and back the message I shall send?"
The proud and punctilious Norman thrice crossed himself ere he answered:
"There was a time, Count William, when I should have deemed it honour to
hold parle with Harold the brave Earl; but now, with the crown on his
head, I hold it shame and disgrace to barter words with a knight unleal
and a man foresworn."
"Nathless, thou shalt do me this favour," said William, "for" (and he
took the knight somewhat aside) "I cannot disguise from thee that I look
anxiously on the chance of battle. Yon men are flushed with new triumph
over the greatest warrior Norway ever knew, they will fight on their own
soil, and under a chief whom I have studied and read with more care than
the Comments of Caesar, and in whom the guilt of perjury cannot blind me
to the wit of a great general. If we can yet get our end without battle,
large shall be my thanks to thee, and I will hold thine astrologer a man
wise, though unhappy."
"Certes," said De Graville gravely, "it were discourteous to the memory
of the star-seer, not to make some effort to prove his science a just
one. And the Chaldeans----"
"Plague seize the Chaldeans!" muttered the Duke. "Ride with me back to
the camp, that I may give thee my message, and instruct also the monk."
"De Graville," resumed the Duke, as they rode towards the lines, "my
meaning is briefly this. I do not think that Harold will accept my offer
and resign his crown, but I design to spread dismay, and perhaps revolt
amongst his captains; I wish that they may know that the Church lays its
Curse on those who fight against my consecrated banner. I do not ask
thee, therefore, to demean thy knighthood, by seeking to cajole the
usurper; no, but rather boldly to denounce his perjury and startle his
liegemen. Perchance they may compel him to terms--perchance they may
desert his banner; at the worst they shall be daunted with full sense of
the guilt of his cause."
"Ha, now I comprehend thee, noble Count; and trust me I will speak as
Norman and knight should speak."
Meanwhile, Harold seeing the utter hopelessness of all sudden assault,
had seized a general's advantage of the ground he had gained. Occupying
the line of hills, he began forthwith to entrench himself behind deep
ditches and artful palisades. It is impossible now to stand on that
spot, without recognising the military skill with which the Saxon had
taken his post, and formed his precautions. He surrounded t
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