, rose to propose the drink-hael, which
carries the most characteristic of our modern social customs to an
antiquity so remote, and the roar was hushed at the sight of the young
Earl's winsome face. With due decorum, he uncovered his head [252],
composed his countenance, and began:

"Craving forgiveness of my lord the King, and this noble assembly," said
Leofwine, "in which are so many from whom what I intend to propose would
come with better grace, I would remind you that William, Count of the
Normans, meditates a pleasure excursion, of the same nature as our late
visitor, Harold Hardrada's."

A scornful laugh ran through the hall.

"And as we English are hospitable folk, and give any man, who asks, meat
and board for one night, so one day's welcome, methinks, will be all that
the Count of the Normans will need at our English hands."

Flushed with the joyous insolence of wine, the wassailers roared
applause.

"Wherefore, this drink-hael to William of Rouen! And, to borrow a saying
now in every man's lips, and which, I think, our good scops will take
care that our children's children shall learn by heart,--since he covets
our Saxon soil, 'seven feet of land' in frank pledge to him for ever!"

"Drink-hael to William the Norman!" shouted the revellers; and each man,
with mocking formality, took off his cap, kissed his hand, and bowed
[253]. "Drink-hael to William the Norman!" and the shout rolled from
floor to roof--when, in the midst of the uproar, a man all bedabbled with
dust and mire, rushed into the hall, rushed through the rows of the
banqueters, rushed to the throne-chair of Harold, and cried aloud,
"William the Norman is encamped on the shores of Sussex; and with the
mightiest armament ever yet seen in England, is ravaging the land far and
near!"

BOOK XII.
THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS

CHAPTER I.

In the heart of the forest land in which Hilda's abode was situated, a

gloomy pool reflected upon its stagnant waters the still shadows of the
autumnal foliage. As is common in ancient forests in the neighbourhood
of men's wants, the trees were dwarfed in height by repeated loppings,
and the boughs sprang from the hollow, gnarled boles of pollard oaks and
beeches; the trunks, vast in girth, and covered with mosses and whitening
canker-stains, or wreaths of ivy, spoke of the most remote antiquity: but
the boughs which their lingering and mutilated life put forth, were
either thin and feeble