s, placed to the right and left of the Duke's
pavilion, there came a sweet tinkling sound, as of deep silver bells. At
that note there was an evident and universal commotion throughout the
armament. The roar of the hammers ceased; and from every green hut and
every grey tent, swarmed the host. Now, rows of living men lined the
camp-streets, leaving still a free, though narrow passage in the midst.
And, by the blaze of more than a thousand torches, the Saxons saw
processions of priests, in their robes and aubes, with censer and rood,
coming down the various avenues. As the priests paused, the warriors
knelt; and there was a low murmur as if of confession, and the sign of
lifted hands, as if in absolution and blessing. Suddenly, from the
outskirts of the camp, and full in sight, emerged, from one of the cross
lanes, Odo of Bayeux himself, in his white surplice, and the cross in his
right hand. Yea, even to the meanest and lowliest soldiers of the
armament, whether taken from honest craft and peaceful calling, or the
outpourings of Europe's sinks and sewers, catamarans from the Alps, and
cut-throats from the Rhine,--yea, even among the vilest and the meanest,
came the anointed brother of the great Duke, the haughtiest prelate in
Christendom, whose heart even then was fixed on the Pontiff's
throne--there he came, to absolve, and to shrive, and to bless. And the
red watchfires streamed on his proud face and spotless robes, as the
Children of Wrath knelt around the Delegate of Peace.

Harold's hand clenched firm on the arm of Gurth, and his old scorn of the
monk broke forth in his bitter smile and his muttered words. But Gurth's
face was sad and awed.

And now, as the huts and the canvas thus gave up the living, they could
indeed behold the enormous disparity of numbers with which it was their
doom to contend, and, over those numbers, that dread intensity of zeal,
that sublimity of fanaticism, which from one end of that war-town to the
other, consecrated injustice, gave the heroism of the martyr to ambition,
and blended the whisper of lusting avarice with the self-applauses of the
saint!

Not a word said the four Saxons. But as the priestly procession glided
to the farther quarters of the armament, as the soldiers in their
neighbourhood disappeared within their lodgments, and the torches moved
from them to the more distant vistas of the camp, like lines of
retreating stars, Gurth heaved a heavy sigh, and turned his