1 A QUARREL

The great Abbey of Westminster was approaching its completion; an

army of masons and labourers swarmed like bees upon and around it, and

although differing widely in its massive architecture, with round Saxon windows

and arches, from the edifice that was two or three generations later to be reared

in its place,—to serve as a still more fitting tomb for the ashes of its pious

founder,—it was a stately abbey, rivalling the most famous of the English fanes

of the period.

From his palace hard by King Edward had watched with the deepest

interest the erection of the minster that was the dearest object of his life. The

King was surrounded by Normans, the people among whom he had lived until

called from his retirement to ascend the throne of England, and whom he loved

far better than those over whom he reigned. He himself still lived almost the life

of a recluse. He was sincerely anxious for the good of his people, but took small

pains to ensure it, his life being largely passed in religious devotions, and in

watching over the rise of the abbey he had founded.

A town had risen around minster and palace, and here the workmen

employed found their lodgings, while craftsmen of all descriptions administered

to the wants both of these and of the nobles of Edward's court.

From one of the side doors of the palace a page, some fifteen or sixteen

years of age, ran down the steps in haste. He was evidently a Saxon by his fair

hair and fresh complexion, and any observer of the time would have seen that he

must, therefore, be in the employment of Earl Harold, the great minister, who

had for many years virtually ruled England in the name of its king.

The young page was strongly and sturdily built. His garb was an English

one, but with some admixture of Norman fashions. He wore tightly-fitting leg

coverings, a garment somewhat resembling a blouse of blue cloth girded in by a

belt at the waist, and falling in folds to the knee. Over his shoulders hung a short

mantle of orange colour with a hood. On his head was a cap with a wide brim

that was turned up closely behind, and projected in a pointed shovel shape in

front. In his belt was a small dagger. He wore shoes of light yellow leather

fastened by bands over the insteps. As he ran down the steps of the palace he

came into sharp contact with another page who had just turned the corner of the

street.

"I crave your pardon, Walter Fitz-Urse," he said hurriedly, "but I was in

haste and saw you not."

The other lad was as clearly Norman as the speaker was Saxon. He was

perhaps a year the senior in point of age, and taller by half a head, but was of

slighter build. The expression of his face differed as widely from that of the

Saxon as did his swarthy complexion and dark hair, for while the latter face

wore a frank and pleasant expression, that of the Norman was haughty and

arrogant.

"You did it on purpose," he said angrily, "and were we not under the

shadow of the palace I would chastise you as you deserve."

The smile died suddenly out from the Saxon's face. "Chastise me!" he

repeated. "You would find it somewhat difficult, Master Fitz-Urse. Do you think

you are talking to a Norman serf? You will please to remember you are in

England; but if you are not satisfied with my apology, I will ride with you a few

miles into the country, and we will then try with equal arms where the

chastisement is to fall."

The Norman put his hand to his dagger, but there was an ominous growl

from some men who had paused to listen to the quarrel.

"You are an insolent boor, Wulf of Steyning, and some day I will punish

you as you deserve."

"Some day," the Saxon laughed, "we shall, I hope, see you and all your

tribe sent across the Channel. There are few of us here who would not see your

backs with pleasure."

"What is this?" an imperious voice demanded; and turning round, Wulf

saw William, the Norman Bishop of London, who, followed by several monks

and pages, had pushed his way through the crowd. "Walter Fitz-Urse, what

means this altercation?"

"The Saxon ran against me of set purpose, my lord," Walter Fitz-Urse

said, in tones of deep humility, "and because I complained he challenged me to

ride with him into the country to fight, and then he said he hoped that some day

all the Normans would be sent across the Channel."

"Is this so?" the prelate said sternly to Wulf; "did you thus insult not only

my page, but all of us, his countrymen?"

"I ran against him by accident," Wulf said, looking up fearlessly in the

prelate's face. "I apologized, though I know not that I was more in fault than he;

but instead of taking my apology as one of gentle blood should do, he spoke like

a churl, and threatened me with chastisement, and then I did say that I hoped he

and all other Normans in the land would some day be packed across the

Channel."

