trading purposes, besides his message to the countess. 
 Dependence had not been placed on him alone ; other 
 messengers had been despatched from the Fenland camp.
 
 IVIFE OR IVJDOli'? 217 
 
 in case he fell into the hands of the enemy, but he had 
 outstripped his competitors. 
 
 He said that the earl had desired to return to Norwich, 
 but had been overpersuaded by those about him that it 
 would be a wiser course to take ship at Wells by the 
 sea, which he could do privily by aid of Ealdred 
 Godwinsson, and those over whom the thegn had 
 influence. So it was agreed that the earl should make 
 sail for Denmark, where, without doubt, he would be 
 nobly welcomed by King Swcyn, who had already 
 promised him men and vessels. From thence he would 
 go with all speed to Bretagne, and arm his retainers, 
 and gather all help he might among the Breton nobles ; 
 and with the host thus gathered would haste to the 
 relief of Blauncheflour, which would thus be rendered 
 sure and certain. 
 
 The countess listened with kindling eyes and glowing 
 cheeks. 
 
 * A device worthy of a hero ! ' she exclaimed. ' Let 
 the garrison be summoned to the courtyard of the 
 castle, and I will tell them these brave news. I would 
 they should receive them from mine own lips. See 
 also that this worthy messenger enjoys all hospitality 
 the castle may afford.' 
 
 She unfastened a golden collar from her neck, and 
 added it to the many bracelets which already glittered 
 upon the Dane's muscular arms. 
 
 The warrior thanked her earnestl}', witli the frank 
 reverence which characterised the wild sea-kings in their 
 behaviour to women.
 
 2i8 WIFE OR WIDOW? 
 
 Half-an-hour later, the countess, arrayed in her richest 
 robes, with steel -cap on her head, and her gorget 
 glistening in the morning sun as it rose and fell with 
 the swift heaving of her bosom, stood at the great east 
 portal, with the Danish messenger at her side, and 
 looked down upon the eager faces of the hastily 
 assembled garrison. 
 
 A rumour had gone forth that the earl had escaped, 
 and would yet return in triumph, and a glow of excite- 
 ment lighted every eye. As Emma saw the stalwart 
 forms and the strong determined countenances before 
 her, a thrill of pride swelled her heart at the thought 
 that her warrior husband should have given her command 
 over them. The spirit of William Fitzosbern lived 
 again in the breast of his daughter. ' I will be worthy 
 of the honour that Ralph's choice bestowed on me,' she 
 thought. 'If aught a woman can say or do may 
 inspire men to gallant deeds, these men shall not fail 
 their lord.' 
 
 Emotion brought high words to her lips and fire to 
 her eyes. Her heart verily shouted with delight for the 
 joyful message which she had to deliver. ' Brave knights 
 and soldiers ! ' she cried, and her voice rang through the 
 fresh morning air like the clang of a silver trumpet, 
 'glad news have I for loyal ears. Earl Ralph yet lives! 
 See, this missive is signed by his own noble hand ! 
 His signet blazes on my finger!' 
 
 She held the scroll aloft in her hands, and the sun- 
 shine flashed on the ring. 
 
 ' A Guader ! a Guader ! ' shouted the assembled host ;
 
 WIFE OR WIDOW? 219 
 
 and arms were raised and weapons clashed, while some 
 three hundred stout throats echoed the shout, ' St. 
 Nicholas for Guader ! ' 
 
 'Yesterday your countess and her counsellors were 
 sore distressed,' Emma went on ; 'for, as ye know, the 
 unfortunate squire, Stephen Ic Hareau, and those who 
 followed him, believed that the earl was slain ; but we 
 would not vex ye with our grief till doubt was changed 
 into certainty. Doubt is changed into certainty ; — but a 
 certainty of life, not death ! ' 
 
 A roar of cheers rent the air again. 
 
 ' Yes, your lord lives ! ' cried Emma. 'His first field 
 is lost, but it will not be his last ! He is wounded, 
 sorely, but not dangerously. See ! so the letter says ! 
 His way is open to Denmark. This gallant Dane has 
 borne his message across field and over flood, faith- 
 fully, as he helped to carry the earl himself from the 
 battlefield.' 
 
 She turned to the messenger beside her, who clashed 
 his great axe upon his round wooden shield, w ith its 
 strange embossing of iron nails, and shouted ' Waes 
 hael ! ' 
 
 Then Emma told again the story of the earl's rescue, 
 though she did not reveal his hiding-place, lest there 
 should be traitors in the camp, and how he intended to 
 take ship for Denmark to ask aid of King Sweyn, ' wlio,' 
 she said, 'has already promised it. Then the carl will 
 seek his own fair lands in Bretagne, and he will call his 
 vassals to his standard, and come across the sea at the 
 head of a great host to relieve his faithful garrison in
 
 220 WIFE OR WIDOW? 
 
 Blauncheflour. Is any man so mean of heart that he 
 will not vow to good St. Nicholas to do his best to 
 keep the castle to that hour? If so, let him declare 
 himself a noding, and quit the company of gallant 
 men ! ' 
 
 ' Not one ! Not one ! ' rang round the castle yard, 
 and echoed back from the high stone tower of the keep, 
 reverberating in tumultuous thunder from base to 
 summit. 
 
 Then old Sir Hoel de St. Brice took off his plumed 
 barret, and waved it in the air, where he stood 
 behind his lady, his eyes humid and his lips quivering, 
 as he echoed, * Not one ! ' 
 
 Sir Alain de Gourin, listening with a strange expres- 
 sion of satirical disdain on his florid countenance, rattled 
 his sword from its sheath and waved it in the air, 
 where he stood behind his lady, and shouted with a 
 lusty voice, ' Not one ! ' 
 
 ' I thank ye, friends!' cried the countess. 'To your 
 strong arms and your loyal hearts I commit my 
 fate and that of my lord. St. Nicholas give ye 
 fortitude ! ' 
 
 Turning to a page who stood beside her with a silver 
 tray, she took a velvet purse from it, and scattered broad 
 pieces amongst the soldiery. 
 
 ' A largesse ! a largesse ! ' they cried ; and all was joy 
 and hilarity. 
 
 ' Ye shall taste a vintage better than ever grew even 
 in the vineyards of Hereford or Kent,' cried the countess ; 
 and she gave orders to the steward to broach a cask of
 
 WIFE OR WIDOW? 221 
 
 French wine which had been amongst her brother's gifts 
 at the bride-ale ; an order which called forth a fresh 
 burst of applause. 
 
 ' Drink it/ cried Emma, ' to the safe return of your 
 lord ! '
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HOW RALPH CAME HOME. 
 
 ' Sweet nuncle, methinks some of thy wits adhered 
 to my cap, and that, when I put the same upon thy 
 noble skull, they found an entrance into it by that 
 crack the worshipful bishop's mace rove therein, else 
 thou hadst never assayed this mad journey ! Why, 
 thou hast scarce taken a step without giving a 
 groan.' 
 
 ' Have I been so weak, Grillonne ? ' Earl Ralph asked, 
 a faint smile brightening his pale, worn face. 
 
 He was on horseback, but rode at a foot's pace, and 
 bent over the neck of his Jiacquence like an aged and 
 decrepit man. He was dressed in a loose flowing 
 Saxon blouse, and had not a link of mail on his person 
 from top to toe. On his left rode Grillonne, who strove 
 to cheer him with loving banter ; on his right the young 
 Anglo-Dane, Leofric Ealdredsson, the son of his late 
 host in the Fenland refuge ; a little behind came a small 
 band of men-at-arms, a squire leading Ralph's Spanish 
 destrier, and a mule bearing the earl's harness, making 
 some score in all. 
 
 222
 
 HO IV RALPH CAME HOME. 223 
 
 ' In good sooth,' continued the earl, ' it hath not 
 seemed to me that my path was strewn with rose-leaves, 
 but only with the thorns stripped bare of flowers. Yet 
 would I go through it seven times over to see my lady's 
 face again.' 
 
 ' Well-a-day, nuncle ! and a pretty galliard thou art, 
 forsooth, to figure before a gracious dame, with thy hollow 
 cheeks and thy hawk's eyes glaring out of caverns deep 
 eno' for pixies to bide in,' replied the privileged jester. 
 ' Cogs bones ! thou hadst done better to go to Den- 
 mark first as thou didst intend, there to have picked 
 up a few stout followers and a little flesh to cover thy 
 worn framework withal. The women ever love the signs 
 of power.' 
 
 A jealous pang flushed the earl's gaunt face with a 
 faint hue of red. What if the fool spoke truth, and 
 Emma should turn from him in his defeat, and embitter 
 his humiliation by fresh reproaches? She had sent him 
 forth with a doubting heart, scarce wishing him success, 
 in that he fought against her kinsman and suzerain, 
 William of Normandy. All his feudal pomp and glory, 
 at the head of the eager army he then led to battle, had 
 failed to move the bosom of the daughter of William 
 Fitzosbern, who, young as she was, had seen many a fair 
 host go forth with streaming pennons and noisy clarions. 
 How, then, would she greet the weary, wounded wight 
 who crept back to his castle like a thief in the night, with 
 a poor remnant of faithful followers in little better plight 
 than himself? 
 
 Truth is seldom palatable to men in high places,
 
 224 I/O IV RALPH CAME HOME. 
 
 and the jester's light words had struck home too 
 surely. 
 
 ' Thou presumest, Sir Fool ! ' quoth the earl sharply. 
 ' Thine office doth not establish thee a critic of mine 
 actions ! ' 
 
 'Mercy, sweet nuncle! I cry you mercy! A fool's 
 words count for nothing ! ' cried Grillonne, looking into 
 his lord's face with so much love in his clear, keen eyes, 
 that De Guader instantly forgave him. 
 
 ' Thou art the best friend I have, Grillonne ! ' he said 
 impulsively. 
 
 ' Nay, there thou dost wrong to a thousand stout 
 hearts, good my lord ! ' answered the jester, ' noble 
 Leofric there amongst the number. But see, thy toils 
 are well-nigh ended. Yonder rise the white walls of 
 Norwich Castle.' 
 
 ' St. Nicholas be praised !' exclaimed the earl fervently. 
 * Right glad shall I be to shelter my aching head within 
 the towers. The next bosquet shall serve me for 
 tiring-room. I will show myself in harness as befits a 
 knight' 
 
 Some two hours later, the warders at the great gate of 
 Castle Blauncheflour saw a small troop of horsemen 
 approaching the portal at a foot-pace, amongst them a 
 knight in mail, but without cognisance, or surcoat, or 
 shield, his countenance covered by his large round 
 helmet, and, riding beside him, a motley-coated jester, 
 whose well-known visage caused a thrill of excitement 
 amongst the guards, greater than the general appearance 
 of the group ; for many a similar one had demanded
 
 HO W RA LPH CA ME HOME. iit^ 
 
 and received admittance within the castle during the 
 preceding days, since Stephen le Hareau had pioneered 
 the fugitives. 
 
 This party had little difficulty in gaining entrance, for 
 the faces of the men-at-arms composing it were all 
 more or less familiar to the warders ; and, after a short 
 parley, the portcullis was raised and the drawbridge 
 lowered to admit of their passage into the courtyard of 
 the castle. 
 
 The news that the earl's jester had returned spread 
 like wildfire through the garrison, with the mysterious 
 celerity that sometimes makes it seem as if intelligence 
 was circulated by magic. 
 
 13cfore the new-comers had dismounted from their 
 horses, the countess, who was passing from the chapel to 
 the spital, heard the rumour, and came forth into the 
 courtyard to ascertain if it indeed were true. 
 
 Sir Alain de Gourin, who had been overlooking some 
 target practice amongst the archers in the tilt-yard, came 
 also to receive and examine the fugitives. 
 
 Seeing the countess and the ladies who had followed 
 her, glad that duty gave them the opportunity to satisfy 
 their own curiosity, he louted low, and took his place 
 beside them. 
 
 Archers and soldiers of various arms from the guard- 
 room, servants and others, had swarmed from all quarters, 
 and the courtyard was well-nigh full of animated faces. 
 
 One new-comer after another was recognised, and. so 
 to speak, ' passed ' by De Gourin, and it came to the turn 
 of the hclmeted knight to declare himself — most of the
 
 226 HOW RALPH CAME HOME. 
 
 Others wore round steel-caps with a nasal, which left the 
 features visible. 
 
 He doffed his steel headpiece silently, and looked 
 around upon the throng. The gaunt, pale face woke 
 no instant response from the many onlookers, but the 
 countess sprang forward with outstretched arms to his 
 saddle-bow. 
 
 ' My lord ! ' she cried. ' Soldiers ! do you not know 
 your earl ? ' 
 
 ' A Guader ! a Guader ! ' 
 
 The cry resounded in the court with vigour even sur- 
 passing that of a few days before, when their Castellan's 
 eloquence had moved them so deeply. 
 
 Ralph de Guader caught his wife's outstretched arms 
 in his own, and looked down into the fair face he had 
 feared never to see again ; and then — not the gentle 
 lady, but the mailed warrior swooned. 
 
 Worn out with the terrible fatigues he had undergone, 
 while yet unhealed of his wounds, the earl reeled in his 
 saddle, and would have fallen, if the tender arms of his 
 wife had not caught him in their clasp. 
 
 His head sank on Emma's shoulder. The fiery Oliver 
 turned his intelligent head and caressed her arm softly 
 with his velvet nose, but stood without moving a limb, 
 gazing at her with his full, bright eyes. He seemed to 
 understand. Had he moved, the countess would have 
 fared ill. 
 
 Emma was quickly eased of her beloved burden by 
 the retainers around, and the insensible earl was borne 
 within the sheltering walls of the keep, and laid upon his
 
 HOIV RALPH CAME HOME. 227 
 
 own broidered, carved oak bed, in his own spacious and 
 luxurious room. 
 
 Ah ! how Emma wept and prayed and joyed over 
 him, and laughed lowly for delight that in very truth 
 she had her warrior once more. 
 
 How she burnt sweet essences, and bathed his lips 
 with perfumed waters, and shuddered at the print of 
 Odo's mace that still marked his brow with a black and 
 sullen scar. 
 
 Ralph, opening his steel-grey eyes upon that eager 
 face, lost all fear lest his gauntness and humiliation and 
 defeat should lessen wifely love. 
 
 ' Sweetheart ! ' he sighed. ' Sweetheart ! God be 
 praised that I see thee again ! ' The memory of his 
 desolation on the battlefield came over him with resist- 
 less force. His breast heaved with a mighty sob as he 
 took his wife's hands again in his own and pressed them 
 to his lips. 
 
 They brought me news of thy death, Ralph. ]^ut I 
 knew better,' whispered Emma, as she bent over him, 
 her quick tears falling on his face. ' 1 knew better ! 
 Thou couldst not have died but I had known it. My 
 heart had been rent in twain.' 
 
 Then Ralph told her the history of his struggle, and 
 of the long dreadful hours when he lay 'twixt life and 
 death upon the field ; and how Grillonne had schemed 
 and saved him ; and of the refuge in the Eens. A 
 murmured story, told in a voice faint and weak with 
 suffering, and received with many an ejaculation of 
 sympathy and love.
 
 228 HOW RALPH CAME HOME. 
 
 ' I had planned to steal away privily by Wells on the 
 sea, and there take ship for Denmark,' De Guader said. 
 ' But, sweetheart, the thought of thee was to me as the 
 thought of water to the pilgrim in the desert. Thee I 
 must see, or perish for longing. And I see thee.' He 
 drew her to him and feasted his eyes on her face, 
 
 ' And for that thou didst confront danger and difficulty 
 and the pain of thy sore wounds?' said Emma proudly. 
 
 ' In sooth the wounds were sore, but of danger there 
 was little,' answered the earl. Then he sprang up from 
 the couch into a sitting posture with a suddenness that 
 startled his gentle leech. 'They deem me crushed,' he 
 said. ' So flushed are they by their victory that they 
 are careless to pursue it further. I found no trace of 
 their troops as I dragged wearily to Norwich. They 
 have gone west, I deem it, to deal with thy brother.' 
 
 ' Alas, my poor Roger ! I would we had news of him,' 
 said the countess, her face drawn with pain. De Guader 
 caught the change in her face with jealous quickness. 
 The old haunting fear came back lest she should scorn 
 the broken man. 
 
 * Emma, my defeat is dire ! Dost thou credit how I 
 have come back to thee, — hiding behind bush and 
 briar, beaten, poverty-stricken, all but alone? I, who 
 left thee at the head of a noble army, now scattered like 
 chaff before the winds ! Dost thou not spurn me? ' 
 
 The daughter of William Fitzosbern looked in the 
 face of the man she had chosen for richer, for poorer, 
 for better, for worse. 
 
 ' My knight,' she said, ' hadst thou come maimed of
 
 HO IV RALPH CAME HOME. 229 
 
 a hand and foot, with thy visage marred for ever and a 
 day by the cruel daggers of thy foes, as hath happened 
 to thy favourite squire, Stephen le Hareau, I had but 
 loved thee the better.' 
 
 * By the Holy Rood ! has Stephen le Hareau been 
 so foully entreated ? ' 
 
 'Alack, yes! Moreover, he bore a message from 
 the king's men, that every prisoner, of whatever rank 
 and whatever nation, they might take in this struggle, 
 should lose his right foot.' 
 
 The earl raised himself from the couch and smote his 
 knee with his balled fist. 
 
 ' By the bones of St. Nicholas, I will avenge them ! 
 I will yet prevail.' He turned to Emma, fiercely seizing 
 her hands again in his, this time with no very tender 
 grip. ' Hast thou courage ? Wilt thou help me now 
 in my sore need, or is thine heart half with William ? 
 Say me sooth ! ' 
 
 ' It is with thee ! — all with thee ! ' 
 
 'God bless thee for that answer!' He passed his 
 hand across his eyes, and then held his brow as if in 
 pain. ' That accursed shaveling's mace ! Sith he cracked 
 my poor head with it, whenever I tr)- to think I get a 
 pang instead of a notion.' 
 
 ' Strive not to think, mine own. Rest awhile. Where 
 shouldst thou rest if not here in thine home, or when, if 
 not after dire fatigue ? ' 
 
 ' No, Emma ! no rest for me till I have retrieved 
 mine honour! Stephen Ic Hareau, thou saidest? He 
 fought like a I'aladin beside me. The smartest squire
 
 230 HOW RALPH CAME HOME. 
 
 in my following, and the best born. I so loved the lad 
 that I would have had him squire to mine own body, 
 but that Sir Guy de Landerneau was as a father to him, 
 and had formed him in all fitting a man-at-arms. Sir 
 Guy dead too ! Yet death is but the soldier's portion, 
 it irks me not. 'Tis that the fiends should mutilate one 
 of Le Hareau's gentle blood. It beggars credence ! 
 Their own leader is of such proud lineage. Ha, ha ! ' 
 
 Emma had moved softly to his side, and had enlaced 
 her slender fingers round his mailed arm, striving to 
 soothe him with mute sympathy. 
 
 ' Seest thou not the menace in the insult, Emma?' 
 They spare not rank. Had I been taken, my fate had 
 been even as Le Hareau's.' 
 
 Emma shuddered, recalling Le Hareau's awful face as 
 she had seen it on the day of his return, ' It bears not 
 to think of,' she said. 
 
 ' Sweet, I must go forth ! I must seek Sweyn 
 Ulfsson of Denmark in mine own person ; he dallies with 
 my messengers. I must go to him and demand fulfil- 
 ment of his pledges. I must go to Wader and Montfort 
 and assemble my vassalage. Hast thou courage to 
 hold Blauncheflour till my return ? ' 
 
 ' I have courage for aught that profits thee.' 
 
 Ralph gazed in her face, his eyes aHame with joyous 
 pride. He took her fair cheeks between his palms, and 
 bent down and kissed her brow and lips. 
 
 ' Methinks there is but little risk, my Falcon ! ' he 
 said. ' They cannot turn from west to east, as the sun 
 does, in a night. That gives me_time. They will scarce
 
 HO IV RALPH CAME HOME. 231 
 
 attempt Blaunchcflour and I not in it. If they do, it is 
 impregnable. Ere six weeks I shall relieve thee with a 
 fair force at my back.' 
 
 Emrna looked wistfully in his eyes. Her heart ached 
 at the thought of losing him again. 
 
 'Courage, m'amie ! ' he said, mistaking the cause of 
 her hesitation. 
 
 ' My courage fails not, Ralph,' she answered. ' I had 
 held thy castle while a man would obey my orders and 
 stand to the walls, even hadst thou been dead, as they 
 tried to make me believe. How then should I quail to 
 hold it for thee living ? I do but mourn that we must 
 part again.' 
 
 And again Ralph took her face between his palms 
 and kissed it. 
 
 • • • • • • • 
 
 Meanwhile Lanfranc, the Primate, sat writing in his 
 closet ; a satisfied smile hovered round the corners of 
 his mobile lips and lighted up the depths of his gleam- 
 ing Southern eyes. A monk stood waiting to receive 
 the letter. 
 
 It ran thus : — 
 
 'To his lord, William, King of the English, his faithful 
 Lanfranc sends his faithful service and faithful prayers. 
 Gladly would we see you, as an angel of Gcxl, but we 
 are unwilling that you should take the trouble of cross- 
 ing the sea at this particular juncture. For if j-ou were 
 to come to i)ut down these traitors and robbers, you 
 would do us dishonour. Rodulph the Count, or rather 
 the traitor, and his whole army have been routed, and
 
 232 HOW RALPH CAME HOME. 
 
 ours, with a great body of Normans and Saxons, are in 
 pursuit. Our leaders inform me that in a few days they 
 will drive these perjured wretches into the sea, or capture 
 them dead or alive. The details I send you by this 
 monk, who may be trusted, as he has done fealty to me. 
 May God Almighty bless you.' ^ 
 
 The details which Lanfranc's messenger had to give 
 of the defeat of the Earl of East Anglia, or, as the 
 prelate styled him, Rodulph the Count, we already 
 know. 
 
 Turning to the monk, the archbishop said, ' Regard- 
 ing the base uprising favoured and headed by our lord- 
 king's cousin, Roger, Earl of Hereford, the tidings are 
 of like good savour. Inform our liege that the English 
 prelates. Bishop Wulfstan and Abbot ^thelwig, in union 
 with Urse, Sheriff of Worcestershire, have hindered the 
 traitor from passing the Severn, and have taken the earl 
 himself prisoner, whereon we pray our liege heartily to 
 make known his wishes how we may best dispose of this 
 haught prisoner. 
 
 ' Forget not to repeat likewise the stratagem by which 
 the Count Rodulph's men deceived us, so that we made 
 not his body secure, and know not certainly if he be 
 dead or alive.' 
 
 ' I will forget no detail, good my lord Archbishop,' 
 replied the messenger ; and Lanfranc folded his letter, 
 and fastened it with a silken cord, and sealed it with his 
 official seal. 
 
 ^ Lanfranc, 0pp. i. 56, translated by Hook, Lives of the Archbishops 
 of Cantcrl'iiry, vol. ii. p. 136.
 
