rom the
large majority of Norman nobles.

But William's brow was still dark, and his eye still stern; for his
policy confirmed his passions; and it was only by stigmatising, as
dishonoured and accursed, the memory and cause of the dead King, that he
could justify the sweeping spoliation of those who had fought against
himself, and confiscate the lands to which his own Quens and warriors
looked for their reward.

The murmurs had just died into a thrilling hush, when a woman, who had
followed the monks unperceived and unheeded, passed with a swift and
noiseless step to the Duke's foot-stool; and, without bending knee to the
ground, said, in a voice which, though low, was heard by all:

"Norman, in the name of the women of England, I tell thee that thou
darest not do this wrong to the hero who died in defence of their hearths
and their children!"

Before she spoke she had thrown back her hood; her hair dishevelled, fell
over her shoulders, glittering like gold, in the blaze of the
banquet-lights; and that wondrous beauty, without parallel amidst the
dames of England, shone like the vision of an accusing angel, on the eyes
of the startled Duke, and the breathless knights. But twice in her life
Edith beheld that awful man. Once, when roused from her reverie of
innocent love by the holiday pomp of his trumps and banners, the
childlike maid stood at the foot of the grassy knoll; and once again,
when in the hour of his triumph, and amidst the wrecks of England on the
field of Sanguelac, with a soul surviving the crushed and broken heart,
the faith of the lofty woman defended the Hero Dead.

There, with knee unbent, and form unquailing, with marble cheek, and
haughty eye, she faced the Conqueror; and, as she ceased, his noble
barons broke into bold applause.

"Who art thou?" said William, if not daunted at least amazed. "Methinks I
have seen thy face before; thou art not Harold's wife or sister?"

"Dread lord," said Osgood; "she was the betrothed of Harold; but, as
within the degrees of kin, the Church forbade their union, and they
obeyed the Church."

Out from the banquet-throng stepped Mallet de Graville. "O my liege,"
said he "thou hast promised me lands and earldom; instead of these gifts
undeserved, bestow on me the right to bury and to honour the remains of
Harold; today I took from him my life, let me give all I can in return--a
grave!"

William paused, but the sentiment of the assembly, so clearly pronounce