"Your ears ought to be slit as an insolent varlet."

"I meant no insolence, my Lord Bishop; and as to the slitting of my ears, I

fancy Earl Harold, my master, would have something to say on that score."

The prelate was about to reply, but glancing at the angry faces of the

growing crowd, he said coldly:

"I shall lay the matter before him. Come, Walter, enough of this. You are

also somewhat to blame for not having received more courteously the apologies

of this saucy page."

The crowd fell back with angry mutterings as he turned, and, followed by

Walter Fitz-Urse and the ecclesiastics, made his way along the street to the

principal entrance of the palace. Without waiting to watch his departure, Wulf,

the Saxon page, pushed his way through the crowd, and went off at full speed to

carry the message with which he had been charged.

"Our king is a good king," a squarely-built man,—whose bare arms with

the knotted muscles showing through the skin, and hands begrimed with

charcoal, indicated that he was a smith,—remarked to a gossip as the little

crowd broke up, "but it is a grievous pity that he was brought up a Norman, still

more that he was not left in peace to pass his life as a monk as he desired. He fills

the land with his Normans; soon as an English bishop dies, straightway a

Norman is clapped into his place. All the offices at court are filled with them, and

it is seldom a word of honest English is spoken in the palace. The Norman castles

are rising over the land, and his favourites divide among them the territory of

every English earl or thane who incurs the king's displeasure. Were it not for

Earl Harold, one might as well be under Norman sway altogether."

"Nay, nay, neighbour Ulred, matters are not so bad as that. I dare say they

would have been as you say had it not been for Earl Godwin and his sons. But it

was a great check that Godwin gave them when he returned after his

banishment, and the Norman bishops and nobles hurried across the seas in a

panic. For years now the king has left all matters in the hands of Harold, and is

well content if only he can fast and pray like any monk, and give all his thoughts

and treasure to the building of yonder abbey."

"We want neither a monk nor a Norman over us," the smith said roughly,

"still less one who is both Norman and monk I would rather have a Dane, like

Canute, who was a strong man and a firm one, than this king, who, I doubt not, is

full of good intentions, and is a holy and pious monarch, but who is not strong

enough for a ruler. He leaves it to another to preserve England in peace, to keep

in order the great Earls of Mercia and the North, to hold the land against Harold

of Norway, Sweyn, and others, and, above all, to watch the Normans across the

water. A monk is well enough in a convent, but truly 'tis bad for a country to

have a monk as its king."

"There have been some war-loving prelates, Ulred; men as ambitious as

any of the great earls, and more dangerous, because they have learning."

"Ay, there have been great prelates," the smith agreed. "Look at Lyfing of

Worcester, to whom next only to Godwin the king owed his throne. He was an

Englishman first and a bishop afterwards, and was a proof, if needed, that a man

can be a great churchman and a great patriot and statesman too. It was he rather

than Godwin who overcame the opposition of the Danish party, and got the

Witan at last to acquiesce in the choice of London and Wessex, and to give their

vote to Edward.

"Well was it he did so. For had he failed we should have had as great a

struggle in England as when Alfred battled against the Danes. We of London and

the men of Wessex under the great Earl were bent upon being ruled by a prince

of our own blood. The last two Danish kings had shown us that anything is

better than being governed by the Northmen. It was Lyfing who persuaded the

Earl of Mercia to side with Wessex rather than with Northumbria, but since

Lyfing, what great Englishman have we had in the church? Every bishopric was

granted by Edward to Norman priests, until Godwin and his sons got the upper

hand after their exile. Since then most of them have been given to Germans. It

would seem that the king was so set against Englishmen that only by bringing in

foreigners can Harold prevent all preferment going to Normans. But what is the

consequence? They say now that our church is governed from Rome, whereas

before Edward's time we Englishmen did not think of taking our orders from

Italy.