 //OW RALPH CAME HOME. 233 
 
 ' Naught could be more satisfactory,' he murmured to 
 himself, as he was performing these small offices, 'than 
 the manner in which the Saxons have ranged themselves, 
 in this matter, upon our liege's side. It was a bold 
 stroke on the part of the Lady Judith to warn us of her 
 husband's schemes, and to risk his rage and his danger. 
 Sooth, it had been a dire struggle if the doughty son of 
 Siward had taken his part, as the plotters did well 
 intend. A turmoil raised for the sake of one woman, 
 and foiled by another ! Thanks to thee, Judith, the 
 day is ours ! ' 
 
 But not to be ended quite so speedily as the sanguine 
 Primate supposed. A woman was to hold his best troops 
 at bay for a space of three long months, and then to 
 make terms quite other than a choice between imprison- 
 ment or the bottom of the sea. 
 
 The race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to 
 the strong !
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 BESIEGED. 
 
 ' Methinks, Emma, my foes will say that Ralph de 
 Guader was a recreant knight, who fled from his devoir 
 and left his lady to fight for him ! Beshrew me, but it 
 mislikes me to leave thee ! ' 
 
 So quoth the carl, when, after a few days of rest and 
 rehabilitation at Blauncheflour, he was making ready 
 to go on board a Danish galley, which lay moored at 
 Lovelly's Staithe, her brightly coloured sails flapping 
 idly in the summer wind ; the heads of the oarsmen, 
 with their long light hair and long light moustaches, 
 showing in even ranks along her bulwarks, and her high 
 dragon-carved prow gleaming in the sun. 
 
 Emma, upright and determined, with the keys of the 
 castle at her girdle, and wearing her steel-cap and mail 
 gorget, forced back the tears that sprang to her eyes, 
 and turned proudly to the warrior beside her, who, 
 dressed in complete mail, with his long cross-handled 
 sword suspended from a jewelled baldric, looked the 
 perfect figure of a hero. 
 
 ' Nay, my Ralph ! whatever hard things they may 
 say of thee, they will never be so mad as to accuse thee 
 
 234
 
 BESIEGED. 235 
 
 of aught that savours of cowardice. Thy valour has 
 been too well proven on many a well-fought field ! Did 
 not William see thee fight at Hastings, and give thee 
 thine earldom for thy prowess? Didst thou not defend 
 his conquest from the Danish invaders, and win fresh 
 honours and lands ? Who could withstand thee in the 
 tourney ? Oh, it is preposterous ! Rebel they may call 
 thee, recreant never ! ' 
 
 Ralph de Guader, however, gauged the justice of 
 the makers of history better than his warm - hearted 
 countess.^ 
 
 He looked at the waiting galley with a sigh, wonder- 
 ing if he should ever again be lord in his English 
 earldom. 
 
 He had not been idle during his short stay in his 
 capital. \\' ithout waiting for liis wounds to heal, he liad 
 been up and doing as soon as a few days of rest had 
 made it possible. He had summoned his local sup- 
 porters, who — if we may judge from the number of 
 estates entered in Domesday as ' Wasta ' later on — were 
 numerous, to more than one council, and had done much 
 to restore their confidence in his arms and ihcir belief 
 in his ultimate success. 
 
 His own heart had grown lighter as he went the round 
 of his magnificent new castle, which William had nuiiii- 
 tioned with every improvement then known, and truly 
 it seemed well-nigh impregnable, with its high towers 
 and battlemented walls, and deep, sullen moats. 
 
 Preparations for the siege had been going merrily 
 
 ' See Appendix, Note D.
 
 236 BESIEGED. 
 
 forward. Fat beeves were driven up from the meadows ; 
 the bleating of sheep mingled strangely with the 
 clangor of arms, and the large herds of swine so 
 dear to Saxon housekeeping contributed their quota of 
 victims, while not a little fun was caused among the 
 laughter-loving soldiery by the exciting difficulties of 
 persuading the squeaking porkers to cross the draw- 
 bridge, and many were the tussles and, in some cases, 
 dire the misfortunes incurred in the sport. 
 
 Barrels of salt meat and flour and ale were rolled up 
 the ballium by the stalwart arms of the bows and bills; 
 arms destined, alas ! to be but bare skin and bone when 
 they should issue again from the walls of the fortress. 
 
 All was bustle and plenty. Sinews of war of every 
 kind were there in superfluity. 
 
 De Guader saw clearly that to shut himself up in the 
 castle was to make himself helpless ; but that to leave 
 its defence to his vassals, and go forth to collect reinforce- 
 ments in Denmark and Bretagne, and take the besiegers 
 in rear, was a plan that promised all success ; and every 
 man among his counsellors agreed with him. 
 
 Yet it was hard to leave the fair bride for whom he 
 had risked so much, and whose noble sympathy in his 
 misfortunes had endeared her to him a thousandfold. 
 
 No wonder that his heart failed him at the last, when 
 the moment for parting had arrived, and the time and 
 tide that wait for no man were ripe for departure. 
 
 ' It mislikes me to leave thee ! ' he said. 
 
 ' Sweet my lord, " he that putteth his hand to the 
 plough must not look back," ' said Emma, meeting his
 
 BESIEGED. 237 
 
 wistful eyes firmly. 'An thou standest quavering for 
 my poor sake, while yon oarsmen are broiling on their 
 benches, I myself shall accuse thee for a recreant ! Dost 
 doubt the courage of thy Castellan ? ' 
 
 ' No, by St. Nicholas ! Thou art the true daughter of 
 a noble sire ! ' said the earl. A group of knights, Saxon, 
 Breton, and Norman, stood around him, some half-dozen 
 in readiness to accompany him, while the rest were 
 gathered from the neighbourhood, or formed part of the 
 garrison ; amongst these last, Sir Alain and Sir Hoel 
 and Leofric Ealdredsson were conspicuous. 
 
 The earl turned to them : ' Obey your lady loyally, 
 guard her zealously ; and may the saints have mercy on 
 the man who is untrue to his trust ! ' he cried, ' for I 
 will have none.' 
 
 *Thy threat touches no man here, good my lord,' 
 blustered Do Gourin, ' I will warrant every soul in the 
 garrison ready to die for that trust.' 
 
 * Ay, ay ! ' cried the rest ; but a strange quiver of 
 doubt ran through the bosom of the valorous Castellan, 
 as to whether one man there was honest and leal, and 
 the man she doubted was the Breton protester. 
 
 Then the earl mounted and rode down to the waiting 
 galley ; and soon the long oars were sweeping rhythmic- 
 ally through the blue water and shedding simultaneous 
 showers of pearly drops from their glittering blades ; the 
 gay sails swelled fairly in the breeze, so that the dragon- 
 prow moved swiftly down the shining reaches of the 
 Yare. 
 
 But Emma did not watch it ; she had slipped away to
 
 238 BESIEGED. 
 
 the oratory, and knelt before the altar in speechless but 
 passionate prayer, while the tears she had repressed so 
 long chased each other down her cheeks. 
 
 A terrible fear was gnawing at her heart, that her 
 husband had but left her to die in that wild Denmark, 
 amongst the rough Norsemen, for she knew how sore 
 and desperate were his unhealed wounds, and by what 
 effort his high spirit forced his body into action. 
 
 She had steeled herself to serve him as he wished to 
 be served, but it had been liefer to her woman's heart to 
 tend and leech him into perfect health, than to command 
 and urge his vassals to hurt others as sorely. 
 
 Meanwhile the king's forces were not so far away as 
 Ralph supposed. 
 
 On the eve of the third day after the earl's embarka- 
 tion, the warders on the battlements of Blauncheflour 
 heard afar off the thunderous tramp of steeds and the 
 jingle and clang of harness and arms, and, as the sun 
 sank in a splendour of golden clouds, his last rays gilded 
 the hastily pitched pavilions of Bishop Geoffrey of 
 Coutances, Earl William of Warrenne, and Robert 
 Malet, who led the investing army to the attack. 
 
 The Bishop of Bayeux, though not dead, as the 
 fugitives supposed who had seen the combat between 
 Odo and Earl Ralph, with its catastrophe of mutual 
 unhorsing, was Jiors-de-couibat for the time being, and 
 unable to seek retrieval of his knightly prowess in 
 person. 
 
 The Countess Emma, with Eadgyth and her ladies, 
 ascended to the battlements of the keep to view the
 
 BESIEGED. 239 
 
 encampment of the foe, and in sooth the sight would 
 have been gay enough if it had not borne so dire a 
 meaning. 
 
 Groups of ghttering horsemen, their long lances 
 decked with many-coloured pennons gleaming in the 
 golden light, their horses curveting and prancing, were 
 riding hither and thither, directing and superintending. 
 Long lines of bowmen and slingers were advancing in 
 order at a quick march, wheeling and breaking into 
 companies as they reached the camping ground. Trains 
 of sumpter mules and squires with led horses mingled 
 with the infantry ; and shouts and laughter, the braying 
 of trumpets and neighing of horses, mixed fitfully in the 
 soft south wind. Sometimes even the words were audible 
 as some man-at-arms shouted to his followers, and the 
 blows of the mallets with which the poles of the pavil- 
 ions were being driven into the ground came sharply 
 through the air. The tents themselves were decked with 
 richly-hued silks, and soon displayed the banners of their 
 noble owners. As the twilight deepened, some hundreds 
 of watchfires threw out bright flames into the dusk, and 
 made the air fragrant with their sweet wood smoke, 
 seeming to blaze the brighter as the curfew boomed 
 forth from the church towers in Norwich, to bid all the 
 inhabitants of humble rank rake out their cheerful 
 hearths. 
 
 All 'the pomp and circumstance of glorious war,' as 
 it was known in those da}'s, was spread out before 
 Blauncheflour, and, as Emma watched the doings of her 
 foe, there rose in her spirit that wild and mysterious
 
 240 BESIEGED. 
 
 'rapture of battle,' which modern Darwinians explain 
 by tracing back our lineage to tiger forefathers, — that 
 strange yearning to dare all and spend life itself in one 
 great effort, which some have said is but the endeavour 
 to satisfy our instinct to grapple with abstract evil by 
 personifying it in the form of a human foe ; but which 
 others define, perhaps more truly, as the final efflor- 
 escence of egotism run riot, which satisfies its lust of 
 power even at the cost of destruction to itself. 
 
 Good or bad, the feeling flooded Emma's heart. At 
 sight of real danger, menacing and close, she who had 
 fainted at the thought of it grew bold as any of the 
 belted knights in the hostile host below. The blood of 
 her hero father coursed swiftly through her veins, and 
 the wild battle-song of Rollo, which had served her 
 ancestors so often as a national hymn, haunted her 
 brain. 
 
 She had ascended one of the small flights of steps at 
 the angle of the battlements, which served to raise the 
 sentinel above the merlons. 
 
 Eadgyth stood beside her, and the ladies and knights 
 in attendance were all busily watching the encamping 
 foe through the embrasures, and were out of earshot. 
 
 Emma stretched out her right hand with its small 
 fingers tightly clenched, and shook it at the beleaguer- 
 ing host. 
 
 ' Methinks, Eadgyth, these haught chevaliers with 
 their baldrics and their golden spurs, and above all my 
 Lord Bishop of Coutances, cut a sorry figure assembling 
 their forces thus to crush a woman,' she cried, with an
 
 Emma's first sight of the Foe.
 
 BESIEGED. 24 1 
 
 excited laugh. ' How wrathful will they be, when the 
 brave ger-falcon they deem to be mewed up within these 
 towers swoops down upon them as from the skies, with 
 a gallant army of bold Bretons, backed by some of 
 Sweyn Ulfsson's best warriors. Do your worst, ye tools 
 of my tyrant kinsman! I fear ye not. My lord is safe — 
 my lord ye would fain have hindered from being mine. 
 And I am safe also, whatever betide — my i/iisericorde 
 assures that' 
 
 ' Holy Mary preserve thee from such a desperate 
 safety ! ' exclaimed Eadgyth, whose sad, still face con- 
 trasted strongly with the flushed excitement of the 
 impulsive Norman. 
 
 ' Thou art down-hearted, Eadgyth ! ' said Emma, after 
 a piercing glance into her bower-maiden's eyes. ' I 
 know thee too well to believe that thy depression comes 
 from vulgar fear. Tell me thy grief. We are as private 
 here as in my bower. None can hear our speech.' 
 
 ' Seest thou yon star shining between two bars of 
 cloud, noble Emma? It reminds me of one who bore 
 a painted star between two clouds for his cognisance. 
 A dire doubt haunts me lest he be in the ranks of the 
 foe ; for I well remember his heart was always with 
 the Duke of Normandy.' 
 
 ' Sir Aimand de Sourdeval ? Nay, surely he would 
 not lift his hand against his lord. Besides, the carl told 
 me that he had sent him on a long journey.' 
 
 Through Eadgyth's heart passed a quiver of pain. 
 
 ' Not surely the longest journey of all,' her anxious 
 affection whispered, but she was silent. 
 
 Q
 
 242 BESIEGED. 
 
 ' Poor child, I feel for thee ! ' said the countess, laying 
 her hand caressingly on the flaxen head of the Saxon, 
 which her elevated position on the stone steps enabled 
 her to do comfortably. She had assumed a very matronly 
 manner since the gold ring had been slipped upon her 
 finger by her heart's chosen, and, in truth, she felt as if 
 years of experience had gone over her head since the 
 day when her brother had come to her and told her 
 ' that her broken troth should soon be mended.' 
 
 Sir Alain de Gourin approached with an obsequious 
 air, and the countess said to him gaily, ' I hope, fair sir, 
 the gentlemen yonder are well satisfied with the quarters 
 they have chosen, for methinks it will be somewhat long 
 e'er they change them for the hospitable shelter of 
 Blauncheflour.' 
 
 At which De Gourin laughed applaudingly, and swore 
 that if the garrison had half the spirit of their Castellan, 
 they would send them to bide still farther from their 
 doors. 
 
 Then the countess led her ladies down to the chapel, 
 where the chaplain performed a special mass, praying 
 the protection of the heavenly powers for the be- 
 leaguered garrison and for all who fought on their side, 
 at home or abroad, and offering prayers for the safety 
 and success of the earl. 
 
 The tears rolled down Emma's cheeks as she repeated 
 these last, and many of the ladies sobbed audibly, partly 
 for the woes of their countess and partly through fears 
 or sorrows of their own. 
 
 When the service was over, Emma dismissed her
 
 BESIEGED. 243 
 
 attendants, even Eadgyth, and followed Father Pierre 
 into his sacristy. 
 
 * I would have a mass performed, father,' she said, 
 ' for the soul's welfare of a knight whom I regard for 
 the sake of one who loves him well, and also in that he 
 did always seem to me an honest wight, but of whom I 
 know not whether he be fighting for my dear lord, or if 
 he be in the opposing host without. There is no reason 
 why I should make mystery of his name — Sir Aimand de 
 Sourdeval' 
 
 ' Sir Aimand de Sourdeval ! ' repeated Father Pierre, 
 gazing at the lady with startled eyes. ' Knowest thou 
 not, noble countess, that he is a prisoner in the dungeons 
 of this keep ? '
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE.' 
 
 ' Sir Aimand de Sourdeval a prisoner in this castle ? ' 
 repeated the countess in a tone of the most complete 
 surprise, and her cheeks grew white with a sudden 
 horror, for, to explain this thing, either, it seemed 
 to her, the young knight, whose honest face and 
 noble bearing had won her respect and the heart 
 of her best-loved bower-maiden, must be unworthy ; 
 or — and the thought gave her a keener pang than 
 even she had suffered from the rumour of his death 
 — the master of the castle had made evil use of his 
 power. 
 
 ' Wherefore is this ? Knowest thou his offence, 
 father ? ' demanded the countess. 
 
 The young priest bowed his head. ' Daughter, if thou 
 wilt know the truth, the offence of a too great fidelity to 
 his suzerain, William of Normandy,' he answered in a 
 low voice. 
 
 A spasm of pain crossed Emma's face at this 
 objective presentment of her worst fear, and the terrible 
 heart-searchings with which she had entered into the 
 
 244
 
 •'STONE JVALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE: 245 
 
 struggle against the Conqueror returned with renewed 
 force. 
 
 ' I would hear this prisoner's defence from his own 
 lips, and judge for myself of his guilt,' she said, turning 
 to Father Pierre with quick decision, and a pale, set 
 face, ' Lead me to him.' 
 
 ' Noble Emma, the dungeon in which he is chained 
 is no seemly place for gold-embroidered slippers and 
 ermined robes.' 
 
 ' Less seemly still, then, for an innocent man, if 
 innocent he be,' cried Emma, each syllabic sounding 
 like a challenge thrown at a foe. ' Show me the way. 
 I will see myself to the lodgment of all under my 
 roof.' 
 
 Then a satisfied light gleamed from Father Pierre's 
 unworldly dark eyes, and his thin, ascetic features re- 
 laxed into a smile. ' The Holy Mother reward and 
 sustain thee, my daughter ! ' he said softly. ' Come then 
 at once ! ' 
 
 Emma followed him ; outwardly calm, but in reality 
 deeply moved, and not without terror at thought of 
 entering those terrible dungeons, which, although she 
 had passed her life in castles, had hitherto been known 
 to her only by name. 
 
 He led her through winding passages secured 
 by more than one heavy, clangorous portal — the 
 vaulted walls echoing to the creak of their hinges 
 — into the silence and the darkness of the base- 
 ment. 
 
 The chaplain was free to penetrate at will into these
 
 246 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE: 
 
 halls of suffering and despair in the prosecution of 
 his sacred office, but the warders who guarded the 
 various portals half forgot to make their reverence to 
 the priest, as they stared with open-eyed surprise at 
 the lady, till, on recognising her, they saluted with 
 clumsy haste, and strove to atone for momentary negli- 
 gence by quick opening of the door which formed 
 their ward. 
 
 Emma shuddered as the torch with which Father 
 Pierre had provided himself gleamed on the damp, 
 massive walls. It seemed to her that imprisonment 
 between them would of itself bring death to her, and 
 she marvelled how any human creature should sustain 
 life under such conditions. 
 
 ' In sooth, noble Emma,' said Father Pierre, as the 
 countess gave expression to this feeling, ' the holy 
 saints have sent thee hither this night, because time 
 grew pressing. A little while, and the man who is the 
 object of thine errand of mercy would be released by a 
 sterner liberator — death. If thou shouldst deem him 
 worthy of his dungeon, he will not need guarding 
 long!' 
 
 ' Ah ! ' sighed Emma, with a sharp pang of horror, and 
 instinctively quickening her steps, as if a moment might 
 be fatal. 
 
 They had reached a narrow, ponderous door, studded 
 with huge nails. Father Pierre produced a key which 
 he had taken from a warder who stood at the end of 
 the passage. He turned it in the lock, and, drawing 
 back their solid bolts, pushed open the door and entered
 
 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE: 247 
 
 the cell into which it gave access, the countess following 
 with shrinking steps. 
 
 The cell was small, for it was hollowed in the wall of 
 the keep, some thirteen feet in thickness at the outside ; 
 it was, perhaps, eight feet square. The walls were run- 
 ning with moisture, and the air was dank and fcetid. 
 On a stone ledge raised a little higher than the ground, 
 the prostrate figure of a man was revealed by the fitful 
 gleam of the torch, and Father Pierre went forward and 
 bent over him. 
 
 'Awake, my son!' he said gently, holding the torch 
 so that the light fell upon the slumberer's face. 
 
 Emma's hands clung together in anguish as she saw 
 the gaunt, cadaverous features, the paled skin, and the 
 wild matted hair and beard of the prisoner, and marked 
 the fleshlessness of the limbs that were extended in 
 uneasy length upon the inhospitable couch. His 
 appearance might have moved the hardest-hearted to 
 pity, and seemed all the more terrible in contrast with 
 the image that was in Emma's mind, of the young 
 knight as she had last seen him, in all the bravery of 
 the harness of the jousting-field, neat-shaven and close- 
 cropped as any modern English gentleman, according 
 to the fashion of the Normans. 
 
 The unhappy knight opened his eyes with a nervous 
 start, and sprang into a sitting posture ; the rattle of 
 chains that accompanied his movement revealing to the 
 ruthful eyes of the countess that his ankles were loaded 
 with heavy rings of iron, attached by chains to a 
 stanchion in the floor
 
 248 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE: 
 
 ' Fear nothing, Sir Aimand,' said the priest reassur- 
 ingly. ' It is I — Father Pierre ; and I have brought thee 
 hope, and at least the surety that thy case will be 
 inquired into and sifted to the ground. See, the noble 
 Countess Emma has herself deigned to visit thy prison. 
 St. Michael has answered thy prayers ! ' 
 
 The captive stared round him with haggard eyes, 
 which seemed almost supernaturally large and bright, 
 and Emma quailed as they rested at length upon her, 
 with an expression of wonder and inquiry. 
 
 'The Countess Emma?' he repeated in a faint voice, 
 —'the bride?' 
 
 Time for him had been standing still since the day 
 of that fatal bride-ale, which brought evil in some form 
 to all who partook of it ! 
 
 ' Art thou indeed Sir Aimand de Sourdeval ? ' said 
 Emma, crossing the cell and standing before the prisoner, 
 her beautiful face full of pity, yet not all softness. ' Un- 
 happy knight,' she added almost sternly, her clear, 
 decisive utterance ringing round the cell, ' what crime 
 hast thou committed against my lord, that thou art 
 subject to such durance?' 
 
 De Sourdeval threw back his head with a gesture of 
 indignation ; then his expression changed to one of 
 sadness, and he threw himself on his knee before the 
 countess. 
 
 ' Noble Emma,' he said, ' the only crime I have com- 
 mitted against thy lord and mine own liege, was that of 
 being faithful to his suzerain and mine, nor can I believe 
 the kind and generous De Guader knows my fate.'
 
 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE.' 249 
 
 ' Thank God ! ' cried Emma, with a sudden sob. 
 
 ' Thou hast been good to me always ! ' exclaimed De 
 Sourdeval, with intense excitement, his breast heaving 
 and his eyes shining as he spoke. ' Oh, gracious countess, 
 bear my petition to thy lord, and tell him that Aimand 
 de Sourdeval was never unfaithful to him in word or 
 deed, and pray him to sift this matter to the bottom, 
 for if he knoweth aught, 'tis most like that his ears 
 have been abused by the untrue malignities of my 
 enemies.' 
 
 ' Knowest thou not that the earl is sped to Denmark, 
 there to collect fresh forces wherewith to relieve us 
 from the beleaguering host that now sits before the 
 castle walls?' asked Emma, with less firmness, feeling 
 for the fu'st time the full weight of the responsibilities 
 she had undertaken. ' In my hands is the ruling 
 of the castle ; tell me, therefore, the burden of thy 
 petition.' 
 
