I.

"And now," said William, reclining on a long and narrow couch, with
raised carved work all round it like a box (the approved fashion of a bed
in those days), "now, Sire Taillefer--thy news."

There were then in the Duke's chamber, the Count Fitzosborne, Lord of
Breteuil, surnamed "the Proud Spirit"--who, with great dignity, was
holding before the brazier the ample tunic of linen (called dormitorium
in the Latin of that time, and night-rail in the Saxon tongue) in which
his lord was to robe his formidable limbs for repose [62],--Taillefer,
who stood erect before the Duke as a Roman sentry at his post,--and the
ecclesiastic, a little apart, with arms gathered under his gown, and his
bright dark eyes fixed on the ground.

"High and puissant, my liege," then said Taillefer, gravely, and with a
shade of sympathy on his large face, "my news is such as is best told
briefly: Bunaz, Count d'Eu and descendant of Richard Sanspeur, hath
raised the standard of revolt."

"Go on," said the Duke, clenching his hand.

"Henry, King of the French, is treating with the rebel, and stirring up
mutiny in thy realm, and pretenders to thy throne."

"Ha!" said the Duke, and his lip quivered; "this is not all."

"No, my liege! and the worst is to come. Thy uncle Mauger, knowing that
thy heart is bent on thy speedy nuptials with the high and noble damsel,
Matilda of Flanders, has broken out again in thine absence--is preaching
against thee in hall and from pulpit. He declares that such espousals
are incestuous, both as within the forbidden degrees, and inasmuch as
Adele, the lady's mother, was betrothed to thine uncle Richard; and
Mauger menaces excommunication if my liege pursues his suit! [63] So
troubled is the realm, that I, waiting not for debate in council, and
fearing sinister ambassage if I did so, took ship from thy port of
Cherbourg, and have not flagged rein, and scarce broken bread, till I
could say to the heir of Rolf the Founder--Save thy realm from the men of
mail, and thy bride from the knaves in serge."

"Ho, ho!" cried William; then bursting forth in full wrath, as he sprang
from the couch. "Hearest thou this, Lord Seneschal? Seven years, the
probation of the patriarch, have I wooed and waited; and lo, in the
seventh, does a proud priest say to me, 'Wrench the love from thy
heart-strings!'--Excommunicate me--ME--William, the son of Robert the
Devil! Ha, by God's splendour, Mauger shall live to wish the father
s