"There will trouble come of it all, neighbour. Perhaps not so long as

Edward reigns, but at his death. There is but one of the royal race surviving, and

he, like Edward, has lived all his life abroad. There can be no doubt what the choice of Englishmen will be. Harold has been our real ruler for years. He is wise

and politic as well as brave, and a great general. He is our own earl, and will

assuredly be chosen. Then we shall have trouble with the Normans. Already they

bear themselves as if they were our masters, and they will not give up their hold

without a struggle. Men say that William, their duke, makes no secret of his hope

to become master of England, in which case God help us all. But that won't come

as long as Harold lives and Englishmen can wield sword and battle-axe. As for

myself, I have patched many a Norman suit of armour, but, by St. Swithin, I shall

have far more pleasure in marring than I have ever had in mending them."

"Know you who were the boys who had that contention just now?"

"The Norman is a page of William, our Norman bishop; I know no more of

him than that the other is Wulf, who is a ward and page of Earl Harold. His father

was thane of Steyning in South Sussex, one of Godwin's men, and at his death

two years ago Harold took the lad into his household, for he bore great affection

for Gyrth, who had accompanied him in his pilgrimage to Rome, and fought by

his side when he conquered the Welsh. It was there Gyrth got the wound that at

last brought about his death. Wulf has been to my smithy many times,

sometimes about matters of repairs to arms, but more often, I think, to see my

son Osgod. He had seen him once or twice in calling at the shop, when one day

Osgod, who is somewhat given to mischief, was playing at ball, and drove it into

the face of a son of one of the Norman lords at court. The boy drew his dagger,

and there would have been blood shed, but Wulf, who was passing at the time,

and saw that the thing was a pure mishap and not the result of set intention,

threw himself between them.

"There was a great fuss over it, for the boy took his tale to his father, who

demanded that Osgod should be punished, and would doubtless have gained his

end had not Wulf spoken to Earl Harold, who intervened in the matter and

persuaded the Norman to let it drop. Since then the boys have been great friends

in their way. Osgod is a year older than the young thane, and has already made

up his mind to be his man when he grows up, and he has got me to agree to it,

though I would rather that he had stuck to my handicraft. Still, the prospect is

not a bad one. Harold will be King of England, Wulf will be a powerful thane, and

will doubtless some day hold high place at court, and as he seems to have taken

a real liking to Osgod, the boy may have good chances.

"Wulf will make a good fighting man one of these days. Harold sees that

all his pages are well instructed in arms, and the two boys often have a bout with

blunted swords when Wulf comes to my smithy; and, by my faith, though I have

taught Osgod myself, and he already uses his arms well, the young thane is fully

a match for him. You would hardly believe that the boy can read as well as a

monk, but it is so. Earl Harold, you know, thinks a good deal of education, and

has founded a college at Waltham. He persuaded Wulf's father to send him there,

and, indeed, will take none as his pages unless they can read. I see not what good

reading can do to most men, but doubtless for one who is at court and may hold

some day a high post there, it is useful to be able to read deeds and grants of

estates, instead of having to trust others' interpretation."

"I wondered to see you press forward so suddenly into the crowd,

neighbour, seeing that you are a busy man, but I understand now that you had

an interest in the affair."

"That had I. I was holding myself in readiness, if that Norman boy drew

his dagger, to give him such a blow across the wrist with my cudgel that it would

be long before he handled a weapon again. I fear Wulf has got himself into

trouble. The bishop will doubtless complain to the king of the language used by

one of Harold's pages, and though the earl is well able to see that no harm comes

to the lad, it is likely he will send him away to his estates for a time. For he

strives always to avoid quarrels and disputes, and though he will not give way a

jot in matters where it seems to him that the good of the realm is concerned, he

will go much farther lengths than most men would do in the way of conciliation.

Look how he has borne with Tostig and with the Earls of Mercia. He seems to

have no animosity in his nature, but is ready to forgive all injuries as soon as

pardon is asked."