 Then Sir Aimand related to her the story of his ad- 
 ventures on the night of her bridal, and how Sir Alain 
 de Gourin had foully entreated him, a narrative broken 
 by terrible fits of coughing, showing how deeply the 
 chills of his prison had wrought upon his frame, and by 
 exclamations of surprise from the countess, who was 
 much startled to discover the conduct of the l^reton 
 knight, and in great perplexity, for she felt keenly that 
 Sir Aimand had but acted the part of an honourable 
 man, ami that to offer him a pardon under such circum- 
 stances would be but an insult. Moreover, he seemed 
 to ignore the carl's present position of active rebellion,
 
 2 so 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRLSON MAKE: 
 
 and she could not gather how far he was aware of the 
 position of affairs. 
 
 ' Doubtless, Sir Knight,' she said, ' thine impulse to be 
 faithful to thy suzerain was that of a true and loyal soul, 
 and none can blame thee ; but William of Normandy 
 has made the land groan under his tyranny, and so 
 haught and overbearing was he, that, for the mere 
 delight of showing his power, he crushed his most loving 
 peers under his heel. Thou knowest that he strove 
 to part my lord from me, and forbade our marriage ; 
 and so wroth was he at the breach of his capricious 
 mandate, that, in self-defence, my lord was driven to 
 take arms. Let the past be forgotten. Thou shalt be 
 reinstated in all knightly honour, and shall prove thy 
 faith to the earl thy lord, by defending his lady in his 
 absence.' 
 
 She held out her white jewelled hand to the gaunt, 
 unkempt prisoner, looking in his face with a persuasive 
 witchery that might have tempted a man to leave a 
 palace for a dungeon. But De Sourdeval kept back his 
 meagre, unwashed hand. 
 
 * Noble countess,' he exclaimed, with a long sobbing 
 sigh, that showed how great the effort was to speak 
 words that might close for ever his half-opened prison 
 door, ' against whom am I to defend thee ? Am I to 
 fight men who are faithful to their knightly vows, by the 
 side of traitors who have broken troth ? ' 
 
 ' My son ! my son ! ' interposed Father Pierre 
 anxiously. The knight's bold words brought home the 
 unvarnished truth of the situation with a startling clear-
 
 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRLSON MAKE: 251 
 
 ness, which his own dreamy nature had enabled him to 
 shirk facing hitherto. 
 
 Emma proved cowardly ; she evaded a direct answer, 
 and sheltered herself behind the privileges of her 
 sex. 
 
 ' Surely thy vow of chivalry binds thee to succour 
 ladies in danger? We are in danger, myself and my 
 ladies. Eadgyth of Norwich,' — she paused and looked 
 in his face. De Sourdeval made a gesture of distress, 
 — ' Dame Amicia, whose age and infirmity should nerve 
 the arm of a brave young knight and all our band, 
 need the help of every stalwart friend who can be 
 found. Still further. Sir Aimand, famine is our most 
 dread foe,' she added, half smiling at the inhospit- 
 able thought. ' We can ill support idle mouths in 
 Blancheflour.' 
 
 'Let me then starve, clear lady,' replied De Sourdeval 
 in a low voice of desperate earnest, and avoiding her too 
 persuasive eyes. ' I cannot lift my hand against my 
 heart's witness to the right.* 
 
 ' Fight not then, noble Sir Aimand ! ' exclaimed tlic 
 countess, deeply moved. ' Only pass thy knightly 
 pledge not to betray us to the foe, or to struggle to 
 escape, and thou shalt be free ! Nay, if we make a 
 prisoner we will honourably exchange thee !' 
 
 'Not even that can I do, noble countess,' saitl vSir 
 Aimand with unwavering firmness. ' I cannot pledge 
 myself not to help the right.' 
 
 ' Nay then, thou art obstinate ! ' cried Emma, stamping 
 on the stones with one of the gold-embroidered slippers
 
 252 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE: 
 
 which Father Pierre had observed to be ill suited to 
 dungeon floors, and turning away. 
 
 Sir Aimand bowed his head in silence, and made 
 no effort to recall her, as she swept towards the 
 door, though his trembling lips and clenched fingers 
 showed the fierceness of the struggle he was 
 making. 
 
 But Emma paused before she reached the door. 
 'Thou art too proud. Sir Knight,' she said coldly. 
 ' But few can rival the Fitzosberns in that quality, and I 
 also have my pride. I scorn to make conditions with a 
 man circumstanced as thou art. Abuse my generosity 
 if thou list. Thou art free ! ' 
 
 ' Mary Mother in heaven bless thee for thy goodness, 
 noble countess ! ' cried De Sourdeval, raising his head 
 with a start of joy. ' Yet methinks I am scarce free 
 yet ! ' He lifted his shackled limbs, and made the heavy 
 irons clang upon the floor. 
 
 ' Ah, good St. Nicholas, no ! ' cried Emma, with a 
 fresh shock, as she realised what sufferings the prisoner 
 must have undergone, ' But thou shalt be free before 
 the sun is in the sky.' 
 
 ' Noble countess,' interrupted a harsh voice behind 
 her, ' what means thy presence in this cell at such an 
 hour ? By the Rood ! thou dost great honour to the 
 would-be murderer of thy husband.' 
 
 ' Liar ! ' hissed the prisoner between his set teeth. 
 
 Emma turned with a start to face Sir Alain de Gourin, 
 his cheeks purple with passion, and his quivering hand 
 on the hilt of his miscricoi'dc. The countess thought it
 
 ' STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE: 253 
 
 politic to ignore his speech, although every word had 
 reached her ears. 
 
 'Sir Alain !' she exclaimed, simulating pleasure at his 
 appearance. ' Thy coming is most opportune. I was 
 about to send a messenger to thee. Give orders forth- 
 with that the irons be struck from the limbs of this 
 worthy knight without delay. He hath been shrewdly 
 misunderstood, and my will is that he be set free !' 
 
 She looked the mercenary hardily in the face as she 
 gave him her command, and the villain quailed. He 
 saw that he had come too late to prevent her from 
 hearing Sir Aimand's statement of the casd 
 
 He accepted the oblivion in which she had buried his 
 first insulting speech, and took an entirely different tone. 
 ' Thy will is law, noble countess,' he said obsequiously, 
 and with a low bow. 
 
 Emma did not retire to rest until she knew that the 
 knight was comfortably lodged in the state apartments 
 of the castle. 
 
 The Breton had been completely taken by surprise. 
 He had imposed upon the carl with a story which the 
 latter, in the excitement attendant upon his ambitious 
 enterprise, had neglected to verify, and it had never 
 entered his head that the countess would trouble herself 
 about the matter. He supposed that the carl himself 
 had at least spoken to her of Sir Aimand as a culprit, 
 and that she was entirely ignorant of his presence as a 
 prisoner in the castle ; as she had been, until the strange 
 impulse which came to her to have a mass said for him, 
 caused her to name him to the chaplain.
 
 254 ' STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE: 
 
 Even in case of her finding the matter out and wishing 
 to probe it, he had an ingenious story ready, wherewith 
 to put her off the scent. 
 
 But the suddenness with which she had taken matters 
 into her own hands, and had visited the prisoner and 
 heard Jiis version of the facts, quite overcame the some- 
 what clumsy wit of the Breton. 
 
 His first impulse, as usual, had been to bluster, but the 
 firmness with which the countess confronted him had 
 fairly cowed him for the moment, as he knew that he 
 would have to justify himself, and to eat a good many 
 of his words before Sir Hoel and the Norman knights of 
 the garrison, to whom he had accounted for De Sour- 
 deval's absence by representing that he had been sent 
 on an embassy by the earl. 
 
 Many were the curses that he inwardly showered 
 on the devoted head of Father Pierre, to whom he 
 attributed the discovery of his schemes, and he also 
 reviled himself for having forgotten him as a possible 
 channel of communication between the prisoner and the 
 countess. 
 
 His wits had not been the brighter for the hour at 
 which Emma had happened on her inopportune dis- 
 covery, for he had been indulging freely in his favourite 
 spiced hippocras during the evening, and therefore it 
 seemed best to his clumsy cunning to offer no further 
 open opposition to the countess, and to carry out her 
 orders himself, thus gaining time to concoct plausible 
 excuses before Sir Hoel should know of the affair. 
 
 Emma also kept her own counsel, and did not say a
 
 'STONE WALLS DO NOT A PRISON MAKE: 255 
 
 word even to Eadgyth, when the Saxon maiden, who 
 slept in her chamber, came to help her to unrobe. 
 
 When Eadgyth ventured a question as to what had 
 detained her to such a late hour, the countess smiled 
 and kissed her. 
 
 'Thou shalt know all in good time, dear donzelle,' 
 she answered. ' Ask me not to-night.'
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 X OUTRANGE. 
 
 The morning came, and with it cares more important 
 than the fate of the poor Knight of Sourdeval. 
 
 Before the dew was off the meadows, the shrill 
 trumpets of the besiegers were heard at the barbican, 
 demanding a parley, and calling for admittance in the 
 name of the king. 
 
 The countess, holding counsel with Sir Hoel de St. 
 Brice and Sir Alain de Gourin, and other of the knights 
 of the garrison, replied that she would accede to the 
 parley, and receive the messenger in person ; and, 
 accordingly, the messenger was blindfolded, admitted 
 within the castle, and conducted to the council-chamber 
 in the great tower. 
 
 The knight who bore the message of the king's 
 lieutenants was sheathed in complete armour, and 
 exceedingly stately in his mien and figure, being tall 
 and of great personal strength. He was no other than 
 Robert Malet, whose father, the loved and honoured 
 William Malet, had been in bodily prowess second to 
 none but the Conqueror himself of those who fought on 
 the Norman side at Hastings. 
 
 256
 
 A OUTRANGE. 257 
 
 As he entered the room, the rebel knights in- 
 stinctively straightened themselves, and assumed such 
 dignity of bearing as they were capable of showing ; 
 but none bore comparison with him save Leofric 
 Ealdredsson, the stalwart Anglo-Dane, who had never 
 bent the knee to the Norman Conqueror, and who 
 now stood at the right hand of the countess, with the 
 lightnings of a noble defiance gleaming in his blue 
 eyes. 
 
 Yet Malet himself was to become a rebel before his 
 death. When the silken kerchief with which his eyes 
 had been covered was removed, he gazed proudly round 
 the assembly, and bowed his tall head to the countess 
 alone. 
 
 ' In the name of William the Conqueror, King of 
 England and Duke of Normandy,' he said in a command- 
 ing voice, ' I call upon Ralph de Guader and Montfort, 
 heretofore Earl of East Anglia, but deprived of his 
 earldom for that he has wrongfully taken arms against 
 his suzerain and liege lord ; and I demand that he 
 instantly surrenders this castle, which he holds only as 
 the Constable of the king. I demand that entrance into 
 the said castle be at once given to the troops of his 
 Grace the king, and that he thereby refrain from 
 adding still further to his guilt, by contumaciously 
 retaining it.' 
 
 'The Earl of East Anglia hath taken ship from this 
 
 countr)', and halh devolved the duties of Castellan upon 
 
 me, his countess,' replied Emma calml\-. 
 
 ' In that case, noble lady, — I cannot style thee countess, 
 
 R
 
 258 A OUTRANGE. 
 
 for thou hast no longer right to the title, — I call upon 
 thee, as Castellan of this castle of Blauncheflour, to 
 surrender it to the lieutenants of thy liege and kinsman, 
 William of Normandy,' answered the young knight, 
 fixing his keen blue eyes upon Emma's fair face, whose 
 features, worn by the anxiety she had undergone, 
 were pathetic in their pallor, and moved his heart to 
 pity. ' I may well suppose,' he continued boldly, 
 ' that in so doing thou wilt with pleasure disburden 
 thy slender shoulders of so heavy and unwomanly a 
 burden.' 
 
 Emma drew herself up with a slight gesture of disdain 
 for such misbestowed sympathy. The knight responded 
 by adding hastily, ' Moreover, I would appeal to thy 
 gentleness and natural instincts of mercy to prevent the 
 useless shedding of blood which the holding of this 
 castle must cause, by prolonging a struggle which can 
 only end one way.' 
 
 Emma's delicate nostrils quivered, and the fine firm 
 lips set fiercely. 
 
 ' The Countess of East Anglia desires to know the 
 terms on which she is asked to yield up her faithful 
 garrison to the tender mercies of the men who mutilated 
 Stephen le Hareau,' she said, still calmly, but with 
 flashing eyes, and due emphasis on her title. ' The race 
 is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, 
 and methinks her gentleness and love of mercy are more 
 nearly concerned in preventing her faithful defenders 
 from encountering such a fate as his.' 
 
 ' To the Castellan of Blauncheflour I reply, that the
 
 2 OUTRANGE. 259 
 
 surrender must be without conditions,' answered the 
 knight. 
 
 'In that case,' answered Emma, 'the Countess of 
 East Angh'a repHes, that her garrison w^ill win their own 
 terms by their swords.' 
 
 Leofric Ealdredsson burst out with a loud ' Ahoi ! ' 
 in the exuberance of his approbation, and clashed his 
 heavy axe upon the floor, his many bracelets jingling 
 like small bells. ' Well said ! ' exclaimed the venerable 
 Sir Hoel de St. Brice, looking at the young countess 
 with an expression of reverent affection, and from one 
 and all the representatives of the garrison who stood 
 around her chair broke various expressions of ap- 
 proval. 
 
 The countess turned to her knights with sparkling 
 eyes. ' I have ye with me, then, in this reply, fair sirs ? ' 
 she asked, and the tumult of assent with which they 
 answered hindered Robert Malet, for some moments, 
 from further speech. 
 
 In truth the enthusiasm was contagious, and the royal 
 envoy's own eyes flashed. The chivalrous spirit of Fitz- 
 osbern's daughter jumped well with his humour. He 
 had been a sorry Norman else ; no true heritor of the 
 wild sea-kings. It cost him some effort to resist his 
 impulse to join in the applause, but he controlled him- 
 self, and said gravely, 'I pray thee, noble lady, to consider 
 well before coming to so direful a decision ; involving, 
 as it doth, no less an issue than the adding of high 
 treason on thine own part to the heavy guilt of the 
 man thou hast wedded against the express mandate of
 
 26o A OUTRANGE. 
 
 thy suzerain. The daughter of William Fitzosbeni 
 should be slow to draw the sword against William of 
 Normandy.' 
 
 ' The decision is final, Sir Knight,' replied Emma 
 curtly ; thinking to herself that William of Normandy 
 had not scrupled to insult the son and daughter of 
 William Fitzosbern. She added to those in attendance, 
 ' Let this brave gentleman be reconducted to the gate 
 without delay.' 
 
 The envoy bowed in silence, and, allowing the silken 
 kerchief to be again bound over his eyes, he marched 
 with stately grace from the apartment. 
 
 So Emma de Guader cast down her gauntlet beside 
 that of her husband, and dared the power of her great 
 cousin. 
 
 Before the sun was midw^ay in the heavens, a fierce 
 struggle had begun between the besiegers and the 
 besieged for possession of the barbican. This was not 
 a strong construction of masonry as in the Norman 
 castles of the twelfth century, but a deep and wide fosse 
 or moat, with a high vallum strengthened with stout 
 palisading on its inner side, of a semicircular or horse- 
 shoe form, the horns nearly touching the present ditch. 
 The causeway that passed between the horns and the 
 present ditch, by which access was given to the castle, 
 was amply protected by the towers of the gate-house 
 and the walls of the castle itself, from whence arrows 
 and quarrels would easily reach assailants. The similar 
 fosse and palisaded vallum surrounding the castle meadow 
 afforded additional protection to the eastern extremity
 
 A OUTRANGE. 261 
 
 of the causeway ; the portion of the semicircle to the 
 south-west being most open to attack. 
 
 Spearmen and javelin-throwers lined the palisades, 
 and from their cover repelled the onslaught of the 
 assaulting men-at-arms, who had further to withstand a 
 whizzing shower of arrows from bowmen hiding in the 
 wooden stalls of the market. 
 
 The king's men were endeavouring to throw a wooden 
 bridge across the ditch. One end was furnished with 
 wheels, the other with huge grappling-irons, which they 
 strove to make fast in the vallum. 
 
 Watching them stood Leofric Ealdredsson, who, on 
 the night before, when Sir Alain de Gourin had been 
 sneering at the primitive Saxon earthworks, had said, 
 with a laugh and a fierce gleam in his eyes, ' Let me 
 defend them ; I am used to the rude English fashions.' 
 A band of his terrible house-carles, armed with their 
 great battle-axes, and long of hair and large of limb, 
 waited his orders with the air of bloodhounds in a leash 
 straining at their collars. 
 
 From a loophole on the southern side of the keep, 
 lighting the gallery which runs within the walls on a 
 level with the great entrance, the countess and her 
 bower-maiden Eadgyth watched the strife. 
 
 Eadgyth had been present in the council-chamber 
 during the audience of Robert Malct. ' Thou wast 
 grand, Emma,' she was saying to her lady and friend. 
 ' Thou wast so strong and courageous, while, to say sooth, 
 my own heart was beating like an armourer's hammer.' 
 
 'Thou art a strange child, my Eadgyth,' said Emma
 
 262 A OUTRANGE. 
 
 affectionately, well pleased with the admission of the 
 English maiden. 
 
 A wilder shout from the besiegers than any preceding 
 broke their converse, and for some moments each 
 watched the progress of the fight in breathless silence. 
 
 For the assailants had established their bridge against 
 the vallum, and over it the attacking knights charged in 
 a body, led by Robert Malet in person, his high crest 
 topping them all, and by sheer weight of horse and 
 harness they drave down the barricades and pressed in, 
 hewing in sunder all before them. 
 
 Eadgyth gave a shrill scream and threw her arms 
 wildly round the countess, who stood motionless, with 
 eyes dilated and heaving breast. 
 
 Then rang out the wild Norse war-cry, ' Ahoi ! ahoi ! ' 
 And Leofric and his fierce carles sprang forward like 
 tigers ; and the flash and crash of their great axes smote 
 eye and ear, while more than one knightly saddle was 
 emptied, more than one riderless destrier ran neighing 
 around the enclosure ; more than one mailed warrior, 
 impervious to arrows and quarrels, was cloven through 
 his helm and lay lifeless on the ground. 
 
 The Anglo-Danes laughed in their yellow beards, and 
 vigorously improved their advantage, so that in a few 
 moments the knights were forced back beyond the line 
 of the barricades, some getting back across the bridge, 
 some falling into the water. 
 
 ' See, foolish child ! thy cousin has driven them back 1 ' 
 cried Emma. For Leofric was akin to Harold on the 
 mother's side, and so akin to Eadgyth. She stroked the
 
 A OUTRANGE. 263 
 
 cheek of the frightened girl as a mother who comforts 
 an infant. ' And had he not, there arc stout walls and 
 strong arms betwixt them and thee.' 
 
 ' I know it ! I know it ! Rut it is all so terrible ! I 
 have not thy nerves of steel ! Oh, Emma, in pity watch 
 no longer ! I cannot bear it ! ' 
 
 ' Faint heart ! ' cried Emma lovingly. ' The clash of 
 arms doth but spur my courage. I have always loved 
 it from my cradle. Methinks I had made a doughty 
 knight ! It is not danger that quells me.' 
 
 Her face grew sad, for the bitter pang of an uneasy 
 conscience gnawed her soul. Danger did not quell her, 
 but her doubting heart tormented her. 
 
 'Let me then starve, dear lady ; I cannot lift my hand 
 against my heart's zvitfiess to the right.' 
 
 The sentence sprang into her mind and seemed to 
 glow before her eyes as if it had been seared upon her 
 brain with red-hot irons. 
 
 She drew her breath with a long shuddering sigh. In 
 the rapid crowding of events that inorning, the man who 
 had spoken it in such despairing earnest had been 
 forgotten, though she had thought of nothing else 
 through the long watches of the night. 
 
 She turned to Eadgyth, and bade her go to the chapel, 
 and offer prayers for the earl, and the garrison, and the 
 souls of the fallen. 'Thou wilt feel safe within the hoh- 
 precincts,' she said ; ' and Dame Amicia shall attend me. 
 She is short of sight, and the shouts of yonder madmen 
 will scarce penetrate her ears ; she will prove more 
 courageous than art thou.'
 
 264 A OUTRANGE. 
 
 When the aged lady-in-waiting came to her, in 
 obedience to the message Eadgyth had conveyed, the 
 countess left the loophole through which so stirring a 
 drama was visible, and advanced to meet her. ' I need 
 the support of thy reverend presence, dear dame,' she 
 said, and told her how she had found one of her lord's 
 knights imprisoned, as she believed, on a misunderstand- 
 ing, and that she wished to question him again, having 
 taken it upon her to free him. 
 
 The old lady could hear each syllable of Emma's 
 clear, soft voice, though she was untroubled by the 
 shouts of the combatants below, and she nodded her 
 stately head with its crown of snow-white hair, tastefully 
 draped with a broidercd veil of Cyprian crape. 
 
 ' A good lad, a good lad, and ever courteous,' answered 
 Dame Amicia. ' Thou dost well to probe the matter. 
 I thought he had gone to Bretagne.' 
 
 ' It seems he was in durance in this castle,' said Emma. 
 ' But we knew it not ; or, if my lord knew it, he had no 
 time to sift the charges against him. Methinks, if he 
 have somewhat erred, he has been punished enough, and 
 I may grant him pardon.' 
 
 ' Ay ; if we forgive not the trespasses of others, how 
 can we pray with a clean heart that our own may be 
 forgiven ? ' replied the old lady, nodding again. ' We 
 must practise forgiveness, or our paternosters are but a 
 mockery.' 
 
 No further words were spoken till they reached the 
 apartment to which, according to the orders of the 
 countess, Sir Aimand had been conveyed.
 
 A OUTRANGE. 265 
 
 De Gourin had taken the precaution to place a stout 
 warder at the door, who announced the visit of tlic 
 countess to the knight. 
 
 When Emma entered the chamber, Sir Aimand threw 
 himself on his knee before her, with an expression of deep 
 homage, and bowed to her and to her venerable attendant. 
 
 ' Noble countess,' he exclaimed, ' I scarce know how 
 to form my gratitude in words ! ' 
 
 Emma was freshly shocked when she saw his face and 
 form. Shaven and close-clipped as became a Norman 
 knight, and clad in tunic and hose, the ravages of two 
 months of misery were but the more conspicuous, as 
 they owed no adventitious aid to wild elf-locks and 
 shaggy beard. His cheeks were sunken, and his eyes 
 unnaturally bright with fever, and the bones of his thin 
 hands and limbs were pitiful to see. His voice also was 
 hoarse and hollow. Emma felt that the revelations of 
 the morning moved her more, not less, than the doleful 
 horrors of the preceding night. 
 
 ' I fear me thou hast greatly suffered,' she said in- 
 voluntarily. ' Rise, Sir Aimand, and be seated ; thou 
 art not fit to stand.' 
 
 And Sir Aimand was forced to obey her, for, as he 
 rose to his feet, he tottered and clutched at a stool for 
 support, and Emma recalled some fears that had crossed 
 her mind during the night, with pathetic amusement, 
 for she had been haunted with the idea that she had 
 perhaps let loose a very dangerous champion in the 
 castle. The poor knight looked little able to fight cither 
 for her cause or against it.
 
