as it was, that had sufficed to bring William in view of the
enemy, had sufficed also, under the orders of his generals, to give to
the wide plain of his encampment all the order of a host prepared. And
William, having now mounted on a rising ground, turned from the spears on
the hill tops, to his own fast forming lines on the plain, and said with
a stern smile:

"Methinks the Saxon usurper, if he be among those on the height of yon
hills, will vouchsafe us time to breathe! St. Michael gives his crown to
our hands, and his corpse to the crow, if he dare to descend."

And so indeed, as the Duke with a soldier's eye foresaw from a soldier's
skill, so it proved. The spears rested on the summits. It soon became
evident that the English general perceived that here there was no
Hardrada to surprise; that the news brought to his ear had exaggerated
neither the numbers, nor the arms, nor the discipline of the Norman; and
that the battle was not to the bold but to the wary.

"He doth right," said William, musingly; "nor think, O my Quens, that we
shall find a fool's hot brain under Harold's helmet of iron. How is this
broken ground of hillock and valley named in our chart? It is strange
that we should have overlooked its strength, and suffered it thus to fall
into the hands of the foe. How is it named? Can any of ye remember?"

"A Saxon peasant," said De Graville, "told me that the ground was called
Senlac [256] or Sanglac, or some such name, in their musicless jargon."

"Grammercy!" quoth Grantmesnil, "methinks the name will be familiar eno'
hereafter; no jargon seemeth the sound to my ear--a significant name and
ominous,--Sanglac, Sanguelac--the Lake of Blood."

"Sanguelac!" said the Duke, startled; "where have I heard that name
before? it must have been between sleeping and waking.--Sanguelac,
Sanguelac!--truly sayest thou, through a lake of blood we must wade
indeed!"

"Yet," said De Graville, "thine astrologer foretold that thou wouldst win
the realm without a battle."

"Poor astrologer!" said William, "the ship he sailed in was lost. Ass
indeed is he who pretends to warn others, nor sees an inch before his
eyes what his own fate will be! Battle shall we have, but not yet. Hark
thee, Guillaume, thou hast been guest with this usurper; thou hast seemed
to me to have some love for him--a love natural since thou didst once
fight by his side; wilt thou go from me to the Saxon host with Hugues
Maigrot, the monk,