The smith was not far wrong in his opinion as to what was likely to

happen. As soon as Wulf returned to the palace he was told that the earl desired

his presence, and he proceeded at once to the apartment where Harold

transacted public business. It was a hall of considerable size; the floor was

strewed with rushes; three scribes sat at a table, and to them the earl dictated

his replies and decisions on the various matters brought before him. When he

saw Wulf enter he rose from his seat, and, beckoning to him to follow, pushed

aside the hangings across a door leading to an apartment behind and went in.

Wulf had no fear whatever of any severe consequence to himself from his quarrel with Walter Fitz-Urse, but he was ashamed that his thoughtlessness

should have given the slightest trouble to the earl, for, popular as he was among

all classes of men in southern England, Harold was an object of love as well as

respect to his dependents, and indeed to all who came in close contact with him.

The earl was now forty-one years of age. He was very tall, and was

considered the strongest man in England. His face was singularly handsome,

with an expression of mingled gentleness and firmness. His bearing was

courteous to all. He united a frank and straightforward manner with a polished

address rare among his rough countrymen. Harold had travelled more and

farther than any Englishman of his age. He had visited foreign courts and

mingled with people more advanced in civilization than were those of England

or Normandy, and was centuries ahead of the mass of his countrymen. He was

an ardent advocate of education, a strong supporter of the national church, an

upholder of the rights of all men, and although he occasionally gave way to

bursts of passion, was of a singularly sweet and forgiving disposition.

King Edward was respected by his people because, coming after two

utterly worthless kings, he had an earnest desire for their good, although that

desire seldom led to any very active results. He was a member of their own royal

house. He was deeply religious. His life was pure and simple, and although all his

tastes and sympathies were with the land in which he had been brought up,

Englishmen forgave him this because at least he was a Saxon, while his

predecessors had been Danes. But while they respected Edward, for Harold,

their real ruler, they felt a passionate admiration. He was a worthy

representative of all that was best in the Saxon character. He possessed in an

eminent degree the openness of nature, the frank liberality, the indomitable

bravery, and the endurance of hardship that distinguished the race. He was Earl

of the West Saxons, and as such had special claims to their fealty.

London, it was true, did not lie in his earldom, but in that of his brother

Leofwyn, but Leofwyn and Harold were as one—true brothers in heart and in

disposition. The gentleness and courtesy of manner that, although natural, had

been softened and increased by Harold's contact with foreigners, was not only

pardoned but admired because he was England's champion against foreigners.

He had fought, and victoriously, alike against the Norwegians, the Danes of

Northumbria, and the Welsh, and he struggled as sturdily, though peacefully,

against Norman influence in England. Already the dread of Norman preponderance was present in the minds of Englishmen. It was no secret that in

his early days Edward had held out hopes, if he had not given an actual promise,

to William of Normandy that he should succeed him. Of late the king had been

somewhat weaned from his Norman predilections, and had placed himself

unreservedly in Harold's hands, giving to the latter all real power while he

confined himself to the discharge of religious exercises, and to the supervision of

the building of his abbey, varied occasionally by hunting expeditions, for he still

retained a passionate love of the chase; but men knew that the warlike Duke of

Normandy would not be likely to forget the promise, and that trouble might

come to England from over the sea.

Harold, then, they not only regarded as their present ruler, but as their

future king, and as the national leader and champion. Edward had no children.

The royal house was extinct save for Edward the Atheling, who, like the present

king, had lived all his life abroad, and could have no sympathy with Englishmen.

There being, then, no one of the royal house available, who but Harold, the head

of the great house of Godwin, the earl of the West Saxons, the virtual ruler of

England, could be chosen? The English kings, although generally selected from

the royal house, ruled rather by the election of the people as declared by their

representatives in the Witan than by their hereditary right. The prince next in

succession by blood might, at the death of the sovereign, be called king, but he

was not really a monarch until elected by the Witan and formally consecrated.