 266 A OUTRANGE. 
 
 ' I had come hither to question thee more closely as 
 to the circumstances of thy imprisonment,' the countess 
 said, ' and to see if thy proud spirit be at all softened by 
 my bounty, but methinks the best thing I can do is to 
 send thee a good leech.' 
 
 ' Noble countess, thy generosity hath not left me 
 unmoved,' said Sir Aimand eagerly. ' I give thee my 
 parole, neither to attempt escape, nor in any way to 
 communicate with, aid, or abet the besiegers, if indeed 
 thou wilt be gracious enough to accept it so ungraciously 
 and tardily given.' 
 
 ' I will accept it,' replied the countess, with a gratified 
 smile ; and Dame Amicia smiled also, seeing that her 
 lady was well pleased, although her deafness prevented 
 her from knowing very clearly her reasons for satis- 
 faction. 
 
 The countess had felt that the old dame's infirmity 
 might be convenient, for the chief object of her visit 
 was to question the knight more closely regarding the 
 circumstances of his imprisonment, and she cared not to 
 trust his indictment of Sir Alain to any of her gossip- 
 loving ladies. 
 
 ' I would that Sir Alain bore not so important a 
 position in the garrison,' she said, after listening again 
 to De Sourdeval's story. ' The Bretons make the 
 most part of our strength, and, save one or two, who 
 are vassals to my lord, he hath them all under his 
 command.' 
 
 ' Lady,' answered De Sourdeval, * strive not to see me 
 righted to the detriment of thy welfare. It may well be
 
 A OUTRANGE. 267 
 
 that De Gourin will serve thee faithfully, though he 
 satisfied a private vengeance against me. Let him not 
 know that I accuse him ; say only that thou dost grant 
 me pardon. But be on thy guard against him.' 
 
 ' It must be so,' answered the countess, 'for tlie 
 present! 
 
 So saying, she took her leave, the knight following her 
 with grateful eyes. 
 
 When Emma regained her bower, she summoned 
 Eadgyth to her. 
 
 ' I have news to comfort thy courage,' she said. ' A 
 doughty champion is in the castle. Does not thy heart 
 tell thee his name?' 
 
 Eadgyth opened her blue eyes in vague surprise, then 
 cried, with a start of joy, — 
 
 * Ah, Emma, dear Emma! hath the carl so soon 
 returned ? ' 
 
 ' Fie, maiden ! wouldst make me jealous ? Doth iJiy 
 heart suggest the name of my lord ? ' 
 
 'What meanest thou, Emma? Jest not, I pray thee. 
 These days are too terrible for jesting,' said Eadgyth, 
 with distressed mien and paling cheeks. 
 
 Emma took both her slender wrists in hers and looked 
 lovingly in her face. ' Nay, we must jest to keep our 
 blood from curdling, Eadgyth. But I will not tease 
 thee. Sweet, 'tis Sir Aimand de Sourdeval of whom I 
 speak.' 
 
 Eadgyth said nothing, but met Emma's gaze with 
 eyes in which joy and .surprise, and doubt of herself that 
 was almost terror, were struggling for mastery.
 
 268 A OUTRANGE. 
 
 Emma drew her gently upon the seat beside her. 
 ' Surely thou art glad to know that he is safe, if thou 
 joyest not that he is near ? ' 
 
 ' Ah yes ! I am glad — glad indeed of his safety ! ' 
 replied Eadgyth in a low, thrilling voice, and her hand 
 sought the bracelet which she wore as ever. 
 
 ' And not of his nearness ? ' 
 
 'I know not! I know not! It means but fresh 
 struggle and misery ! ' The tears rolled down her 
 cheeks. 
 
 ' Why struggle, Eadgyth ? Fate has united you when 
 all pointed to separation. Eadgyth, he needs thee. I 
 told thee sooth when I said he was in safety. But he 
 has suffered much. He is ill. Be thou his leech. Dame 
 Amicia will attend thee — her motherly heart warms 
 towards the youth.' 
 
 '111?' Eadgyth looked in the countess's eyes with 
 almost fierce questioning. 
 
 'Ill,' repeated Emma, smiling. 'Not dying; not in 
 danger; I said "safe." It is a long story, Eadgyth, but 
 I must tell it thee.' 
 
 Then she told the history we already know ; and how, 
 after Eadgyth's remark about him on the battlements, it 
 had entered her heart to have a mass said for him ; how 
 it had led to his discovery, and how she had visited him 
 in his dungeon. 
 
 When she came to that point, and narrated her visit, 
 describing his sorrowful aspect with unconscious pathos, 
 Eadgyth sprang up and clasped her hands above her 
 head. ' Oh, the terrible injustice of it ! ' she groaned, and
 
 A OUTRANGE. 269 
 
 afterwards she paced backwards and forwards, unable to 
 control her emotion. 
 
 ' But thy hero was shrewdly saucy, Eadgyth. Woe- 
 begone and desperate as he was, — I almost wish I had let 
 thee see the figure he cut, with his unkempt beard and 
 tangled locks, as long as those of thy Saxon champions, 
 — natheless he would make no terms. I might free him, 
 or leave him chained by the leg like a hobbled steed, as 
 I found him. One might have thought he had passed a 
 pleasant time down there in the dark. He would not 
 even give me his parole not to help our besiegers if I 
 gave him the chance.' 
 
 Eadgyth's eyes lighted up with a proud joy. ' That 
 was noble,' she said under her breath. 
 
 Emma laughed. ' He had come to a better mind this 
 morning,' she said ; ' I found means whereby to tame his 
 proud spirit.' 
 
 Eadgyth turned to her with a start, and wild \-isions 
 of racks and thumbscrews, and other fashionable instru- 
 ments of the time, passed through her mind. Her spirit 
 was so torn with the terror of the day, and the excite- 
 ment she had undergone, that she did not pause to 
 consider probabilities. ' Emma ! thou hadst not heart 
 to crush one so unhappy ? ' 
 
 ' I had ! ' said lunma. 
 
 Eadgyth's eyes looked duml) reproach more eloquent 
 than words. 
 
 * Yes,' said Emma ; ' I hold not the office of Castellan 
 of Blaunchefiour by halves ! I made use of my 
 power.'
 
 270 A OUTRANGE. 
 
 ' What didst thou do ? ' asked Eadgyth in a scarcely 
 audible voice. 
 
 ' I gave him his Hberty without conditions, and had 
 him lodged in one of the best apartments of the castle. 
 That touched my knight's pride ; he would not have me 
 outdo him in generosity, so he capitulated this morning, 
 and offered me his parole without further asking ! ' and 
 the countess broke into a silvery peal of laughter. 
 
 * Oh, Emma, that was like thy dear self!' cried 
 Eadgyth, running to the countess, throwing herself on 
 her knees before her, and hiding her head in Emma's 
 robes like a repentant child. 
 
 Emma kissed her. ' Now, maiden, thy part must be 
 done. The knight has promised neither to help the 
 enemy nor to attempt escape. Be it for thee to persuade 
 him to buckle on his harness and fight for us. He can 
 scarce see thy sweet face, and know thou art in danger, 
 and not lift his hand to help thee ! ' 
 
 '/ persuade him! — to break his knightly vows and 
 fight against his lawful liege ? Never ! ' cried Eadgyth, 
 raising her head and throwing it back proudly. 'Strange,' 
 she continued, more to herself than to the countess, 
 indeed, scarce knowing that she spoke aloud, ' how thy 
 haught courage and noble generosity are allied with so 
 little sense of moral right ! ' 
 
 A flash of pain and some indignation crossed the 
 countess's brow. ' I deny thy right to judge me,' she 
 said coldly. ' There are some who strain after such high 
 ideals, they fail to see the duties that lie near; gratitude, 
 for instance, and the welfare of their friends ! '
 
 A OUTRANGE. 271 
 
 Eadgyth was silent, for she felt that Emma was unjust; 
 she would have given her life to serve her, though she 
 would not go a step against her conscience. 
 
 ' Sir Aimand has suffered much,' said the countess 
 gently, after a pause. ' He is out of health and out of 
 hope. A little happiness would serve him in better stead 
 than an armful of herbs and simples. Go to him, 
 Eadgyth ! Encourage his contumacy if thou wilt, but 
 go to him.' 
 
 And Eadgyth went.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 
 
 At the close of the day the barbican still remained 
 in the keeping of the besieged. 
 
 It had not been retained without the loss of many 
 a stout soldier, and the spital was crowded with patients, 
 who occupied all the healing talents of the countess and 
 her ladies. 
 
 When Emma at last retired to her chamber, with her 
 Saxon bower-maiden in attendance, she was so weary 
 and worn with the excitement and strain of the day, 
 that she threw herself upon the bed, without even taking 
 off her jewels, and fell asleep almost immediately ; while 
 Eadgyth, after softly laying a warm coverlet over her, 
 lay down beside her. 
 
 But not to sleep. Her brain was full of dire and dis- 
 turbing images, and even the face of Sourdeval, which 
 it had been so great a joy to her to behold once more, 
 came to her as she had seen it, wan and melancholy, 
 when he turned to her as she entered his apartment, 
 before it flashed with brightness on recognising who had 
 come to him. The change in him had shocked her, and 
 in her nervous and depressed mood she thought of him 
 
 I
 
 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 273 
 
 as one whom death had marked for his own, and his 
 image was but as a pale spectre, round which the mani- 
 fold forms of wounded and dying and tortured men, 
 whom she had beheld during the day, grouped as a 
 central point. 
 
 Her ears were full of the wild shouts of the 
 besiegers and the shrieks of the injured, the awful 
 clash of seax on helm, and hurtle and w^hiz of 
 arrows. Again and again she woke from a fitful 
 doze, thinking to hear the thunder of charging knights 
 and the fierce ' Aoi ! ' of Leofric Ealdredsson and his 
 carles, as they leaped forth from the cover of the 
 palisades upon the foe. 
 
 At last from such an awakening she sprang from the 
 bed ; better, she thought, to wake all night than suffer 
 such awful dreams. 
 
 But the awakening did not silence the cries. They 
 were no dreams, those screams of terror, those head- 
 rending shrieks for help, they were dreadful realities ; 
 and, rushing to the window, she gazed out with a beating 
 heart at the western sky, which flickered and flared with 
 strange and ghostly gleams. 
 
 She ran back to the sleeping countess, and by the 
 lurid light saw that she was smiling in her sleep. 
 
 ' Wake ! wake ! Oh, Emma ! dear countess ! this 
 is no night for sleep. Methinks the dawn is like to 
 bring the last dread day ! Alas ! she sleeps like a 
 young infant that knows not danger or woe. Wake, 
 Emma ! Thy life may hang on it ! ' 
 
 Then the countess, opening her eyes dreamily, mur-
 
 274 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 
 
 mured, ' Thou hast brought good succour, Ralph ! ' The 
 next moment she started up, ' Mary Mother ! what is 
 it, child?' 
 
 'There is murder in the air, Emma! See, the very 
 sky is full of tokens. Listen ! listen ! Oh, saints in 
 heaven ! how they scream ! ' 
 
 They did indeed ! The countess sprang from the 
 bed and rushed to the window also. 
 
 ' They have fired the town ! ' she cried ; ' they have 
 fired the town ! — the Saxon quarter ! Sir Hoel said 
 they would ! ' 
 
 ' The Saxon quarter ! Oh, my home, my home ! ' cried 
 Eadgyth, and, pressing her hands to her ears in a vain 
 effort to shut out the shrieks of the sufferers, she 
 cowered, with closed eyes, upon the floor. 
 
 ' Let us go to the great portal of the keep, whence we 
 can see it,' said the countess. 
 
 'See it!' cried Eadgyth. ' Ah, Emma, no ! I could 
 not look ! It would kill me.' 
 
 But Emma went forth boldly, intent to know if any- 
 thing could be done to rescue the victims. 
 
 Norwich in those days was an open town. The walls 
 and towers, of which portions still remain to gladden 
 the eyes of archaeologists, were not built till some fifty 
 years later, so that it was not possible to defend the 
 town itself Moreover, although the earl had found 
 supporters amongst the Saxon and Anglo-Danish in- 
 habitants of the older quarters, numbering more than 
 one relative of Harold Godwinsson, the majority of the 
 Norman denizens of the New Burg around the Chapel-
 
 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 275 
 
 in-thc-Ficld remained loyal to William, and were ready 
 to give all help to the besiegers. For this reason was it 
 that the western sky had but flickered with the reflections 
 of flames. It was the Saxon quarter by the river, the 
 wooden tenements in King Street, which provided fuel 
 for the bonfire. 
 
 Looking east from the portal of the great tower, a 
 grand and terrible spectacle confronted the beholders. 
 
 Crackling flames shot up against the dark midnight 
 sky, dancing like living demons of fiery destruction, 
 and sinking only to lick the doomed houses with their 
 scorching tongues and spring up higher than ever. 
 Every now and again some beam or stone would burst 
 with a sharp report, throwing blazing fragments into the 
 air ; and the volumes of smoke rolled far into the night, 
 lurid with the red glare of the flames. Moats and 
 marshes and river gleamed and sparkled weirdly with 
 the light of destruction, so that the ground was broken 
 by inverted images of fiery tongues ; and it seemed, 
 indeed, as if the nether world — so ardently believed in 
 by those who were watching as a material hell of fire 
 and brimstone — had broken bounds, and was let loose 
 to destroy the world. 
 
 But most awful was it to see the small black 
 figures that every now and again raised wild arms 
 against the flare of the fire ; most awful was it to 
 here the screams that ever\- now and again rose 
 above the dull roar and crackle and hiss of the 
 destroying element. 
 
 When such figures were seen, and such sounds heard,
 
 276 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 
 
 curses and execrations burst from the white Hps of 
 the soldiers who were crowding the eastern walls of 
 Blauncheflour, and the knights who had assembled 
 before the portal of the keep. 
 
 As the countess came down amongst them, she could 
 not repress an exclamation of horror, for never in her 
 life had she beheld anything so awful. 
 
 Sir Hoel de St. Brice came instantly to her side. 
 
 'Alas, dear lady! this is no scene for thee. Return 
 to thy bower. There is no danger for the castle.' 
 
 * My place is here, Sir Hoel,' said Emma firmly. 'I 
 am Castellan of this castle. The battle is not always to 
 the strong. See, yonder flames hissing through the air 
 are more terrible than a hundred mailed warriors ! The 
 flame of wit is given to woman as well as to man ! ' 
 
 ' William's men are doing thee homage, noble countess,' 
 said De Gourin, with a sneer. * These are finer bonfires 
 than the good people of Norwich lighted on the night 
 of thy arrival in their town ! ' 
 
 Emma turned from him with a shudder of disgust. 
 
 ' How hath this been accomplished. Sir Hoel ? ' she 
 asked of the older knight. ' By what means hath the 
 fire been enkindled ? ' 
 
 ' The king's men are provided with mighty engines,' 
 answered Sir Hoel. ' Never have I seen mangonel or 
 balista that carried so far. They are throwing red-hot 
 stones and balls of lead from them, and the old houses 
 yonder have been so well dried by the sun of late, that 
 they burn like tinder. See,' he added, pointing out 
 some glowing stars in the south-east, which Emma had
 
 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 277 
 
 not before distinguished from the burning fragments 
 tossed aloft by the action of the flame, ' their fiery- 
 hail continues even now. They have got possession of 
 the Cyning Ford, and are flinging their missiles from 
 across the river.' 
 
 ' And are we to stand here and gape at them, and do 
 nought to stop them?' demanded the countess eagerly. 
 'Good St. Nicholas! how the cattle bellow in the 
 castle meadow ! Are the poor beasts in danger ? ' 
 
 'The fire frightens them, and no wonder ! ' answered 
 Sir Hocl. ' But they are in safety, unless, perhaps, some 
 fragment, here and there, may be carried from the fire, 
 and somewhat scorch their hides. As for thy former 
 question, I see not that anything can be done. Having 
 possession of the ford, I know not how we can dislodge 
 them.' 
 
 ' It would be but throwing away good lives to attempt 
 it,' said De Gourin, who cared little whether a few Saxons 
 more or less were burned on their own hearthstones. 
 
 ' Eadgyth ! ' exclaimed the countess impetuously to 
 her bower-maiden, who had followed her, notwithstand- 
 ing her terror, ' hast thou not told me there was a 
 way through the marshes, that Harold used against the 
 Vikings ? ' 
 
 Eadgyth, with wild eyes and teeth chattering in the 
 extremity of her horror, gazed at the countess as if her 
 fear had taken away her reason. 
 
 The countess repeated her question, and hLadgyth, 
 with an effort, forced herself to attend. 
 
 'Ay, that is so. My kinsman Lcofric would be
 
 278 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 
 
 familiar with it. lie has iouglit every inch of this 
 ground against the Danes under your lord ! ' she 
 said. 
 
 ' Where is this Leofric ? Let him be summoned,' 
 commanded the countess. 
 
 ' He is yonder helping his countrymen to save their 
 skins from the fire,' said Sir Alain contemptuously. 
 
 Again the countess commanded, ' Let him be sum- 
 moned ! ' 
 
 And when, not long after, Leofric Ealdredsson stood 
 before her, still breathing hard after his exertions, his 
 face begrimed with dust and smoke, and the wild fire- 
 light gleaming on his tore and mail corselet and bracelets, 
 she asked him if he knew of any way by which he could 
 steal unperceived through the marshes, and take the 
 artillerymen of the foe by surprise. 
 
 ' By Asgaard ! yes ! ' exclaimed Leofric, turning to 
 De Gourin. ' And so I told this fair sir an hour ago, 
 and offered to show him how he might take them in 
 flank, and stuff their accursed red-hot balls down their 
 own throats ; or I would have taken a band under my 
 own order, twenty of my house-carles, if he would add 
 twenty stout men from the garrison. But he would 
 hear none of it.' 
 
 ' We shall be the safer that the buildings yonder are 
 burned,' said De Gourin. ' Why throw away good lives 
 to stop it? ' 
 
 ' Why was I not told of this suggestion ? ' asked Sir 
 Hoel, frowning. ' Thou takest over much upon thyself, 
 Sir Alain ! '
 
 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 279 
 
 ' Grant mc the men now, countess ! ' said Leofric 
 eagerly. 
 
 ' My lord owed his life to thee, Leofric Ealdredsson ! ' 
 answered the countess. ' I know I may trust thee ! 
 Take thy stout carles, and twenty men beside.' 
 
 * Ahoi ! By Freya ! thou art a pearl among women ! ' 
 cried the wild Leofric, who was much of a Viking 
 himself. 
 
 ' Ah, kinsman Leofric, leave those heathen names 
 alone ! ' said Eadgyth. ' Thou hast a better symbol in 
 the hilt of thy sword ! ' 
 
 But he had not stopped to listen to her. He had 
 gone off to call his carles together, and to choose his 
 twenty men from the garrison. 
 
 And some forty of them, for the most part Anglo- 
 Danes or Saxons, left the castle a {q.\v minutes later, 
 leaving by the western horn of the barbican, and 
 making their way by the streets north of the castle, by 
 Tombland, to the river ; slipping along through the firc- 
 lightcd night with a panther-like trot on their silent 
 shoes of untanncd leather, their trusty seaxes in their 
 right hands, and their round red shields on their left 
 arms. 
 
 Arrived at the river, they possessed themselves of 
 boats without particularly asking the leave of the 
 owners, and crossed over to the marshes on the eastern 
 bank, leaving a man in each boat to guard it. They 
 crept through the rushes, as only men who had grown 
 up amid the fens could have done, and fell upon the 
 unsuspecting Normans like thunderbolts ; knocked their
 
 28o THE ORDEAL B V FIRE. 
 
 balistas to fragments, served a good many of their men 
 likewise, and returned as they came to the west bank of 
 the river. 
 
 Then they added their strength to that of the towns- 
 folk to fight the flames, and, by means of clearing large 
 spaces to windward of the burning houses, stopped the 
 fire from spreading its ravages indefinitely. But five 
 less returned through the castle gate than had left it. 
 
 So went the first day and the first night of the siege. 
 
 When day broke, the attack on the barbican began 
 again, and so it was for five days afterward ; but at the 
 end of the sixth the barricades were almost battered 
 down, and strong bridges were established across the 
 ditch, so that the defenders thought it wise to abandon 
 it to the enemy, as scarcely worth the lives it would cost 
 to maintain possession of it. But this meant no very 
 great advantage to the besiegers. 
 
 They stood before the great gate of the castle, the 
 actual entrance to which looked like a mere mouse-hole 
 between the sheer strong walls of its two flanking towers. 
 They well knew the make of such gateways : their fold- 
 ing-doors of solid oak, strengthened with bars and bolts 
 of iron, and studded with huge nails to prevent the 
 cutting out of a panel or staving in of the same ; the 
 strong portcullis behind them, a harrow-shaped iron 
 grating, to be let up and down in a moment by means 
 of pulleys from the inside ; above the doors a row of 
 chimney-like apertures, called machicolations, through 
 which the defenders could pour scalding water, molten 
 lead, or any other deadly matter, upon the devoted heads
 
 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 281 
 
 of the assaulting column, who were exposed also to a 
 cross fire of quarrels, stones, and other missiles from the 
 flanking towers. 
 
 Truly, to assault such a portal was no child's play, 
 even with such aid as could be given by the rude 
 artillery of the times : petronels and agerons for throw- 
 ing stones and leaden pellets, catapultas for shooting 
 arrows, and the trebuchettum, or warrewolf, specially 
 designed for the smashing in of gates and walls ; all 
 these, and more of their kind, the king's men were well 
 provided with. 
 
 Stout Earl Warrenne, and the astute Bishop of 
 Coutances, and the accomplished lance, Robert Malet, 
 held many a consultation as they rode round the in- 
 vested fortress, and scanned it eagerly to see if haply 
 they might discover some weak point which should give 
 them advantage in the attack. 
 
 But they decided that they must become masters of 
 the great gate, and so of the ditch, before they could 
 make any assault on the castle itself 
 
 A month had passed away before they were so 
 masters ; but being so, they had their opponents in a 
 veritable trap. The besieged knew well that a harder 
 struggle than ever lay before them in their awful isola- 
 tion, cut off from communion with their fellow-creatures 
 by a wall of human fury as effectually as if they had 
 been wrecked on some desert island in that vast ocean 
 of the west, the opposite shores of which were all 
 unknown to them, though its great eastern rollers 
 dashed in spray upon the Breton and Norman coasts.
 
 282 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 
 
 Through all this weary time of fear and suspense, 
 with its harassing duties and oppressive sorrows, the 
 Countess Emma found comfort in two dumb friends : 
 Oliver, the earl's Spanish destrier, who had been left in 
 the fortress when De Guader embarked for Denmark ; 
 and the brave tassel-gentle, that had been Ralph's gift to 
 her upon the day on which she had promised to share 
 his fortunes, good or ill. 
 
