sumed him,--to remind his
cousin of the vague promise in their youth, that the Norman Count should
succeed to that "thorny throne:" but the presence of the Saxon monk
repelled him, nor was there in Edward's uneasy look much to allure him
on.

"But peace," continued the King, "be between thine and mine, as between
thee and me!"

"Amen," said the Duke, "and I leave thee at least free from the proud
rebels who so long disturbed thy reign. This House of Godwin, thou wilt
not again let it tower above thy palace?"

"Nay, the future is with God and his saints;" answered Edward, feebly.
"But Godwin is old--older than I, and bowed by many storms."

"Ay, his sons are more to be dreaded and kept aloof--mostly Harold!"

"Harold,--he was ever obedient, he alone of his kith; truly my soul
mourns for Harold," said the King, sighing.

"The serpent's egg hatches but the serpent. Keep thy heel on it," said
William, sternly.

"Thou speakest well," said the irresolute prince, who never seemed three
days or three minutes together in the same mind. "Harold is in
Ireland--there let him rest: better for all."

"For all," said the Duke; "so the saints keep thee, O royal saint!"

He kissed the King's hand, and strode away to the hall where Odo,
Fitzosborne, and the priest Lanfranc awaited him. And so that day,
halfway towards the fair town of Dover, rode Duke William, and by the
side of his roan barb ambled the priest's palfrey.

Behind came his gallant train, and with tumbrils and sumpter-mules laden
with baggage, and enriched by Edward's gifts; while Welch hawks, and
steeds of great price from the pastures of Surrey and the plains of
Cambridge and York, attested no less acceptably than zimme, and golden
chain, and embroidered robe, the munificence of the grateful King. [68]

As they journeyed on, and the fame of the Duke's coming was sent abroad
by the bodes or messengers, despatched to prepare the towns through which
he was to pass for an arrival sooner than expected, the more highborn
youths of England, especially those of the party counter to that of the
banished Godwin, came round the ways to gaze upon that famous chief, who,
from the age of fifteen, had wielded the most redoubtable sword of
Christendom. And those youths wore the Norman garb: and in the towns,
Norman counts held his stirrup to dismount, and Norman hosts spread the
fastidious board; and when, at the eve of the next day, William saw the
pennon of one of his