It had been nine months after he had been acclaimed to the throne by the

people of London that King Edward had been elected king by the Witan, and

formally enthroned. Thus, then, the fact that Harold did not belong to the royal

family mattered but little in the eyes of Englishmen. To them belonged the right

of choosing their own monarch, and if they chose him, who was to say them nay?

Wulf felt uncomfortable as he followed the stately figure into the inner

room, but he faced the Earl as the door closed behind him with as fearless a look

as that with which he had stood before the haughty prelate of London. A slight

smile played upon Harold's face as he looked down upon the boy.

"You are a troublesome varlet, Wulf, and the Lord Bishop has been

making serious complaint of you to the king. He says that you brawled with his

page, Walter Fitz-Urse; that you used insolent words against his countrymen;

and that you even withstood himself. What have you to say to this?"

"The brawling was on the part of the bishop's page and not of mine, my

lord. I was running out to carry the message with which you charged me to

Ernulf of Dover when I ran against Fitz-Urse. That was not my fault, but a pure

mischance, nevertheless I expressed my regret in fitting terms. Instead of

accepting them, he spoke insolently, talked of chastising me, and put his hand on

the hilt of his dagger. Then, my lord, I grew angry too. Why should I, the page of

Earl Harold, submit to be thus contemptuously spoken to by this young Norman,

who is but the page of an upstart bishop, and whom, if your lordship will give

permission, I would right willingly fight, with swords or any other weapons.

Doubtless, in my anger, I did not speak respectfully of Walter's countrymen, and

for this I am sorry, since it has been the ground of complaint and of trouble to

you."

"In fact, Wulf, you spoke as a quarrelsome boy and not as the page of one

who has the cares of this kingdom on his shoulders, and whose great desire is to

keep peace between all parties," the earl put in gravely.

For the first time Wulf hung his head:

"I was wrong, my lord."

"You were wrong, Wulf; it is not good always to say what we think; and

you, as my page, should bear in mind that here at court it behoves you to behave

and to speak not as a headstrong boy, but as one whose words may, rightly or

wrongly, be considered as an echo of those you may have heard from me. And

now to the third charge, that you withstood the prelate; a matter that, in the

king's eyes, is a very serious one."

"The bishop would give ear to nought I had to say. He listened to his own

page's account and not to mine, and when I said in my defence that though I did

use the words about the Normans, I did so merely as one boy quarrelling with

the other, he said I ought to have my ears slit. Surely, my lord, a free-born thane

is not to be spoken to even by a Norman bishop as if he were a Norman serf. I

only replied that before there was any slitting of ears your lordship would have

a say in the matter. So far, I admit, I did withstand the bishop, and I see not how I

could have made other reply."

"It would have been better to have held your peace altogether, Wulf."

"It would, my lord, but it would also surely have been better had the

bishop abstained from talking about slitting ears "That would have been better also, but two wrongs do not make a right. I

was present when the bishop made his complaint, and upon my inquiring more

into the matter, his version was somewhat similar to yours. I then pointed out to

him that if holy bishops lost their tempers and used threats that were beyond

their power to carry into effect, they must not be too severe upon boys who

forget the respect due to their office. Nevertheless, I admitted that you were

wrong, and I promised the king, who was perhaps more disturbed by this

incident than there was any occasion for, that I would take you to task seriously,

and that to avoid any further brawl between you and young Fitz-Urse, you

should for a time be sent away from court. I did this on the agreement that the

bishop should, on his part, admonish Walter Fitz-Urse against discourteous

behaviour and unseemly brawling, and had I known that he had put his hand on

his dagger, I would have gone further. Have you any witnesses that he did so?"

"Yes, my lord; I saw the smith Ulred among those standing by, and

doubtless he would see the action."