 Oliver had been restored to his master, after he had 
 been struck down by Odo's mace, by one of those strange 
 accidents which seem to have the finger of fate in them. 
 Some of the old thegn Ealdred's men had visited the battle- 
 field several days after the fight, to see how the land lay 
 and what the king's men were doing. They were attacked 
 by a band of Norman soldiers, headed by a knight who 
 was mounted on a splendid destrier. The animal was 
 full of strength and courage, but the rider being, as they 
 afterwards found, one Stephen Main-de-fer, a parvenu 
 who had made his fortune out of the woes of England, 
 like so many of his countrymen, and who had won his 
 spurs without having learned to ride, instead of pro- 
 fiting by the noble booty that had fallen to his share, 
 was brought to his ruin thereby ; for the fiery barb, 
 unused to such handling as he gave it, and doubtless 
 wondering, like Johnny Gilpin's steed, ' what thing upon 
 his back had got,' became unmanageable in the excite- 
 ment of the fray, and threw his clumsy new master 
 heavily to the earth. There he lay sprawling, as little 
 versed in carrying his armour as in managing his horse, 
 and Ealdred's men did not lose their opportunity of
 
 THE ORDEAL B Y FIRE. 283 
 
 despatching him. After a short struggle, his followers 
 beat their retreat, and the destrier fell into the hands of 
 the Anglo-Danes, who took him back with them to their 
 refuge in the Fens, where he was immediately recognised 
 with much jubilation by Grillonnc, and restored to his 
 master. 
 
 So it came to pass that Ralph dc Guader had been 
 able to ride back into Blauncheflour on his trusty 
 Oliver. 
 
 Since the earl had quitted the castle, Emma had 
 visited the barb morning and night, and had taken him 
 many a dainty wastel cake or sugary comfit such as 
 horses love ; and, stroking his satin neck with many an 
 endearment, longed for the time when she should sec 
 his master on his back again. A time which would 
 never come ! 
 
 At such moments she would often have the tassel- 
 gentle on her wrist, and the bird seemed almost human, 
 so intelligent and tame was he. 
 
 She needed some comfort, for she had one great 
 sorrow. The gentle and loving Dame Amicia dc 
 Reviers, who had watched over her from her cradle, was 
 stricken down by paralysis, and a few days later died. 
 It was really but the natural end of a long and happy 
 life; but Emma, in the mood for self-torture, blamed 
 herself for having dragged the aged dame into tumult 
 and terror, and shed tears that were beyond the usual 
 bitterness of grief She was buried in the holy precincts 
 of St. Martin at Bayle, which stood before the castle 
 gate, the bi;siegers granting a truce for the occasion,
 
 284 THE ORDEAL BY FIRE. 
 
 with that chivalrous courtesy that was so oddly mixed 
 with the ferocity of the times. 
 
 So the king's men and the earl's met in friendly sym- 
 pathy one day, and prepared for bitter contest on the 
 morrow, when the besiegers planned to make assault 
 upon the walls themselves. 
 
 Within the castle all was bustle and business. Harness 
 was mended and bullets were moulded, bows restrung 
 and arrows feathered, axes and swords whirred on the 
 grindstone, huge cauldrons were prepared wherein to 
 heat water to pour upon besiegers' heads ; and even 
 the countess and her ladies helped to carry stones with 
 their own fair hands, and pile them ready for the use of 
 the slingers. 
 
 Meanwhile the swallows wheeled and twittered over- 
 head as they wheel and twitter now ; and down in the 
 woods the merles and mavises sang on undisturbed by 
 the tumult, while swans were marshalling green-grey 
 cygnets across the pools in the marshes of the Cowhohne.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 
 
 The besiegers on their part had not been idle. They 
 had established quite a meiiagery of mechanical con- 
 trivances, rejoicing in the zoological names of tortoises, 
 sows, and cats, to protect their approaches to the 
 white walls of Blauncheflour, and under cover of these 
 they had cut a channel to the castle ditch and drained 
 the water from it, so that it was as dry as at present, 
 though, instead of growing fair greenery of bushes and 
 flowers, it showed a bottom of parched, foetid mud 
 under the hot summer sun. 
 
 They had thrown up large mounds of earth at 
 intervals around the ballium, and upon these had 
 built up towers of wood overtopping the walls. These 
 were furnished with drawbridges which could be let 
 down at pleasure upon the merlons of the battle- 
 ments, so to give ingress to their men-at-arms ; their 
 upper storeys serving to shelter archers and slingers, 
 while from the lower, battering-rams were sturdily 
 plied, and the warrewolvcs flung their stones and 
 balls of lead. 
 
 2S5
 
 286 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 
 
 These towers had cost them many good lives, for not 
 one had been estabh'shed without a fierce struggle. 
 Sally after sally had been made from the castle, but, 
 in the end, numbers prevailed, and at last their imperti- 
 nent wooden crests were reared above the Caen stone 
 of Blauncheflour. 
 
 Those within were, however, more troubled by the 
 mines which their assailants had run from the bottom 
 of the moat beneath the foundations of the castle ; for 
 although these had been met by countermines, and many 
 a furious combat had taken place in these uncanny lists, 
 each mine meant a point to be guarded with jealous 
 care, and was a source of weakness and anxiety ; de- 
 manding exhausting sentry duty from the already over- 
 burdened garrison. 
 
 The countess found her office of Castellan no sinecure. 
 The motley garrison were anything but homogeneous. 
 All manner of petty jealousies, personal and national, 
 raged among them. The Normans were jealous of the 
 Bretons, and the Bretons blustered about independence, 
 boasting that they were 'no man's men;' while the 
 Saxons hated them both, and regarded their refinements 
 as dandyisms and their courtesies as cant; and the 
 Normans and the Bretons both looked down upon the 
 Saxons as savages, and gibed at their priest-bestowed 
 knighthood ; so that, on the whole, they were as much 
 inclined to fight against each other as against the king's 
 forces outside the walls, and sometimes actually came 
 to blows. 
 
 However, the countess set her woman's wit to weigh
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 287 
 
 these quarrelsome gentlemen against each other, and 
 managed to do it, owing to the three-sidedness of the 
 situation. 
 
 After all, their want of unity had its advantages, as 
 they never ' went solid ' in any direction, except under 
 the self-evident necessity of defending their lives and 
 the castle. 
 
 Still, at times, Emma grew very weary, and almost 
 failed under the burden she had taken upon her slender 
 shoulders, feeling terribly feeble and lonely and out of 
 her depth. 
 
 Sir Hoel dc St. Brice was her chiefest comfort and 
 principal counsellor. The old knight had come to 
 regard her with absolute veneration and the deepest 
 affection, and in him she felt that she had a true and 
 sincere friend. 
 
 His zeal for the earl's cause nearly equalled her own. 
 To say that he would have given his life for it would 
 express little, for all in the garrison were formally 
 pledged to do that ; but he had no other object in 
 life. 
 
 Emma had sought the earliest opportunity to tell him 
 the circumstances under which she had discovered the 
 imprisonment of Sir Aimand dc Sourdeval, and to 
 repeat his account of the foul treatment he had met 
 with from De Gourin. 
 
 ' Unknightly ! ' he had said, — ' from first to last 
 unknightly. But what would you have? Can a man 
 who sells his lance to the first bidder, without inquiry 
 into the justice of his cause, be a true knight?' Alto-
 
 288 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 
 
 gather he gave evidence of shrewd indignation, but no 
 keen surprise. 
 
 ' I love not the mercenary,' he answered, ' and wish 
 that he had not so high a command in the garrison. 
 I know well that he had no great liking for the young 
 Norman prudhomme, whose boyish enthusiasms were 
 stronger than his prudence, and led him to throw taunts 
 at Sir Alain's thick head, all the more galling that they 
 were barbed with truth.' 
 
 But he agreed that, under the circumstances, it was 
 best to let matters stand ; De Gourin was evidently of 
 the same opinion, and, save for a few veiled gibes at the 
 magnanimity of the countess, made no reference to the 
 freeing of the young knight. 
 
 Sir Aimand, for his part, had a dismal time of it, and 
 almost wished himself back in his dungeon, securely 
 chained by the leg. 
 
 As soon as his health began to mend, which was 
 speedily enough, under the combined influences of good 
 food, good air, and the sight of his lady's face, Eadgyth 
 withdrew that last and sweetest influence. 
 
 For she was determined by no word or look of hers 
 to tempt him to be untrue to his high standard of 
 honour, and she felt on her own part more Saxon than 
 ever, and judged the gulf between them impassable, save 
 by the wreckage of the ideals of both ; and therefore 
 she deemed that to bestow her company upon him 
 would be but cruel kindness. 
 
 So the poor knight mooned about in solitary medita- 
 tion, and his returning strength made inaction a verit-
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 2S9 
 
 able purgatory to him. To hear blows going, and have- 
 no hand in giving or taking them, was truly about the 
 cruellest torture that could have been invented for one 
 of his order and temper in those days when Christians 
 still thirsted for the Valhalla of the old Norsemen, 
 wherein the immortal heroes were healed of their 
 wounds at night that they might slay each other over 
 again in the morning. 
 
 Again and again he was on the point of throwing 
 his scruples to the wind, and buckling on sword and 
 helm in defence of the generous dame who had given 
 him his freedom so unconditionally. Again and again 
 he restrained himself, and did penance by fasting and 
 prayer, wishing the while that she had left him in 
 durance, so he had escaped such doubting and search- 
 ing of heart. 
 
 Nor did he find much peace in Hall. Norman, 
 Breton, and Saxon were all against him. Gibes and 
 jeers were his portion. They called him the ' ladies' 
 tame tiercel,' the ' gamecock without spurs,' the 
 ' dancing bear,' and a hundred other names suggestive 
 of carpet-knight-errantry. Then his fists would ball 
 and his clear-cut, high-bred face grow white with anger, 
 though he never made reply, as he felt it an evident 
 point of honour that, being a prisoner on parole, he 
 might neither risk his own person, which carried value 
 for ransom, nor seek to injure any of the garrison. 
 
 But on the eve of the assault, when the countess was 
 holding council with Sir Hocl dc St. Brice, attended 
 only by Eadgyth, the young Norman prayed audience
 
 290 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 
 
 of her, and on its being granted strode into the chamber 
 with curiously flashing eyes. 
 
 ' I beseech thee, noble Emma, to furnish me with an 
 helm and an hauberk, and the sharpest sword thou 
 canst spare out of thine armoury, and I will put them 
 to a good use in thy service,' he said, with speech that 
 was rather too hasty to be clear. 
 
 'Hast found thy senses at last, brave sir?' demanded 
 Sir Hoel, smiling indulgently, for he had always liked 
 the young knight. 
 
 But Eadgyth noticed his flushed cheek and excited 
 mien with a chill dread at her heart. Was he about to 
 be false to the noble ideals for which he had endured 
 so much, or — saints in Heaven forfend ! — did his ex- 
 aggerated love to his suzerain lead him to contemplate 
 a baser falseness still, and so confuse his mind that he 
 should fancy it would be virtue to betray the castle ? 
 Her cousin Leofric had said more than once, that only 
 a woman playing Castellan would be so imprudent as 
 to allow one holding so invidious a position as did De 
 Sourdeval, to be free of the castle and aware of all its 
 secrets ; and though at the time she had cried shame 
 on his mean suspicions, the words had rested in her 
 mind with the burr-like persistency characteristic of 
 such suggestions of evil. 
 
 The countess, however, looked at him with her frank 
 glad eyes, and rejoiced, for she had always hoped that 
 the time would come when he would repay her 
 generosity with complete allegiance, and she was about 
 to reply unconditionally, 'Ay, that will I.'
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 291 
 
 But before she could speak, Sir Aimand continued, 
 ' I ask thee more. I want not only arms for myself, 
 but twenty men to back me.' 
 
 Sir Hocl looked grave, and lifted his bushy white 
 eyebrows high in astonishment. 
 
 ' Pick men of whose fidelity you are assured,' Sir 
 Aimand cried. ' Let Leofric Ealdredsson go with me. 
 Thou knowest he has no liking for me, and is in no 
 way in collusion with me, sith there is race hatred 
 between us and rivalry in love.' 
 
 ' Rivalry in love!' exclaimed Emma, turning c^uickly 
 to Eadgyth, and the cheeks of the Saxon maiden 
 burned scarlet under her gaze, but not more redly than 
 those of the knight, who had exposed his jealousy 
 unawares. 
 
 ' I should not have said rivalry,' he amended hastily, 
 'sith I have no claim.' 
 
 Eadgyth was in a difficult position. If she made the 
 protest her heart urged, that Leofric was her cousin and 
 nothing more, and never could be more, she would give 
 Sir Aimand an encouragement which was cruel. If she 
 did not make it, she let that be believed which she 
 imagined had no foundation in fact. 
 
 Emma saved her from need of reply. 
 
 ' Upon the honour of Leofric Ealdredsson I can rely,' 
 she said, 'whether he have cause to like or mislike thy 
 person, fair knight. What more hast thou to ask ? ' 
 
 ' That he, with twenty of his stout Anglo-Danes, may 
 be put under my guidance, with instructions to hew me 
 in sunder if I in an}' way show token of treachery. I
 
 292 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 
 
 can serve thee best if none know of this matter, nor the 
 end in view, save Leofric alone. But this I will say in 
 explanation, there is a traitor in thy camp, and I would 
 fain foil him. I cannot fight under thy banner, noble 
 countess, but it accords with my vow of chivalry to save 
 thee from foul betrayal.' 
 
 ' Let Leofric Ealdredsson be summoned, Sir Hoel,' 
 said the countess. 
 
 And in the end De Sourdeval obtained his boon. 
 
 Knowing what had been granted to the Norman, and 
 that Leofric and his stout carles would not have accepted 
 service under him unless with some prospect of stiff 
 work to follow, Sir Hoel was somewhat surprised to see 
 the Anglo-Danes linger later than usual over the wassail 
 bowl in Hall that even, seeing too that on the morrow 
 it was certain that shrewd blows would be going, and all 
 heads wanted clear. 
 
 Sir Alain de Gourin thought fit to rebuke them. 
 ' For as thick skulls as your battle-axes there may 
 boast, Childe Leofric,' he said, ' they had best have 
 wakeful wits under them by dawn.' And he set a 
 worthy example by leaving the revel. 
 
 His most important followers slipped after, first one 
 and then another, but still the Vikings drank on, and 
 Sir Hoel began to have queer doubts of the wisdom of 
 granting the whimsical De Sourdeval control over such 
 a crew, and determined to watch them out. 
 
 Presently in came Sir Aimand, wrapped in a long 
 cloak, with a hood over his head, and whispered to 
 Leofric, —
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 293 
 
 ' The big rat has gone into his hole.' 
 
 And Leofric wagged his yellow beard approvingly, 
 and rose up, tall and strong, with a rattle of mail and 
 bracelets, and took his great two-handed axe and strode 
 with De Sourdeval out of the hall ; and Sir Hotil saw 
 that under De Sourdeval's cloak was a mail hauberk 
 and steel headpiece. 
 
 Then one after another the Anglo-Danes picked 
 themselves out of the rushes, whither they had subsided 
 to save the trouble of falling, and went out also, with 
 strange steadiness for tipsy men. 
 
 And De Sourdeval led Leofric to a mine that had 
 been run to meet one dug by the enemy on the north- 
 west side of the castle, near the chiefest of the wall 
 towers, and two dozen good men and true were at their 
 back. 
 
 They went down into the darkness, dimly lighted 
 with rude lanterns, and they found the watch were one 
 and all Breton mercenaries. These one after another 
 they stealthily seized, gagged before they could make 
 outcry, bound, and carried up into the outer air, setting 
 their own men in their stead. Then they crouched 
 down and waited at the extremity of the mine, where it 
 met the Norman parallels. 
 
 And after a while they heard sounds approaching. 
 The clink and chink of weapons and mail and the 
 muffled beat of creeping footsteps. 
 
 ' Remember — Sir Alain to me,' hissed De Sourdeval 
 in a hoarse whisper, — ' Sir Alain and his traitors. I 
 strike no blow ac^ainst the king's true men.'
 
 294 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 
 
 ' By Odin ! all's fish that comes to my net. Breton 
 or Norman, what have they to do in Harold's Norwich ? ' 
 returned Leofric savagely. 'But I'll not poach on thy 
 manors. Sir Alain to thee.' 
 
 Two minutes later, the Breton mercenary, leading the 
 foe with whom he had traitorously compounded to save 
 his own skin, was startled to meet the fierce white face 
 of Sir Aimand instead of the friendly countenance of 
 one of his own ruffians. 
 
 'Ha! caught in thine own burrow, despicable rat!' 
 shouted the Norman, and the next moment they 
 were hewing at each other with the fury of a long 
 hatred. 
 
 De Gourin had the disadvantage of surprise, and he 
 lost his head and struck wildly. De Sourdeval got 
 within his guard, and the next moment the Breton rolled 
 heavily to earth. 
 
 Over his dead body waged a fierce battle, but it was 
 not maintained for long. The besiegers, expecting to 
 be led straight into the heart of the castle, were not 
 prepared for the determined resistance they met with 
 thus at the outset, and credited the Bretons with 
 decoying them into a trap. The latter were therefore 
 the chief combatants, for their case was desperate. 
 They were between two foes, and scarce one of 
 them escaped alive ; nor did Sir Aimand find any 
 great difficulty in keeping his vow to deal with them 
 alone. 
 
 So Sir Aimand slew his enemy in the bowels of the 
 earth ; the man through whose treachery he had been
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 295 
 
 forced to live for so many long clays as deeply buried 
 from the free air and cheerful light of day. Yet the 
 personal quarrel was merged in a greater cause, and in 
 revenging his own wrong he was saving the brave 
 Countess Emma and the lady of his love, with all the 
 womanhood in the castle, from the horrors of a sudden 
 sack. 
 
 When the garrison heard of this feat which ' the 
 ladies' tame tiercel' and 'the Danish wolf had carried 
 through between them, the enthusiasm knew no bounds, 
 and the curses and maledictions that were poured on 
 the senseless head of the treacherous Breton knew no 
 bounds either, till Sir Aimand said, — 
 
 ' The greater his sins, the greater need we pray 
 for him,' and ordered masses for the dead man's soul 
 at his own expense, so putting bitter tongues to 
 shame. 
 
 The countess came down into the great hall and met 
 the heroes of the hour with shining eyes and heartfelt 
 thanks ; but, to say truth, they were both more anxious 
 for kind glances and sweet praise from her Saxon 
 bower-maiden, and their eyes went round the hall in 
 search of her. But she was not there ; she had slipped 
 away to ask the chaplain to set her penances for having 
 entertained suspicions of an innocent person. 
 
 Perhaps none felt deeper indignation against the 
 foiled traitor than those of the Breton mercenaries whom 
 he had not included in his band of deserters. If his 
 plot had been successful, they would probably have 
 suffered most of all in the garrison, for mercenaries are
 
 
 -96 A SUBTERRANEAN CONFLICT. 
 
 rolling stones who make enemies wherever they go, and 
 whose services being paid for in cash and plunder, win 
 no gratitude even from those they defend. They knew 
 well that if the besiegers got the upper hand, it would 
 go hard with them. 
 
 Therefore they stood aghast when they heard of the 
 treachery of their leader and of those of their comrades 
 who had been with him, feeling that treachery to be in 
 a manner twofold towards themselves. They gathered 
 round De Sourdeval asking eager questions. 
 
 ' How had he discovered the plot ? Had he known 
 it long? What proofs had he to support his asser- 
 tion ? ' 
 
 To which he made reply that he had not known it 
 long, only an hour or two before his counterplot was 
 framed and executed, and it had come to his knowledge 
 in this wise. A certain soldier in De Gourin's band had 
 been Sir Aimand's warder during his imprisonment in 
 the dungeons of the castle, and it seemed that the man 
 had conceived a great affection for him. Being one of 
 the sentries whose duty it was to guard the mine, he 
 had received instructions from De Gourin to admit the 
 king's troops, and was perforce made privy to the 
 nefarious designs of the leader. 
 
 Believing De Sourdeval to be hostile to the garrison, 
 and wishing to do him a good turn, he had told 
 him of the scheme on hand, and had undertaken to 
 procure a disguise for him, so that he might pass 
 out amid De Gourin's band. The man would tell 
 them the story himself; he now lay bound in the
 
 A SUBTERRANEAN CONEI.ICT. 2C)7 
 
 courtyard of the castle with the rest of the Breton 
 sentries. 
 
 The next day Sir Ainiand returned to the countess 
 the arms with which she had provided him fronn the 
 castle armoury, holding fast to his resolution not to 
 bear them against the king's forces.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 HOW OLIVER DIED. 
 
 But there was little time for asking questions and 
 making inquiries, or for celebrating the exploits of 
 heroes, Norman or Anglo-Dane. 
 
 The morning light was creeping up the east, and the 
 chirp and twitter of wakening sparrows was the signal 
 for the battering-rams and pickers to commence their 
 ominous clatter. 
 
 The attack was made at several points simultaneously; 
 and all the strength of the garrison, weakened as it 
 was by the losses of a month of strife, was needed on 
 the walls. 
 
 From every loophole the archers and slingers aimed 
 whizzing arrows and hurtling stones upon the columns 
 of the assailants, and from between the merlons great 
 sacks of wool and horsehair w^ere suspended to protect 
 the walls from the battering-rams, while huge logs of 
 timber w^ere hurled upon the pickers. Molten lead and 
 boiling water was poured down upon the heads of the 
 besiegers like a veritable hell-rain. 
 
 But for all their efforts the assault made pro- 
 gress. In two distinct places the walls were so 
 
 29S
 
 HOW OLIVER DIED. 299 
 
 battered that horsemen could have ridden through the 
 breach. 
 
 The garrison did their best to throw up earthworks 
 inside the broken walls, and fought valiantly to defend 
 them, sallying forth at intervals with the impetus of 
 men who felt their case desperate. 
 
 But the besiegers fought with fury also. They were 
 weary of dallying week after week before the walls of 
 a castle which was under the command of a woman, 
 and were determined to get the mastery, if energy and 
 valour could accomplish it. 
 
 The countess, mounting tlie battlements of the keep 
 one day, that she might sec for herself the working 
 of the mighty engines which were plied against her 
 stronehold, had seen ICarl William de Warrenne and 
 Robert Malet standing together in one of the wooden 
 towers already described. As she bent forward to look 
 below, a stone from a petronel struck the wall not far 
 beneath her, and the fragments and dust flew into 
 her face and upon the wall on which her hand had 
 rested. 
 
 Her noble adversaries, who were watching her, could 
 not repress an exclamation of dismay at this ; but 
 Emma, without blenching, took her kerchief from her 
 gipsire and nonchalantly dusted the walls with it. 
 
 'You do well to fight a housewife with dust, fair 
 ■ sirs!' she cried, sending a mocking peal of silver)- 
 laughter to follow her words. 
 
 Such taunts were not unheeded or forgiven. They 
 helped to nerve the leaders who led the attack ; and
 
 300 HOW OLIVER DIED. 
 
 they were men who were accustomed to lead their men 
 to victory. On this day the chequered shield of Earl 
 Warrenne pressed forward as if it were possessed of 
 magic powers, which made it proof against every blow, 
 and wherever it went it had eager followers ; while 
 young Robert Malet showed himself the worthy son of 
 his great father. As for the Bishop of Coutances, he 
 contented himself with blessing the column before it 
 started, and reminding the soldiers that the brother 
 of the Countess Emma was an excommunicated 
 man. 
 
 Earl Warrenne strained every nerve to make the 
 assault a success. He led his men in person to the 
 breach ; and his strong voice dominated the tumult 
 with trumpet tones, as he cried, ' Dex aie ! For William 
 the Norman ! ' 
 
 ' A Warrenne ! a Warrenne ! ' responded his men, as 
 they struggled forward over the counter-scarp, under a 
 pelting hail of arrows and javelins from the battle- 
 ments. 
 
 Within the breach stood Leofric Ealdredsson, holding 
 his great double-edged axe in his hand, with his men 
 arranged in a Saxon wedge, the front row kneeling, 
 with shield touching shield, and a forest of spears 
 bristling out above them, like the spines of a porcupine. 
 They answered the Norman battle-cry with a wild 
 shout that made the walls ring again, and echoed up 
 the sides of the keep behind them, ' Ahoi ! ahoi ! A 
 Guader ! a Guader ! ' otherwise they were motionless 
 as statues.
 
 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 •A 
 
 o 
 
 a 
 3 

 
 HO IV OLIVER DIED. 301 
 
 Earl Warrenne had won experience of that formation 
 at Hastings, and he well knew how invulnerable it was, 
 and how the terrible seaxes could crash through helm 
 and hauberk. He knew how stratagem alone had 
 prevailed over it ; how pretended flight had cheated 
 the Saxons into pursuit, and how they had so foregone 
 their advantage ; and he determined to employ the 
 same device again. 
 
 So he leapt his horse in over the shattered wall, and 
 his men-at-arms followed him, but spent their force in 
 vain on the living rampart before them ; more than one 
 reeled with cleft helmet from the saddle, and Warrenne 
 himself wavered and turned. 
 
 Seeing their leader give way, the band broke and 
 pressed tumultuously back over the temporary draw- 
 bridge thrown across the waterless moat for their use ; 
 and Leofric and his men sprang forward to pursue 
 them. 
 
 Then Warrenne turned again w ith a fierce rallying 
 cry, and his knights, used to strict discipline, and 
 instantly understanding his aim, turned with him, and, 
 as at Hastings, the advantage was won. It was a 
 hazardous experiment, but it had succeeded. 
 
 Man to man the battleaxes and spearmen were no 
 match for the mailed and mounted Normans. The 
 struggle was bitter. Horses and knights, Normans 
 and English, fell cursing and kicking from the bridge 
 into the moat. But Earl Warrenne, with a bevy of 
 knights at his heels, made their way through the 
 breach, penetrating into the courtyard of the castle ;
 
 302 HO IV OLIVER DIED. 
 
 while Leofric lay senseless on the bridge, with his 
 yellow curls dangling over the edge, streaked with 
 crimson, and dripping red drops into the gulf below. 
 
 So the king's men had made their way within the 
 walls of Blauncheflour, after two months of strong 
 endeavour; and the sight of Warrenne's chequered 
 banner inside the defences they had held so man- 
 fully brought terror into the hearts of the besieged. 
 Their unnerved arms struck feeble blows; and the 
 king's knights rode them down, driving them to the 
 very stairway of the great entrance to the donjon 
 keep. 
 
 All at once, from above their heads came a clear 
 voice like a clarion, — 
 
 ' St. Nicholas for Guader ! A Guader ! a Guader ! 
 Shall your lord come back, and find his castle lost ? ' 
 
 There, on the platform before the grand entrance, 
 stood a white-robed figure, with uplifted arms and a 
 wildly shining face, which set the half-pagan Anglo- 
 Danes thinking of Valkyries and Norns, and the Bretons 
 and Normans of angels and saints ; but when they 
 recognised the face of Emma the countess, they 
 shouted a mighty shout, and the blood came back 
 into their hearts with a great glow of determination, 
 and they rushed once more fiercely against their 
 assailants. 
 
 ' I am here to see how bravely you maintain his cause 
 in his absence ! ' cried Emma from the portal. 
 
 Then the knights mixed in the wild iiuice at her 
 feet while the king's archers shot their whizzing shafts
 
 HOW OLIVER DIED. 303 
 
 from the wooden towers, and the king's sHngcrs hurled 
 their leaden balls and stones, fighting the men who 
 upheld the East Anglian banners on the walls. Whether 
 or no every arrow had its billet, as it is said every 
 bullet has in modern days, many an arrow flew far 
 beyond the men at whom it was aimed, and whistled 
 down into the courtyard. 
 
 As the besieged knights looked for inspiration to 
 their beloved Chatelaine, brimming over with the strong 
 desire to distinguish themselves before her eyes, they 
 saw a cloth-yard shaft fly straight to her white figure, 
 and strike the tender form they were burning to 
 protect, marring it with a crimson streak. A great 
 howl of rage rose up against the sky, and the 
 passion of vengeance nerved their arms with furious 
 force. 
 
 They sprang at the foe, who had also seen the 
 arrow strike its mark, and had paused a moment 
 in chivalrous horror, and so were unprepared to meet 
 the onslaught. Thus the tide of battle turned once 
 more, and l'2arl Warrenne and his followers were 
 driven out through the breach by which they had 
 entered. 
 
 Then, when the knights of the garrison rode back in 
 grievous haste to satisfy their anxiety for their lord's 
 bride, the countess still sood before the portal, laughing, 
 though the arrow stuck in her arm. 
 
 'See!' she said, 'it is nothing! Only a flesh- 
 wound. I have leeched a hundred worse.' 
 
 The Normans and the Bretons and the Saxons
 
 304 HOW OLIVER DIED. 
 
 all joined in tumultuous cheers, and vowed to save 
 their countess and their castle if they died to the last 
 man, 
 
 ' Mevci ! brave hearts!' cried the countess. 'That 
 was well spoken I Holy Mary grant my lord may 
 relieve us ere many days are past ! ' 
 
 Then they entreated her to have her wound looked 
 to ; and she swept away to the spital, and there had 
 the arrow cut out of her white arm, so all her wounded 
 warriors might see ; and the legend of her unflinching 
 courage spread like wildfire through the garrison, and 
 even into the camp of the besiegers without. 
 
 'By St. Michael!' cried Robert Malet, 'these 
 rebels seem to have the knack of coining heroines. 
 Thou and my father, Earl Warrenne, had shrewd 
 experience of Hereward's witch of a wife in the 
 Fenlands by Ely, — how she wound up the wild 
 galliards her husband got to follow him with her 
 sorceries and incantations till they were at the point 
 of madness ! Sooth, methinks we have to deal with 
 such another.' 
 
 Then Leofric Ealdredsson, who had been carried into 
 the camp, and lay within earshot, raised himself up and 
 swore mightily. 
 
 * No witch was Torfrida,' he cried in anger, ' but 
 as true and noble a woman as ever God made ! So 
 truly is De Guader's countess, Norman though she 
 be!' 
 
 At which the king's captains laughed, and turned to 
 Leofric.
 
 HOW OLIVER DIED. 
 
 J"-' J 
 
 'Ay! thou wast one of that pestilent Hcreward's 
 most saucy upholders, I well remember; and now 
 thou art leader in this hornet's nest also, I trow ! ' said 
 Earl William. ' Dost thou know the mark we are bid 
 to set on all our prisoners in this affair, to the end 
 that we may recognise them again when we meet 
 them ? ' 
 
 ' Do your worst, usurping couards ! ' answered the 
 furious Anglo-Dane. 'When Sweyn Ulfsson follows 
 De Guader home, and claims his own, and drives the 
 tanner's grandson from the throne he has stolen, 
 he will put Ins mark on you in return, I warrant 
 me!' 
 
 Malet's face grew dark ; for William himself and 
 William's followers resented no insult so deeply as an\- 
 allusion to the honest fell-monger of Falaise. 
 
 But Earl Warrenne was too wise to quarrel with a 
 wounded man, and said good-humouredly, — 
 
 ''Twould be a pity to lop a limb from so fine a 
 warrior as thyself, noble Leofric. Perhaps some excep- 
 tion can be made in this case. We are told that Sir 
 Aimand de Sourdeval is detained in Blauncheflour 
 against his will, and that he is faithful to the king. If 
 that be so, an exchange might be effected.' 
 
 Leofric, who did not relish the prospect of having 
 his right foot hewed off, courageous as he was, gasped 
 for joy at this proposition. It meant even more to 
 him than escape from cripplehood for life ; it meant 
 that he would regain entrance into Blauncheflour, 
 and be near the fair cousin who had become dear 
 
 U
 
 3o6 HOW OLIVER DIED. 
 
 to his heart, and that his rival would be parted 
 from her. 
 
 ' That is true,' he said eagerly. ' The knight is there, 
 and has refused to strike a blow against the king's 
 troops.' 
 
 Meanwhile the sun was sinking in the sky, and with 
 night came partial cessation of hostilities. The besieged 
 were holding council as to what step should next be 
 taken, but the counsellors had dwindled in number. Sir 
 Alain de Gourin was no longer there with his purple 
 face and blatant ways, but he could be better spared 
 than Leofric, and than several others who had fallen 
 during the month. 
 
 'We cannot hold the walls another day,' said Sir 
 Hoel sadly ; ' there is nothing for it but to retire 
 into the keep. It will take them some time to 
 dislodge us from thence ; the masonry is solid as the 
 earth.' 
 
 'And time is all we need!' exclaimed the countess 
 eagerly. She was very pale, and had her arm in 
 bandages, but her eyes were bright with fever and 
 determination, and she insisted on taking her part in the 
 discussion. ' My lord must soon be here.' 
 
 'We may hold the keep for months,' said a knight. 
 
 ' Yes, if manna would fall from heaven,' suggested 
 another jestingly ; ' else I fear we must needs eat each 
 other ere many moons had waned.' 
 
 'Gentlemen,' said Sir Hotil gravely, 'there is a means 
 by which we may increase our supplies a shade less 
 desperate than that.'
 
 HOW OLIVER DIED. 307 
 
 The countess turned to him with anxious curiosity. 
 Sir Hoel continued, — 
 
 ' We cannot stable all our horses in the keep, some 
 must be sacrificed ; better we kill them with our own 
 good swords, and salt their flesh, than let the king's men 
 have them. Horse-flesh may not be palatable, but at 
 least it would be better fare than picking each other's 
 bones. Relief may come before we need fall back on 
 such provender. Still, it will be there.' 
 
 A sick shudder of horror passed through Emma's 
 heart. Was famine indeed so near ? 
 
 The faces of the knights grew serious. No man 
 stood forward to proffer his own steed for the sacrifice. 
 More than one gave evidence, by trembling lip and 
 quickened breathing, of the hardness of the trial. For 
 those mailed warriors were a centaur race. Their steeds 
 were almost a part of themselves. Their lives were 
 constantly hanging on the qualities of their mounts. A 
 hard mouth or a nervous temper might bring them 
 their death any day, and docility and nimble limbs be 
 their safeguard. The horse became a trusted friend, 
 and a champion's destrier was often as celebrated as 
 himself. 
 
 The countess's lip trembled also, and her cheeks grew 
 even paler than before, while her heart throbbed in cruel 
 
 doubt. 
 
 For was not Oliver, the earl's noble Spanish war- 
 horse, in the castle? Had she not visited him morning 
 and night, and seen with her own eyes that he had his 
 due ration of corn, and that his satin skin was sleek as
 
 3o8 NOJV OLIVER DIED. 
 
 grooming could make it? Had she not patted his 
 splendid neck morn and night, and plaited his thick 
 mane, and had his velvet nose thrust into her soft palms 
 for an apple or a wastel cake ? She knew how the earl 
 loved the creature, and had misliked leaving him behind, 
 and she herself loved him both for his master's sake and 
 for his own. He seemed to her half human as she 
 thought of his intelligent eyes, and the clear, soft neigh, 
 musical as the whistle of a blackbird, with which he was 
 wont to greet her, and a sob caught her breath as she 
 thought of condemning him to death. She knew also 
 that he was worth his weight in gold. 
 
 Yet to sacrifice him seemed to her a clear duty, as 
 she looked round the circle of reluctant men about her. 
 They would never ask it, she knew. Some few horses 
 would be kept, and the earl's destrier amongst them, as a 
 matter of course ; but she remembered how she had 
 heard it told of William the Conqueror, that when, on 
 his march on Chester, his men, weary with labour and 
 cold, begged him to let them go back, he dismounted 
 and went afoot to encourage them, and shared all their 
 hardships. Was her lord a less generous knight than 
 William? A thousand times no! If he were in 
 Blauncheflour, he would be the first to lead the sacrifice. 
 As he was absent, she must do it for him. These 
 thoughts flashed through her mind in a moment, though 
 they are long to write. 
 
 ' Thou art right, Sir Hoel,' she said in a steady voice. 
 ' 'Tis like killing a child for a knight to kill his steed, I 
 well understand. Yet it is but wisdom as we are cir-
 
 HOW OLIVER DIED. 309 
 
 cumstanced, and I make no doubt if my lord were here, 
 he would be the first to make the sacrifice. Therefore 
 I beg thee, dear Sir Hoel,' — she laid her left hand on his 
 arm, and would have put the other with it, had it not 
 been stiffened with bandages, and looked into his face 
 with her clear, brave eyes, very pathetic now, with heavy 
 rings of blue round them, and thin, wan cheeks beneath, 
 — ' I beg thee, dear Sir Hoel, despatch my lord's destrier 
 with thine own blade, and see that he suffer no needless 
 pain.' 
 
 A chorus of protests burst from the knights ; not 
 a man but offered his steed to save Oliver ; but the 
 countess said hastily, ' Attend to my behest, I pray 
 thee, Sir Hoel ! ' and hurried from the room. 
 
 She went to her bower, where Eadgyth was awaiting 
 her. She had not trusted any of her ladies to attend 
 her in her council - chamber, lest their courage should 
 give way, and so weaken her influence over the knights. 
 Now, when she met Eadgyth's look oi tender inquiry, 
 and felt her caressing arms round her, she was overcome 
 herself. She dropped her poor weary head on Eadgyth's 
 shoulder and wept — wept as she had never done in her 
 life before — no, not even in the chapel through that long 
 sad night when she believed herself a widow ; for her 
 fresh young strength was in its prime then, and now she 
 was weakened physically by the strain of continued 
 anxiety and the acute pain of her wounded arm. 
 
 The storm of sobs was so long and violent, that 
 Eadgyth, w4io had scarcely ever seen her cry, was sore 
 afraid. She dreaded tliat some fell disaster had befallen.
 
 3 1 o HOW OLIVER DIED. 
 
 But she was a good comforter ; she did not tease with 
 questions, she only pressed her friend fondly to her, and 
 kissed and caressed her till she grew calmer. 
 
 ' Oh, Eadgyth,' said the countess at length, 'they are 
 going to kill the horses, and Ralph's destrier must die. 
 The dear Oliver ! ' 
 
 To Eadgyth this reason for such excessive grief 
 seemed almost absurd, and her blue eyes opened 
 widely. 
 
 ' Oh, I am a poor weak fool ! ' said Emma, drawing 
 away, 'to break down so utterly. But my arm aches 
 shrewdly, Eadgyth, and I am not used to pain.' 
 
 She threw herself upon the embroidered bed, tears 
 rolling silently down her cheeks. 
 
 ' Poor sweet ! ' said Eadgyth. ' I do not marvel that 
 even thy wonderful spirit should yield to nature. This 
 day has been fearful indeed.' 
 
 'Why does not Ralph come? Why does he not 
 come?' exclaimed Emma, covering her face with her 
 slender hands, wliich had grown so thin that she could 
 scarce keep on her wedding ring. ' My heart is full of 
 fears, Eadgyth. I dreamt of him last night, ill and 
 sorrowful, tossing on a bed of fever. He was ill when 
 he went away, his wounds half- healed. It is all doubt 
 and dread — and horror ! ' 
 
 ' Ah, Christ have mercy upon us ! ' said Eadgyth, who 
 was kneeling beside the bed. 
 
 ' I dare not ask for mercy,' said Emma piteously. ' I 
 am fighting in a wrong cause ! Thy Sir Aimand said it. 
 I have brought all this woe and suffering on the man
 
 HO W OLIVER DIED. 3 1 ' 
 
 who loved me, and on those who love him and follow 
 him, like leal knights and true ! ' 
 
 ' Oh, do not torment yourself with such thoughts, 
 sweet heart ! Surely it was no wrong cause to strive 
 with the oppressor of this wretched land, — he whose 
 minions were killing the heart out of his victims with 
 every species of wrong and outrage ! ' 
 
 The tears were running swiftly enough down Eadgyth's 
 cheeks now. 
 
 ' Alas ! ' said Emma, ' I fear we thought less of that 
 than of our own revenge and ambition.' 
 
 ' But how couldst thou have helped it ? ' 
 
 ' I might have helped it. I might have refused to 
 marry against the king's command, and gone into a 
 convent, and then the bride-ale would never have been, 
 nor its direful following.' 
 
 ' Perchance it had been better,' said Eadgyth thought- 
 fully. 
 
 ' No, it would not have been better!' cried Emma, 
 starting up, impatient at Eadgyth's acquiescence ; she 
 had given her scruples voice that they might be com- 
 bated, not confirmed. ' I would go through it all again 
 and more to be Ralph's wife, and I am a contemptible 
 coward, a iiodii/g, to be puling here because niy roses 
 are not thornless, when I might be helping to keep m)' 
 hero's castle for him ! ' 
 
 She sprang from the bed, aiul insisted on going to 
 the spital to leech the day's wounded, though Eadgyth 
 told her that >hc needed leeching far more sorelx' 
 herself
 
 312 HOW OLIVER DIED. 
 
 Yet in ail her self-abandonment she had spared 
 Eadgyth, and had not told her that they were to be 
 imprisoned in the keep from that day forth, nor that her 
 cousin Leofric Ealdredsson was dead or in the hands of 
 the enemy.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 FAMINE. 
 
 When the besiegers attacked the walls of Blaunche- 
 flour on the morning following, they found them 
 undefended, and took possession with shouts and 
 jubilation. 
 
 The besieged, sheltered behind the strong ramparts 
 of the keep, felt much as shipwrecked mariners, who, 
 from the present safety of some rocky islet, watch the 
 rising of the tide, knowing that their lives depend upon 
 the height to which the shining water will attain, — 
 unless indeed some friendly vessel come to the rescue 
 and carry them off. 
 
 The hope of the imprisoned garrison was in the 
 coming of the earl, and as Earl Warrenne and Robert 
 Malet rode round the keep, and saw how strong and 
 flawless was the masonry, they had a shrewd fear that 
 De Guader would yet bring the Danes and Bretons 
 upon them before they had time to complete their 
 victory, and that, after all their hard fighting ami 
 expenditure of lives and lime and money, the quarry 
 would escape them. 
 
 313
 
 314 FAMINE. 
 
 So they determined to call a parley, and endeavour 
 to cajole the countess into resigning the fortress. 
 
 Needless to say, their summons was eagerly re- 
 sponded to by the garrison. 
 
 Emma trembled with hope that was almost pain, as 
 she inquired what terms the envoy was empowered to 
 grant. 
 
 ' Safe-conduct to herself, her ladies, and a reasonable 
 escort, if she would give her parole to leave the country 
 within a month — no more.' 
 
 She realised then that her hope had been despair ; 
 that she had not had courage to hope at all. 
 
 ' Safe-conduct for myself, my ladies, and every soul 
 in the garrison,' replied the countess proudl}-. ' I will 
 yield for no less.' 
 
 The envoy was not empowered to grant it. 
 
 ' Dear lady, it were better to accept the terms. Wc 
 cannot insure the safety even of thyself and thy ladies 
 in the end,' advised Sir Hocl privately, ' Nought lies 
 before us but quick starvation ; the provisions are very 
 short.' 
 
 ' Desert you and all who have fought so nobly for us, 
 and braved every peril for us, to insure our own safety ? 
 Never ! Remember Stephen Ic Hareau ! They would 
 deal with you likewise,' cried Emma. ' I have given 
 my answer. Conve\' it to thy lords!' she told the 
 envoy. 
 
 Then the messenger said there was a further matter. 
 It was understood that a loyal knight. Sir Aimaiul 
 dc Sourdcval, was in the castle, a prisoner, and, the
 
 FAMINE. 
 
 j'3 
 
 gallant Childe Leofric Ealdredsson having fallen into 
 their hands on the previous day, they proposed an 
 exchange. 
 
 This was, of course, accepted, and Sir Aimand was 
 sent for. 
 
 Eadgyth had begged to attend the countess to the 
 council-chamber, and Emma turned to her. ' I am 
 glad, Eadgyth. I feared a worse fate for thy kinsman.' 
 The poor girl turned to her with a white face, well 
 knowing that the words were spoken to cover her 
 agitation. She tried to smile. 
 
 ' It is a happy thing for him,' she said. 
 
 ' Thy presence here is no longer needed,' said the 
 countess. ' Let Sir Aimand wait upon mc in my bower 
 before he goes.' 
 
 ' Poor child, thou shalt have a comfortable leave- 
 taking at least ! ' she said, as Eadgyth followed to her 
 private chamber. * It is good for him to go, donzelle ; 
 he is eating his heart out in misery here.' 
 
 ' Good for him to go that he may be free to slay my 
 people ! ' cried Eadgyth bitterly. ' Ah, wretched me ! 
 that I should love my couiUry's foe !' 
 
 Emma had no time to answer, for De Sourdeval's 
 mailed step was clanking up the passage. A moment 
 later he entered the bower. His eyes were shining and 
 his cheeks flushed. He threw himself on his knee 
 before the countess. 
 
 'Ah, noble lady,' he exclaimed, 'would that th\- 
 cause were one with that of m\- licge-lord William, 
 so I might fight for thee, and show my gratitude
 
 3i6 FAMINE. 
 
 for all thy kindness and generosity ! I will seek 
 service far from here ; my sword shall not be against 
 thee ! ' 
 
 ' The generosity has not been all on my side, Sir 
 Knight!' replied the countess, with moistening eyes. 
 ' I would indeed that my cause were one with that of 
 William of Normandy ; that all this turmoil was at an 
 end, and that no more brave lives were to be sacrificed 
 for me and mine.' A deep, quivering sigh followed her 
 speech. 
 
 * Lady Eadgyth,' said Sir Aimand, with a voice not 
 quite so steady as before, as he turned to the Saxon 
 maiden, ' I am glad thy kinsman profits by my 
 freedom. It will comfort me that if I cannot myself 
 labour in thy defence, my poor life has served to restore 
 one v/ho can to the garrison — far more valiantly and 
 worthily than I.' 
 