"That is well," Harold said. "I shall acquaint the bishop with the fact when

I tell him that I have ordered you to leave for your estate at Steyning, and that if

his page denies it, I have witnesses to prove the truth of your assertions. I think

in that case he will be glad to drop the matter, for were I to mention the fact to

the king, he, who has a horror of the drawing of weapons, would order Walter

Fitz-Urse to be sent back to Normandy. So your exile is not likely to be of long

duration. You understand, Wulf, that I am not seriously angered with you in this

matter. You are but a boy, and one cannot expect that you will behave as a

prudent man; but remember, lad, even a boy's words may do mischief, especially

when placed as you are. There may come a time when you shall show by deeds

and not by words your feelings against the Normans, but till then bear yourself

prudently. We Saxons are over given to hasty words, and this is a fault. I myself,

as all men know, have no love for the Normans, but no one has heard me speak

against them. The king loves them, as is but natural, seeing that he was brought

up amongst them, and I have not withstood his wishes in the matter, trying only

that a certain amount of preferment in the land should be bestowed upon those

who are its owners and not strangers to it and its tongue. You will ride this

afternoon for Steyning, Wulf, but I hope it will not be long before you are back

again. If I had my own way in the matter, I should think that sufficient had

already been said and done in so trifling a matter as a boys' quarrel; but as it has been brought before our king by a bishop, it is in the king's eyes a serious

business, for assuredly he himself would have borne a reproof from William of

London more meekly than you did, and having therefore become a church

matter, it is altogether beyond my power to interfere. At any rate, a short

sojourn on your estate will do you no harm; it is sometime since you were there,

and it is a good thing that the lord of the soil should be well known by those over

whom he is placed."

Wulf bowed deeply and withdrew. The prospect of a visit for a few weeks

or even months to Steyning was not a terrible one. It was some years since he

had stayed there for any time. He had been two years at Waltham, and since his

father's death had been for the most part with Harold, and the thought of an

unrestricted life and of spending his time as he chose, hunting and hawking, and

going about among his tenants, was by no means unpleasant. He was quite

satisfied that Harold was not seriously angered with him, and for anything else

he cared little.

As he understood that his duties as a page were at present at an end, he

thought he would first call upon Ulred the smith, to ask him if he had seen

Walter Fitz-Urse handle his dagger, and also to tell Osgod that he was going

away for a time. He found the smith at work.

"Good morning, Master Wulf; though this is not the first time I have seen

you today, for I was at hand when you had that quarrel with the Norman page."

"Yes, I caught sight of your face, Ulred. It was about that I have come to

you. The bishop has made complaint against me to the king, and Earl Harold has

ordered me to go down to Steyning for a time. Of course I acted wrongly in

speaking as I did to the bishop, but so far as Walter Fitz-Urse is concerned I

maintain that I did no wrong. I told my lord as much, and that the Norman put

hand upon his dagger. The earl said that if I could prove that it would benefit my

case. I told him that I had seen you close by, but that I did not know whether you

saw the page do it."

"Assuredly I did," the smith replied, "and had my cudgel in readiness to

tap him on the wrist if he had drawn his dagger. I would testify the same before

King Edward himself."

"Thank you, Ulred, I will tell my lord so."

"I am sorry you are to be sent away from court. That is a bad job, Master

Wulf, and Osgod here will miss you greatly."

"That shall I," the lad said. "Could you not take me down with you, young

master? You could teach me there how to comport myself as your squire, so that

when the time comes that you need one, I should know my duties. Besides, you

could practise on me with sword and battle-axe."

"I could not do much in the way of teaching you, Osgod, seeing as yet I am

myself but a learner, but I should be glad, in truth, to have you with me, and it

would be good for me to keep up my practice in arms. I shall feel almost like a

stranger there, and should like to have one I know with me. I could ask Earl

Harold to let me have a horse for you from his stables, where he has two or three

score doing nothing."

"With your favour, sir, I would rather trust to my own feet. I am a stout

walker, and though I shall not be able to keep up with you, I think that each night

I can get to the hostelrie where you may put up; but, if not, it matters little, I can

make my way after you and join you there—that is, if my father will give me

permission to go."