 He forced out the words. He himself tried to 
 believe that he was glad, but, in truth, the bitterest sting 
 of parting lay for him in the thought that the man 
 whom he regarded as his rival should be in the castle, 
 favoured by daily and hourly intercourse under circum- 
 stances that must needs draw the hardest-hearted 
 together. He remembered with renewed anguish all 
 the tortures of Tantalus he had endured during his 
 enforced inactivity ; burning to distinguish himself 
 before his lady's eyes, and forced to remain a drone in 
 the hive, while Leofric had been free to show himself 
 the hero he was, and would now have still fairer 
 opportunity.
 
 FAMINE. 317 
 
 His eyes sought hers, therefore, full of a sadness 
 which belied his words. 
 
 Eadgyth longed to tear a favour from her dress, and 
 bid him wear it in his helm against all comers, for that 
 no other knight, stranger or kin, should ever carry it. 
 But she thought, ' Who knows that we shall ever meet 
 again ? Why should I bind him ? ' So she answered, 
 bowing her head to hide the springing tears, ' Mary 
 Mother have thee in her keeping ! ' 
 
 She gave him her hand, which he kissed reverently, 
 and so departed, and half- an -hour later Leofric 
 Ealdredsson was borne into the keep on a litter. 
 
 When Eadgyth saw her kinsman, her heart smote her 
 that his fate had moved her so little ; for his brow 
 was damp with pain, and his brawny arms dropped 
 feebly by his side, and all his strength was fled from 
 him. She pansed and bound his wounds with tender 
 care, and washed the clotted blood from his long yellow 
 curls, wondering if indeed it were true that he was Sir 
 Aimand's rival, or if it were only a figment of love's 
 self-torturing jealousy. 
 
 From time to time Leofric moaned as she minis- 
 tered to him, but scarcely opened his eyes. Did he 
 know who it was, she wondered, or, if he knew, did 
 he care ? 
 
 When the last bandage was fastened, and she stood 
 for a moment to see if aught more could be done for 
 her patient, Leofric raised his weary head and looked 
 in her face. 
 
 He did not speak, he had scarce strength for that ;
 
 3i8 FAMINE. 
 
 his eyes were full of gratitude, and spoke his thanks, but 
 they told her something more. 
 
 Then Eadgyth knew that Sir Aimand had said sooth, 
 and her heart smote her, and her breath caught with an 
 inward sob. 
 
 Leofric lifted his hand feebly and held it for hers. 
 Had she given it, he would have pressed it to his lips ; 
 she could not, — but an hour before Aimand de Sourdeval 
 had kissed it ! 
 
 Leofric let his great nerveless hand fall listlessly 
 beside him again. 
 
 ' Thou art the best leech in the world, cousin,' he 
 murmured, and closed his eyes again. 
 
 Eadgyth hurried away to the bower. 
 
 The days that followed were like an evil dream 
 for all in the castle. The deadly monotony let them 
 note clearly how, hour by hour, death was creeping 
 nearer. 
 
 The mangonels and warrewolves were busy at their 
 work, and the din of their projectiles was ever in the 
 ears of the besieged. But these were not what they 
 feared. These could but splinter a fragment off a 
 stone here and there, but could make no dangerous 
 breach in walls thirteen feet thick ; besides, wooden 
 galleries had been projected from the battlements, 
 through which the defenders poured scalding rain of 
 boiling water and molten lead upon the engineers, 
 and so prevented any lengthened attack upon a given 
 spot. 
 
 No; the enemy they feared was Famine ! She stared
 
 FAMINE. 319 
 
 them in the face. Day by day more nearly her awful 
 ghoulish eyes came nearer, and the grip of her bony 
 hands was at their throats. 
 
 And still the warders scanned the horizon vainly, in 
 hope to see the glimmer of friendly armour, still vainly 
 watched the river for the flash of friendly oars. 
 
 Day after day dragged its slow length along, and yet 
 the position remained unchanged, save that the assailants 
 had almost given up effort, and quietly surrounded them, 
 biding their time, knowing well that it must come if 
 only no relief appeared. 
 
 The garrison had long been reduced to the barest 
 rations on which it was possible to sustain life, 
 and the few poor horses which had been taken into 
 the keep, in the hope of some happy chance making 
 their services available, had .shared the fate of their 
 brethren. 
 
 Gaunt faces and spectre forms dragged wearily from 
 post to post, and strange thoughts flitted across hungry 
 brains when slain men had to be buried in the donjon 
 vaults. If one were to eat a body now, what would 
 happen at the last day? Would it be more difficult for 
 the soul that needed it again than for those whose flesh 
 had been food for worms in the usual way? Would the 
 men who had partaken of the flesh, and incorporated it 
 into their own bodies, have to give it up again when the 
 time of resurrection had arrived, and go scant them- 
 selves ? Then they shuddered and crossed themselves, 
 and muttered an ave or a paternoster, shunning the 
 hungry eyes of their neighbour, lest he should guess
 
 330 FAMINE. 
 
 their thoughts, or be thinking like horribleness himself, 
 while they buckled their belts tighter to stay their 
 pangs. 
 
 The countess, worn to a shadow, with her arm still 
 bandaged, — for the worry and care she had under- 
 gone had hurt her health and kept her wound from 
 healing, — was ever among them, consoling, entreat- 
 ing, commanding, inventing all manner of comforts 
 for their souls and their bodies. She it was who 
 prompted the cooks to make dainty dishes out of most 
 unlikely materials ; who sang the song of Rollo as she 
 passed on her way, and kept up their hearts with gay 
 jests. 
 
 One day an archer had the good fortune to shoot a 
 heron that was flapping with evenly beating wings 
 across the sky, so that it fell fluttering upon the roof of 
 the keep, and was soon killed and presented by the 
 lucky marksman to the countess, as a fit tribute to her 
 private table, the fare on which, as all knew, had been 
 poor enough for some time past. 
 
 She thanked the stout bowman heartily, but bade 
 him follow her, and led the way to the great kitchen. 
 Then she bade the scullions pluck the noble bird ; and, 
 after that was done, put it with her own white hands 
 into the great cauldron which was cooking for the 
 men. 
 
 ' Share and share alike,' she said ; and the soldiers 
 cheered her, so that the king's men heard it outside the 
 walls, and wondered what good luck could have come 
 to their prisoners.
 
 FAMINE. 
 
 321 
 
 One morning Eadgyth met her kinsman, Leofric 
 Ealdredsson, who had so far recovered from his wounds 
 as to be able to keep watch and ward, and to sec that 
 the sentinels did their duty. His face bore traces of 
 violent agitation. 
 
 ' Well met, coosine,' cried he ; 'I wanted to see thee. 
 Keep thy lady off the battlements to-day, and go not 
 thither thyself.' 
 
 Eadgyth looked in his face, and trembled. ' Thou 
 hast bad news. I will heed thy warning. But where- 
 fore? Is aught more terrible than we daily witness to 
 be seen ? ' 
 
 ' By Odin and Thor, yes ! It bears not the tell- 
 ing.' 
 
 ' Oh, Leofric, invoke not those dreadful pagan 
 names in such an hour! Pray rather to the holy 
 saints.' 
 
 ' If thou wouldst take mc in hand, a good man might 
 perchance be made of me, coosine,' said the wild Leofric, 
 with a laugh half tender and half bitter. 
 
 Eadgyth shook her head. 
 
 ' But thou hast sorely alarmed mc, Leofric. I would 
 rather know the worst.' 
 
 ' Well, the countess must know some time ; perhaps 
 
 it were better told through thee. This, then, is the 
 
 sight to be seen from the battlements, and it is ugly as 
 
 sin.' The veins on his forehead swelled, and his strong 
 
 throat gathered into knots, \\liilc his fingers clenched on 
 
 the hilt of his dagger. ' A tall gallows, right close under 
 
 our noses, and three men hanged thereon ; with an 
 
 X
 
 322 FAMINE. 
 
 inscription over them, " The traitor Breton's traitor 
 
 messengers." ' 
 
 Eadgyth clasped her hands. ' The earl has sent, and 
 they have caught his men ! ' 
 
 ' That's it ; ' and Leofric murmured a few wishes 
 regarding the king's men that at the least were un- 
 charitable. ' Further, one of the men is the poor fool H 
 Grillonne — a quick-witted rascal as ever was called 
 wise — he who saved his master so cleverly after the 
 battle.' 
 
 'Grillonne! What! Grillonne so entreated?' ex- 
 claimed Eadgyth, with a shudder. ' But that will be a 
 sore blow to the earl when he comes to know it. Art 
 thou sure ? ' 
 
 ' Ay ; the knave's face was one not easily mistaken,' 
 said Leofric. 
 
 Eadgyth hurried to the bower, and told the countess 
 what she had heard. 
 
 ' But it is good news, it is great news ! ' cried Emma, • 
 with sparkling eyes. ' Ralph is alive, and trying to help 
 us ! Alacke ! I grieve for the poor envoys and Grillonne. 
 Ah, 'tis sad such a fate has befallen him, the poor 
 honest fool ! his quick wits have not saved him after 
 all' 
 
 Emma was right, it proved to be good news, for 
 Earl Warrenne and his colleagues, before hanging the 
 messengers, had extracted from them the intelligence 
 that Ralph de Guader had collected a great force in 
 Bretagne and amongst the Danes, and that he was 
 coming to the relief of his beleaguered castle. A
 
 IfAMINE. 323 
 
 day or two later they called a parley, and offered 
 safe-conduct to the whole garrison, without exception, 
 on condition that they left England witliin forty days, 
 counting from the day on which they surrendered the 
 castle. 
 
 Emma would fain have held out still, hoping that 
 the earl was on his way to relieve them ; but she 
 had no certain knowledge of his movements, and 
 the famine was so direful that even the fire-cating 
 Leofric was obliged to counsel her to accei)t the 
 terms. 
 
 ' It is a victory !' exclaimed Sir Hocl, moved almost 
 to tears; 'and we owe it to thy haught spirit and 
 determined courage, noble countess. Thy name shall 
 be famous in days to come.' 
 
 So the garrison were called together into the 
 great hall, and told how that their lives were saved, 
 and that they were to march out of Castle Blaunche- 
 flour with banners flying, and all the honours of 
 war, instead of having their feet cut off like poor 
 Stephen le llareau and the other prisoners the king's 
 men had taken ; and the men, who had looked for- 
 ward to certain ill - fortune fur themselves, whatever 
 might betide their superiors, thought it a victory 
 also. 
 
 How the hall rang with cheers, and congratulations, 
 and praise of the countess ! Norman and l^reton, 
 Saxon and Dane, raised what voices hunger had left 
 them, and verily they shouted lustily, notwithstanding a 
 light breakfast.
 
 324 FAMINE. 
 
 The countess stood amongst them, sobbing like a 
 child. 
 
 ' No praise is due to me ; it is all to you, my gallant 
 defenders.' 
 
 So the answer went back to Earl William de Warrenne 
 that the keys of Castle Blauncheflour should be sur- 
 rendered on the morrow. 
 
 Then all the garrison attended a ' Te Deum ' in the 
 chapel of St. Nicholas. 
 
 Afterwards, when the knights had again assembled in 
 the great hall, the countess said, — 
 
 ' Leofric Ealdredsson, these gentlemen, thy comrades 
 in arms, shame themselves that they should wear the 
 belt and spurs while one who has fought so knightly 
 should not claim them. We well know thou hast them 
 not solely because thou wert too careless to claim 
 them, but I would not have thee leave Blauncheflour 
 undubbed.' 
 
 Leofric's pale hunger-eaten cheeks turned red with 
 pleasure. 
 
 ' If the men who have fought with me here esteem 
 me peer, I will not reject the honour,' he answered ; at 
 which the hall rang with cheers. 
 
 Then said the countess, smiling, ' Wilt thou have 
 thine accolade in our Norman fashion, from the hands 
 of a knight, and take Sir Hoel de St. Brice for thy 
 sponsor, or, in the way of thine own people, at the 
 hands of Father Pierre ? ' 
 
 ' Nay,' quoth the turbulent hero, * there is a better 
 way than either. Many a good man has taken his
 
 FAMINE. 325 
 
 knighthood from the hands of a maiden. Let my fair 
 kinswoman, thy bower-maiden, stand sponsor to me ; ' 
 and he turned appeaiingly to Eadgyth. 
 
 'A truce to thy jests, Leofric Ealdredsson, this is no 
 time for them ! ' answered Eadgj'th sliarply, fingering 
 the bracelet she always wore upon her arm. 
 
 ' By the Rood, I mean no jest, coosinc ! Jourdain 
 took his knighthood from the hands of his lady ; why 
 not I from thee?' 
 
 ' Keep to the old Saxon custom, Leofric ; take it from 
 the hands of Father Pierre.' 
 
 And so he did ; and his last night within the walls of 
 Blaunchcflour was spent in vigil and prayer before the 
 altar of the chapel, whereon lay his armour. 
 
 On the morrow, the brave defenders of Nor- 
 wich Castle marched forth from its sheltering walls, 
 with all the honours of war ; carr)'ing their arms, 
 and fully equipped, with flags Hying and banners 
 waving. 
 
 The leaders of the ro)'al forces sent palfre)-s for 
 the countess and her ladies, and came in state to 
 meet the woman w Iio had held them all at baj- 
 so long, armed cap-d-pic, tiieir horses prancing and 
 curveting, and plumes dancing in the breeze. Many 
 a courtly compliment they paid to their fair foe, 
 and Earl VVarrennc took the kc)-s himself from her 
 white hands. 
 
 Then Bishop Geoffre}', and I'^arl Warrcnnc, and 
 Robert Malet took possession of Castle Blauncheflour 
 formally, and threw into it a garrison of three hundred
 
 326 FAMINE. 
 
 men-at-arms, and a body of balistarii and other 
 engineers. 
 
 And Archbishop Lanfranc wrote to King William, in 
 terms more forcible than polite, ' Glory be to God on 
 high ! your kingdom is at last purged from the filth of 
 these Bretons.'
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 BRETAGNE. 
 
 The days that followed seemed like an evil dream 
 to the countess and her ladies. 
 
 Several of the Breton knights who were amongst 
 the garrison had manors in the neighbourhood ; these 
 were, of course, under confiscation ; still, for the forty 
 days allowed them to get away from England, the)- 
 retained the lordship of their estates, and were able 
 to offer hospitality to Emma. 
 
 On their way to a temporary retreat thus provided for 
 them, the newly-dubbed knight, Sir Leofric Iiialdrcdsson, 
 reined in the somewhat sorry jade he had managed 
 to procure, to the side of his kinswoman ICadgyth, as 
 on a happier occasion Sir Ainiand dc Sourdcval h;ul 
 reined in a nobler steed. 
 
 'Alack, coosine ! the Norman fell-monger is safe in liis 
 seat now. Our last chance is over and done. We have 
 nought left but to submit with the best grace we can 
 muster,' he said sadly. 
 
 Eadgyth turned to him w ith an unfathomable regret 
 in her limpid eyes. ' Vcs, it is too true; the Normans 
 have conquered." 
 
 327
 
 328 BRETAGNE. 
 
 ' But not us, coosine ! We shall never be conquered 
 in spirit, you and I ! Wc are Angles to the backbone, 
 and always shall be. In the fat Fenland we may yet 
 live a life of our own, doing homage to no man, and 
 defying fate. Share my island home amongst the meres, 
 Eadgyth. I have strength to protect thee.' 
 
 Then Eadgyth shook her head sadly, her voice was 
 scarcely audible as she answered, — 
 
 * I am not so staunch as you think me, kinsman. I 
 fear I am conquered, body and soul. Day by day it 
 hath been borne in upon me more strongly that the 
 Normans have won because they deserved to win.' 
 
 Leofric opened his blue eyes at this announcement, 
 and rounded his mouth for an oath, but recollected 
 himself and checked it, and tugged his yellow beard 
 instead. 
 
 ' I say it advisedly, Leofric Ealdredsson : we English 
 have lost because we were selfish and lazy ; sunk in 
 enjoyment ; turbulent, and unwilling to submit to 
 discipline. Hast thou not thyself told me how the 
 Normans spent the night before Senlac in prayer and 
 vigil, while the English feasted and drank it away ? ' 
 
 ' Ah, Eadgyth, well for thee thou art a v/oman ! ' 
 answered Leofric, grinding his teeth, his cheeks flushed 
 with anger. Then he burst out laughing in his light- 
 hearted, merry way, though there was a taint of bitter- 
 ness in his mirth. 
 
 ' By Asgaard and Odin ! I believe thou art bewitched 
 by that pale, shaven - faced Norman prudJioinmc, as 
 they call it — Aimand de Sourdeval. My unclerkly
 
 BRET AG NE. 329 
 
 tongue and downright ways doubtless bear ill the 
 contrast with such a "parfait knight"!' He brought 
 down his strong hand on his thigh with a force that 
 made all his bracelets jingle. ' Say frankly now, 
 kinswoman, thou thinkest him the better man of us 
 twain ? ' 
 
 He dreaded the answer, though he braved it But 
 Eadgyth, looking steadily in his face, replied, — 
 
 'I should not speak sooth, Leofric Ealdredsson, if I 
 denied it. I do think him the better man. Thou 
 thyself hast said he was thine equal in the niclcc ; and, 
 certes, he is more gentle in hall.' 
 
 Leofric turned away and hung his head, only for a 
 moment. Then he faced Eadgyth with a bright smile, 
 the indomitable spirit of the man meeting the heart- 
 wound as it would have met one of the flesh. 
 
 ' But I am here, and he is absent,' he said ; ' a live 
 dog, they say, is better than a dead lion. And he is 
 of the conquerors, and I of the conquered, so all thy 
 generosity should be thrown into my side of the balance. 
 Beside,' he added seriously, ' the blood of thy countr\-- 
 men is on his blade, whilst I am of thy people.' 
 
 Eadgyth shuddered, and clutched the pommel of her 
 saddle; the quick tears started from her c}-cs, and 
 rolled one after another down her cheeks. 
 
 Leofric leaned over and laid his broad palm upon her 
 little trembling hand. 
 
 'Go not away from tin' couiitr\- in the train <>f the 
 foreign woman, Eadgyth, — though God forbid that I 
 should say aught against her, for she is brave and
 
 330 BRET AG NE. 
 
 beautiful, — but come thou over into the Fenlands, and 
 share my risks, and comfort my poor old father, and 
 tame me. Rough as I am, I would always be gentle to 
 tliee, Eadgyth.' 
 
 ' Wouldst thou wed me with another man's image in 
 my heart, Leofric ? ' asked Eadgyth, with a trembling 
 voice. 
 
 ' I would drive out that image by my own,' avowed 
 Leofric. 
 
 ' That thou wilt never do, coosine ! ' said Eadgyth 
 firmly. ' No, do not dream it. I can never be his, 
 neither can I wed any other. Nor can I leave my lady 
 now in her sore distress and sorrow. No, Leofric, I 
 cannot go with thee ; ask me no more, it is but pain to 
 both.' 
 
 Then Leofric saw she was in earnest, and desisted. 
 Affecting to see some dangerous object that required 
 investigation, he struck spurs into his Jiacquenee, and 
 dashed off into the brushwood that bordered the road ; 
 and when he joined the cavalcade again, he took care 
 not to choose the neighbourhood of his cousin's palfrey. 
 
 About a fortnight later, the countess and her ladies, 
 amongst whom was the faithful Eadgyth, went on board 
 a long-bodied, high-prowed galley at Lovelly's Staithe. 
 It was propelled by twenty-five oars on each side, and 
 flaunted gaudy embroidered sails to the wind, the main- 
 mast being surrounded by a gallery round which a 
 sentinel could walk. The garrison of Blauncheflour 
 embarked on board a small flotilla of similar vessels. 
 
 We may imagine how they sufi"ered as they made
 
 BRETAGNE. 331 
 
 tedious progress clown the rough cast coast, passing 
 Dunwich and Ipswich, and the low-lying estuaries of 
 Maldon and the Thames ; and farther south, Sandwich 
 and the high white cliffs of Dover, famous then, although 
 no Shakespeare had sung them. How they raised their 
 weary heads and strained their sad eyes to look at the 
 castles which William the Norman had built at Hastings 
 and Lewes and Arundel ; and how Eadgyth wept to 
 see them, because they reminded her of slain Harold 
 Godwinsson, and were proof of the downfall of her 
 nation. Emma was sorrowful too, because they witnessed 
 to the valour and success of the greatest captain of the 
 age, whom her father, stout William Fitzosbern, had 
 loved and honoured, and against whom she was in 
 rebellion. 
 
 They slipped as quickly as might be past the rough 
 Norman coast, keeping as far out to sea as possible, lest 
 Norman vessels should come down on them and harry 
 them, and bear off the precious charge they guarded, to 
 be kept in durance vile till ransom was extorted, which 
 was far from improbable, notwithstanding the forty days' 
 safe-conduct given them by William's officers. 
 
 Standing out so far to sea, they got a rough tossing 
 on Atlantic rollers, and many a baptism of Atlantic 
 spray. With what joy they hailed the first glimpse of 
 the Breton rocks ! How glad they were when they made 
 the Illc, and floated under the staithcs of Dinan ! 
 
 Then all was question and curiosity, one side as eager 
 to hear as the other. The countess and her ittcinic 
 asking news of Ralph de Guader and Montfort ; the
 
 332 BRETAGNE. 
 
 Brittany folks as anxious to learn how she had fared, 
 and how escaped. 
 
 The countess learned with joy that Ralph was at 
 Montfort, scarce forty miles away, preparing with might 
 and main an expedition for the relief of Rlauncheflour. 
 ' Had she not seen the warships in the harbour ? ' they 
 asked. 
 
 We may guess how quickly messengers were sent off 
 to Montfort, and how Ralph mounted in hot haste as 
 soon as they told him that his countess had come, with 
 all her gallant garrison, and how he galloped to meet 
 them as fast as his steed could gallop. No doubt he 
 sighed that he had not Oliver under him then. 
 
 Emma and her following got what horses they could, 
 and started for Montfort, 
 
 The August sun shone hotly from the blue continental 
 sky, and the apples were turning yellow and red in the 
 orchards along the road. As noon came on, the travellers, 
 having ridden some fifteen miles on very sorry beasts, 
 were fain to rest them at a wayside hostel. 
 
 The countess and her ladies ascended the ladder that 
 served for a staircase to the upper chamber, and, while 
 food was preparing below, lay down upon the rushes to 
 rest their weary limbs. 
 
 The countess occupied a low pallet bed that stood in 
 a corner of the room, and so utterly weary and broken 
 down was she, that she could not even rejoice at thought 
 of seeing her husband speedily. She soon fell into a 
 heavy slumber, broken by dreams of the dreadful past 
 more terrible even than the reality.
 
 BRETAGNE. 333 
 
 She heard again the din of the warrcwolves and 
 mangonels, and the crash of the stones flung by them 
 as they struck the walls, the clash of swords and 
 clangor of armour ; and the terror and woe of it 
 overcame her. She awoke with a scream. Throwinsf 
 out her arms wildly, her hands came in contact with a 
 man's mailed gauntlets, and she sprang up, crying, 
 ' Blauncheflour is taken ! To the rescue ! to the rescue ! ' 
 
 ' Dost thou not know me, my wife, mine own ? ' 
 answered Ralph's voice, broken with sobs. ' Would to 
 God I had never left thee ! ' 
 
 Emma burst into hysterical laughter, and threw 
 herself upon her husband's breast, sobbing for joy. ' I 
 was dreaming, Ralph ! Would all bad dreams might 
 end as happily.' 
 
 Then they sat down side by side upon the bed, and 
 looked in each other's faces. They were alone, for 
 Emma's ladies had delicately withdrawn when the carl 
 entered, knowing that they would rather be in private. 
 
 ' How pale thou art and thin, my sweet,' said Ralph, 
 reproaching himself more and more bitterly that he had 
 left her to struggle alone. 
 
 ' I fear my poor face has lost its fairness, Ralph,' u ilh 
 an anxiety of tone that was all of love and naught of 
 vanity. 
 
 'Thou art ten times fairer to me than ever before, my 
 heroine ! ' answered De Guadcr fondly. ' But let me 
 make excuse e'er I question thcc. This is how I came 
 not to thine aid. I went, as thou knowest, to Denmark, 
 and sought Sweyn Ulfsson, and begged him bear out
 
 334 BRETAGNE. 
 
 his promises and assist me with men, telling him that he 
 might yet hoist William from the English throne. And 
 Sweyn swore by the head of Sleipnir, Odin's horse, 
 which thou knowest is a mighty oath amongst these 
 Danish heathens, that he would support me. But then 
 my wounds, being half healed, broke out afresh ; and my 
 head being still sore through Odo's blow, I fell into a 
 fever, and lost my mind for six weeks. Meanwhile 
 Sweyn had made no move, and when I came to myself 
 I was still weak and powerless. As soon as I got 
 strength enough, I came over here to collect my vassals, 
 and call to me whoever would put his hands between 
 mine and be my man ; and I sent off messengers to 
 comfort thee ' — 
 
 ' Whom William's men caught, and hanged on a 
 gallows as high as the donjon keep,' interposed Emma. 
 
 Ralph gnashed his teeth. 
 
 'Ah ! was it so? My faithful Grillonne, was this the 
 reward of thy long service ? I have brought evil on all 
 who loved me ! I had all in readiness, and should have 
 started in a day, but, the blessed saints be praised ! thou 
 art here in safety, and there is no need. None can tell 
 how I have suffered thinking of thee.' 
 
 ' Thy cheeks are hollow enough, in truth ; thou canst 
 not crow over me,' said Emma, with a flash of her old 
 gaiety. And then she told him the long story of the 
 siege of Blauncheflour. 
 
 Ralph listened as one spellbound, and when she had 
 ended her tale he slipped on his knee at her feet. 
 
 ' Let me do thee homage,' he said, with a proud, fond
 
 BRETAGNE. 335 
 
 glance in her eyes. 'What am I that thou shouldst 
 have so suffered for my sake? It humbles me un- 
 speakably.' 
 
 Ever after it seemed to Emma that the poor garret 
 of that wayside inn was the noblest, fairest, and most 
 beautiful apartment into which she had ever set foot.^ 
 
 ' See Appendix, Note E.
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Whoever will, may find no small part of the ensuing 
 chapter in the pages of grave historians ; but in no 
 sober leaf of history will they find recorded how it 
 fared with Eadgyth of Norwich and Sir Aimand de 
 Sourdeval. 
 
 Ralph and Emma, like an orthodox hero and heroine, 
 lived happily together to the end of their days ; though 
 they had to fight a good many more battles. De 
 Guader had made himself a mighty enemy in William 
 the Conqueror, King of England and Duke of Nor- 
 mandy ; one who, in his latter capacity, had no mind 
 to have Ralph rampant on the borders of his dukedom. 
 So he invaded Brittany, and strove to run De Guader 
 to earth in his own country ; he invested Dol, but had 
 to raise the siege somewhat ignominiously, owing to 
 the help rendered to the besieged by Alan Fergant, 
 son of the reigning Count Howel of Brittany, and 
 Philip of France, who was always delighted to supply 
 aid against William. 
 
 Sweyn Ulfsson, King of Denmark, carried out his 
 promises to Ralph, and sent his son Cnut with Hakon 
 Jarl to invade England ; and they appeared on the 
 
 336
 
 CONCLUSION. ii-j 
 
 east coast with a fleet of two hundred ships, and 
 actually put into tlic Humber, though rather too late 
 to serve the purposes of the ambitious earl. 
 
 William, whether really frightened, or moved by the 
 lust of power which was rapidly gaining upon him, 
 and which clouded his later years with hate and misery, 
 made the descent of the Danes a pretext for the worst 
 crime of his reign — the judicial murder of Walthcof; 
 — for it must be noted that, with this exception, 
 his conduct to the English princes was generous and 
 mild. 
 
 When the son of Siward had carried to William 
 the news of the plot in which he had taken part, 
 the Conqueror had received liim graciously, and had 
 pardoned him freely for his o^\•n share of the mischief 
 But he kept him at his side, although he did not call 
 him a prisoner; and, soon after landing in l'2ngland, 
 arrested him on a charge of comi)licit\- with the Danes, 
 who had been his old comrades. William had that 
 excuse for thinking him dangerous. 
 
 Then came Judith's opportunity. She hated the 
 
 husband she had been forced to marry for State 
 
 purposes, and stood forth as his accuser, pouring her 
 
 poison into the ears of her royal uncle. Unfortunately 
 
 William listened, and cast the son of Siward into 
 
 prison at Winchester, where he languished for months, 
 
 while a mock trial was going on, which many hungry 
 
 Normans, who wanted his estates, were determined 
 
 should end to their liking. Ivo Taillebois, who had 
 
 been one of Ilereward's most venomous foes, and whose 
 
 Y
 
 338 CONCLUSION. 
 
 lands adjoined those of Waltheof, was amongst the 
 most clamorous for his destruction ; and the Primate 
 Lanfranc his best advocate and almost sole friend, 
 recognising perhaps that it was by his persuasion that 
 Waltheof had been induced to place himself in the 
 power of the Conqueror. 
 
 Early one morning, while the good folks of Win- 
 chester were asleep in their beds,, the Normans led the 
 Saxon chief without the walls of the town. Waltheof 
 walked to the place of execution clothed in his earl's 
 apparel, which he distributed among some priests, or 
 gave to some poor people who had followed him, and 
 whom the Normans permitted to approach on account 
 of their small numbers and entirely peaceful appearance. 
 Having reached a hill at a short distance from the 
 walls, the soldiers halted, and the Saxon, prostrating 
 himself, prayed aloud for a few moments ; but the 
 Normans, fearing that too long a delay would cause a 
 rumour of the intended execution to be spread in the 
 town, and that the citizens would rise to save their fellow- 
 countryman, exclaimed with impatience to Waltheof, 
 ' Arise, that we may fulfil our orders.' He asked, as a 
 last favour, that they would wait only until he had once 
 more repeated, for them and for himself, the Lord's 
 Prayer. They allowed him to do so ; and Waltheof, 
 rising from the ground, but remaining on his knees, 
 began aloud, 'Our Father who art in Heaven;' but 
 at the verse, ' and lead us not into temptation,' the 
 executioner, seeing perhaps that daylight was beginning 
 to appear, would wait no longer, but, suddenly drawing
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 339 
 
 his large sword, struck off the Saxon's head at one 
 blow. The body was thrown into a hole, dug between 
 two roads, and hastily covered with earth. ^ Ikit the 
 monks of Crowland, to whom he had made rich eifts 
 in his lifetime, and who had been staunch throughout 
 to the English cause, got the body up again a fortnight 
 later, and averred that it was still unchanged and the 
 blood fresh (sixteen years later they pronounced that 
 it was still as fresh, and that the head had grown on 
 to the body again !) ; and they bore it away to ' Holland.' 
 to St. Guthlac's in the Fens, and erected a tomb in 
 the abbeys with William's permission, whereat great 
 miracles took place. When his traitress wife Judith, 
 the 'foreign woman,' as the chroniclers style her, went 
 to cover this monument to her husband with a rich 
 pall of silk, which she had prepared for it, the martyred 
 hero refused her hypocritical gift, and the offering was 
 snatched away and thrown to a distance by an invisible 
 hand. 
 
 So the Saxon monks made a holy mart}-r of 
 the wavering Waltheof, whose fate, and the fate of 
 England with it, might have been very different 
 if he had possessed as much moral as physical 
 courage. 
 
 The Norman ecclesiastics accused the Saxons as 
 idolaters, and found the occasion good for deposing and 
 dishonouring Abbot Wulfketel, and putting Norman 
 Toustain in his stead ; which only made the English 
 
 'Thierry, Norman Conquest, p. Iij. Almo>t literal translalioii of 
 Ordcric Vitalis.
 
 340 CONCLUSION. 
 
 more keen to honour their dead hero, and they rushed 
 in crowds to his tomb, 
 
 Judith thought herself very lucky to have all the 
 money and lands that had belonged to Waltheof, and 
 to be free of him, and made up her mind to have 
 a second husband according to her own taste. But 
 she wished him alive again when William made a 
 present of her, possessions and all, to one Simon de 
 Senlis, a brave, but lame and deformed knight. 
 
 She refused to carry out the bargain, so William 
 consoled De Senlis with her daughter instead, together 
 with all the lands and money ; and the Saxon chroniclers 
 gloat over Judith's subsequent poverty and sorrows. 
 But we, looking back, now the years have rolled away, 
 may pity her, and see that the crime lay with those 
 who treated a woman as a chattel, and ' gave ' her away 
 to this man and that, without consulting her welfare 
 or her happiness, rather than with the woman so 
 treated. 
 
 And Emma's brother, the son of William's staunchest 
 vassal, how fared he ? 
 
 When the Conqueror passed the Straits after his 
 attempt to reduce De Guader at Dol, he called a great 
 council of Norman barons to pass judgment on the 
 authors of the recent conspiracy. Ralph de Guader 
 they dispossessed of all his English property as absent 
 and contumacious ; and Roger of Hereford, being a 
 prisoner, was brought before them, and condemned to 
 lose all his lands, and to pass the rest of his days in 
 prison.
 
 CONCLUSION. 341 
 
 But William seems still to have had a soft place in 
 his heart for the son of his old friend, and sent him 
 one Easter, according to the custom of the Norman 
 court, a complete suit of precious stuffs, a silk tunic 
 and mantle, and a close coat trimmed with foreign 
 furs. 
 
 But Roger was full of pride and bitterness, and he 
 took the rich present and threw it on the fire. 
 
 When William heard how his gift had been received, 
 he flew into a mighty rage. 
 
 ' The man is too proud who does such scorn to me,' 
 he cried. ' He shall never come out of my prison in my 
 days, par le splendeur Dex ! ' 
 
 Nor did he ; neither in the days of William Rufus. 
 He died in prison. ]kit, in the reign of Hcnr\- I., 
 his two sons won back a portion of their father's 
 possessions. 
 
 The lesser accomplices of the three great earls fared 
 even worse. 
 
 At the council before mentioned, ' Man foredoomed 
 all the l^-etons that were at the bride-ale at Norowic, 
 some were blinded, some were driven from the land, and 
 some were put to shame. So were the king's traitors 
 brought low,' say the chronicles. 
 
 Truly a disastrous bridal ! 
 
 Yet the bride and bridegroom, who risked so much 
 for each other and in\i>l\cd .so man)- in ruin, were the 
 most fortunate of those who attended it. 
 
 Though Ralph lost his English estates, he had broad 
 lands in his mother's country, and lived with his hard-
 
 342 CONCLUSION. 
 
 won consort in his castles of Guader and Montfort. A 
 son and a daughter were born to them. The son 
 succeeded to his father's Breton possessions, and the 
 daughter, whom one chronicler names Amicia, another 
 Itta, married Earl Robert of Leicester, and became a 
 great English lady. 
 
 A little over twenty years had Emma and Ralph 
 lived together, the stream of their true love having 
 found peaceful channel after the rapids and whirl- 
 pools that followed on the first joining of their 
 courses twain in one. Grey hairs had begun to 
 muster in Ralph's dark locks, though his sturdy 
 figure was as strong and active as ever and his hawk 
 eyes as keen ; motherhood had softened the high- 
 spirited Emma, and had brought soft dimples into her 
 cheeks and a lovelight to her brow. Happy in her 
 home, she did not give much heed to the signs of the 
 times, or note the strong new spirit that was stirring in 
 the air. 
 
 Tut one day De Guader came into her bower in full 
 harness, wearing helm and hauberk, with his great two- 
 handed sword by his side. 
 
 He came up to her, and stood before her, and looked 
 in her face, and took her soft mother's hand between his 
 two big palms. 
 
 ' See'st thou ? ' he asked, and he guided her eyes with 
 his own towards his arm, whereon was bound the cross 
 of the Crusaders. 
 
 ' Ah, Ralph ! ' she cried, ' not thou ! ' 
 
 ' Sweet,' he said gently, ' When I lay on the field of
 
 
 
 De Guader dona the Cross.
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 343 
 
 my greatest fight, in sore distress and despair, with the 
 choughs and ravens waiting to feed on mine eyes, and 
 the thought of thee as of one I should never see a^ain 
 till the sounding of the last trump, I vowed that if life 
 were spared me, I would one day make pilgrimage to 
 the Holy Sepulchre. Now the time has come, my lady. 
 Life has given me more than I had dared to hope for, 
 but it is passing ; we are no longer young, you and I, 
 old wife! Let mc join the men who have responded 
 to Pope Urban's call. Robert Curthose is moving. 
 I will put my hands between his and be his man, 
 and march under his banner to join Godfrey dc 
 Bouillon.' 
 
 'Whom all men honour!' said Emma under her 
 breath. 
 
 * Wilt thou give mc thy blessing and thy leave, my 
 lady?' 
 
 ' Thou art sudden ! Let me be alone and think,' said 
 Emma ; and she left him for a space. When she came 
 back to him, her face was very pale, but she met his 
 eyes with a steady smile, and, in turn, guided them to 
 her arm, on which was bound the cross of the Crusaders. 
 ' Wilt thou give me thy blessing and thy leave, m)' 
 knight ? ' she asked. 
 
 Then Ralph caught her in his arms and kissed 
 her, as if tiie fatal bride-ale had been but the da)- 
 before. 
 
 So it came to pass that Ral[)h de Guader, witii many 
 of his vassals, joined the standard of the Duke of 
 Normandy, and took his lady with him. With them
 
 344 CONCLUSION. 
 
 went also Eadgyth of Norwich, faithful in all things, 
 and unmarried still, having met no champion who 
 could compass that in which her kinsman Leofric 
 Ealdredsson had failed ; her fair face still winsome, with 
 its frame of soft yellow hair, and her blue eyes pathetic 
 and serious. 
 
 In August 1096, De Guader led his knights to swell 
 the great army of Crusaders then assembling on the 
 banks of the Moselle, with Godfrey de Bouillon at its 
 head, that ' very parfit gentil knight ' and mirror of 
 chivalry, whom all historians agree to praise, not only 
 for spotless morals and untarnished honour and the 
 high ideal he upheld before the face of the world, but 
 for the 'consummate skill and patient perseverance, 
 self-possession and presence of mind,' by which alone 
 such a host of turbulent and independent chiefs as 
 that which he commanded could have been led to 
 victory. 
 
 As De Guader and his lady rode into the great camp 
 beside the blue Moselle, a knight came forward to 
 conduct them to the quarters which had been assigned 
 to them. He had a worn ascetic face, seamed with scars 
 and lighted by the large sombre eyes of a dreamer of 
 day-dreams, his spare figure witnessing to a life of hard 
 service and activity. 
 
 He met De Guader's lady with a sweet smile of 
 reverence and recognition ; but when he saw her com- 
 panion, Eadgyth of Norwich, a flush passed over his 
 bronzed cheeks and up into his forehead as far as it 
 could be seen under his helm.
 
 CONCLUSION. ' 345 
 
 ' Sir Aimand dc Sourdeval ! ' cried Emma, with a 
 quick movement of delight. ' Welcome the sight of thy 
 brave, true face amidst this host of God.' Then she 
 called back her husband, that he might pardon and be 
 pardoned for what had happened in the old, sad days, 
 and Ralph did so with the free, candid generosity of 
 the times, which were saturated with the spirit we strive 
 to keep alive in our public schools to this day — free 
 fight and no malice borne. 
 
 Sir Aimand was one of Messire Godfrey's most 
 trusted knights, whom the commander held in close 
 attendance on his person ; heart and soul in the Holy 
 War, full of joy that so great a thing was going 
 forward. 
 
 ' You leave not wife or child by a lone hearthstone, 
 Sir Knight?' asked Kmma, feeling sure that the answer 
 would be ' Nay.' 
 
 And ' Nay ' it was. ' The lady of m)- choice would 
 not have me, noble dame,' he answered in a low voice, 
 scarcely daring to look at Eadgyth ; ' a leal knight loves 
 not twice.' 
 
 * But she will have thee now,' said Emma, and, taking 
 Eadgyth's hand, she laid it in hi.s. Nor did ICadgyth 
 withdraw it. 
 
 Before the host of the Crusaders had moved from the 
 Moselle, the Norman and the Saxon had vowed to be 
 one. 
 
 Did they see the Ilol)- Gil}' together with the eyes 
 of the flesh? Did De Guader and his faithful con.sort 
 see it? History answers not: it tells us only that
 
 346 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Ralph and Emma died together somewhere near 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 Whatever their faults, whatever their sins, at least 
 they were true to each other, and died fulfilling what the 
 judgment of the time esteemed the holiest of duties.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Note A. The Marriage of Ralph de Guader. 
 
 The bridal of Ralph dc Guader to Emma Fitzosbem is very 
 fully described by the chroniclers, and 1 liave endeavoured to 
 keep as closely as possible to history. Ikit thouyh I ha\c searched 
 at least half-a-score authorities, ancient and modern, every one 
 of whom states that many abbots and bishops were amonj( the 
 company, in no case is the name of any ecclesiastic recorded. I 
 have therefore taken a liberty with the Abbot of St. Alljans, of 
 whom Freeman says : ' All tliat certain histor)- has to say about 
 Frithric is, that he was Abbot of St. Albans, and that he died or 
 was deposed some time Ijetween 1075 -'"'^ 1077.' These dates 
 would make it not impossible that he attended the bridal, and 
 tradition represents him as a very active worker in the patriotic 
 cause of the Saxon Church, and the untiring ojiponent of Lanfranc. 
 
 Note H. Norwich Castle. 
 
 Harrod, Casi/es and Com'cnis, \>. 145. Some later arclKvrologists 
 are of opinion that the castle built by William the Conqueror was 
 so injured in the siege that it had to be rebuilt, and the chronicler, 
 Henry de Knyghton, under date iioo, ascribes its erection to 
 William Rufus. All agree that a line Norman castle was built on 
 the old Saxon earthworks by the Conqueror, though they difter 
 as to whether the existing keep is the one then erected. 
 
 347
 
 348 APPENDIX. 
 
 Note C. De Guader's Defeat. 
 
 It is to be remarked that none of the chroniclers, Norman 
 or Enghsh, say anything of this encounter of Odo and Ralph. 
 Nor do they notice Ralph's wound. What they do say is that 
 De Guader was defeated at a place called Fagaduna. Lingard 
 suggests that this name is probably a translation of Beacham, in 
 Norfolk, and the theory is rendered more probable by the fact that 
 Beachamwell St. Mary was anciently divided into two parishes, 
 Beacham and Welle. But eight miles from this is the village 
 of Fouldon, which name, according to Blomefield, is a corruption 
 of its old Saxon cognomen. ' At the Great Survey, this town occurs 
 by the name of Fulgaduna, Fulendon and Phuldon, and takes its 
 name from the plenty of wild fowl which frequented it, it being 
 seated in the midst of fens and morasses. Fiigol, in Saxon, signifies 
 wild fowl, and in some antique writings 'tis wrote Fugeldune.' 
 What a slight misunderstanding of a strange name, or slip of the 
 pen, might change this word into Fagaduna I 
 
 Note D. De Guader and Waltheof. 
 
 The chroniclers called Ralph's emljarkation from Norwich a 
 flight ; while modern historians accuse the stout earl of not daring 
 to stand the siege in his own person, and of leaving the bride for 
 whom he had risked so much to sustain dangers he feared to face. 
 
 Ralph was unfortunate in offending all parties. Chroniclers of 
 Norman sympathies hated him for his rebellion against William ; 
 Saxons for fighting against his people at Senlac : neither had any 
 motive to say a good word for him, while they canonized Waltheof 
 as a saint, ^ — Waltheof, who surely earned the name of traitor 
 as richly as ever did Ralph, since he entered in the conspiracy 
 against William, after having voluntarily accepted the hand of 
 the Conqueror's niece in marriage, and binding himself under a 
 solemn form of fealty ; then, to shield himself, acted the ever- 
 hateful part of an informer.
 
 APPENDIX. 349 
 
 Hugh and Roger Bigod, Ralph's successors in the earldom of 
 Norfolk, are spoken of as worthy bearers of the title. Yet Hugh 
 rebelled, first against King Stephen, and afterwards against Henry 
 II. ; and Roger wrested a charter from Richard I., in which the 
 inhabitants of Norwich were first recognised as citizens, and after- 
 wards joined the barons against King John, being one of the fore- 
 most of those who forced him to sign Magna Charta. It may be 
 said that the treasons of the Bigods were justified by their ends, to 
 obtain liberty for the people ; but it must not be forgotten that 
 Ralph de Guader alleged as his motive the intolerable oppression 
 of the Saxons under the rdgiiite of William's subordinates. 
 
 Victor Hugo, writing of the good service done to English liberty 
 by the jealous watch kept by the barons on the crown, and by 
 their determined resistance of all royal encroachments, says : ' Des 
 1075 Ics barons sc font sentir au roi. Et h quel roi ! A Guiliaume 
 le Conquerant !' The date thus given is that of the rebellion of I)c 
 Guader and Hereford. 
 
 Note E. The Sieoe of Norwich Casti.e. 
 
 All that certain history has to tell of this siege of Norwich Castle, 
 is that De Guader left it in the hands of his countess and knights, 
 the names of the latter not being given ; that they were attacked 
 by the king's forces under the leaders named in the te.vt, armed 
 with all the mechanical inventions of the day ; that the countess 
 lu'id it fill three months, and gave it up on the terms related 
 through lack of provisions ; and that she lejoined her husband 
 in Brittany. W'liy he had not appeared to relieve his castle is not 
 recorded. 
 
 These details may be found in ( )rderic \'italis, Matthew Paris, 
 Florence of Worcester, the Chronicles of Worcester and Peter- 
 borough, and in all modern historians ulin deal with the period, 
 perhaps the best account being that of Krecman in the fourth 
 volume of his Norman Conquest^ a work abounding in interest 
 and spirited description.
 
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