"You may as well go sooner as later," the smith said. "Since you have

taken into your head that you will be Master Wulf's man, I see not that it will

benefit you remaining in the forge. You know enough now to mend a broken

rivet and to do such repairs to helm and armour as may be needed on an

expedition; therefore, if the young thane is minded to take you I have naught to

say against it."

"Then so shall it be," Wulf said, "I shall see my Lord Harold before I start,

and will tell him that you are minded to be my man, and that I am minded so to

take you. He will not object, I am sure, but it were best to ask him, since, when I

return to court, I shall have you about me."

"When do you start, Master Wulf?"

"I am ordered to go to-day; therefore, as soon as I have seen the earl

again I shall be off."

"Where will you sleep to-night?"

"I shall ride to Guildford this afternoon."

"Then you had better lay aside your hammer at once, Osgod," the smith

said, "and don fresh clothes, and make your best suit into a bundle and start

without delay; it is but ten o'clock, and you may be at Guildford before sunset.

'Tis but thirty miles, and eight hours' walking will take you there. If the young thane tells you that Lord Harold makes objection to his taking you, you can turn

your face backward to-morrow and no harm will be done."

"I shall overtake you before you are half-way, Osgod, and can then take

you up behind me on my horse; and now I will go back to the palace. I may have

to wait some time before I can see Earl Harold. From sunrise to sunset he has

but a few moments to himself, and I shall have to watch my time to get a word

with him."

It was not, indeed, until two o'clock in the afternoon that Wulf had a

chance of speaking to the duke. Then, seeing that he was for the moment alone,

he entered the room and stood with bowed head waiting for Harold to address

him.

"So you have come to say good-bye, Wulf," the latter said kindly; "it is

best so, boy. A time in the country will do you good, and there will be much for

you to do down there. I have ordered two of my men to be in readiness to mount

and ride with you, for I would not that you should go unattended. One of them

will bear a message from me and a letter under my hand to the steward, and will

tell him that although you will, of course, remain as my ward until you come of

age, you are in all respects to be treated as if you were already my sworn man,

and thane. It would be well if you could gather among your tenants twenty stout

men as house-carls. The steward is ordered to pay to you whatever moneys you

may require, and to account for them to me when he sends me in his checkers.

These house-carls will, of course, be paid. There must be ample store of armour

at Steyning for them, for your father was followed by forty house-carls when he

went with me to the Welsh wars. One of the men who goes with you is a stout

man-at-arms and is one of my own house-carls; he will remain with you and will

instruct your men in arms and teach them to fight shoulder to shoulder. There

may be bad times ere long, and it is upon trained troops and not upon hasty

levies that we must most depend. In time I trust you will be able to place fifty

such men in the field, but at present twenty will suffice. Have you aught to say to

me before you go?"

"Yes, my lord; first, to thank you for your kindness, and to say that I will

carry out your instructions; secondly, to tell you that Ulred the smith saw Walter

Fitz-Urse handle his dagger, and was standing ready to knock it from his hand

did he draw it. Lastly, that Ulred's son Osgod, who is a stout lad a year older than

myself, and for his age well accustomed to arms, desires to be sworn as my man and to serve me in hall and in field. I like him much and have almost daily

practised with him in arms, and I should be glad to have him with me if you see

no objection."

"Not at all, Wulf; it is well that a man should have at his side one in whom

he can altogether trust, be he of gentle blood or simple man-at-arms."

"Then I may take him down with me, my lord?"

"Yes, if it pleases you. Can he ride?"

"Not as yet, my lord, I will see that he is instructed down at Steyning. He

started to walk this morning, understanding that if you refused him permission

to be my man he would at once return. We shall overtake him on the road."

"Bid one of your escort take him up behind," the earl said, "I like his

spirit. See that he is fittingly apparelled. You shall hear from me ere long."

Half an hour later Wulf mounted, and with his two followers rode from

Westminster.