horse's head
from the scene.

But scarce had they gained the centre of the wood, than there rose, as
from the heart of the armament, a swell of solemn voices. For the night
had now come to the third watch [260], in which, according to the belief
of the age, angel and fiend were alike astir, and that church-division of
time was marked and hallowed by a monastic hymn.

Inexpressibly grave, solemn, and mournful came the strain through the
drooping boughs, and the heavy darkness of the air; and it continued to
thrill in the ears of the riders till they had passed the wood, and the
cheerful watchfires from their own heights broke upon them to guide their
way. They rode rapidly, but still in silence, past their sentries; and,
ascending the slopes, where the force lay thick, how different were the
sounds that smote them! Round the large fires the men grouped in great
circles, with the ale-horns and flagons passing merrily from hand to
hand; shouts of drink-hael and was-hael, bursts of gay laughter, snatches
of old songs, old as the days of Athelstan,--varying, where the
Anglo-Danes lay, into the far more animated and kindling poetry of the
Pirate North,--still spoke of the heathen time when War was a joy, and
Valhalla was the heaven.

"By my faith," said Leofwine brightening; "these are sounds and sights
that do a man's heart good, after those doleful ditties, and the long
faces of the shavelings. I vow by St. Alban, that I felt my veins
curdling into ice-bolts, when that dirge came through the woodholt.
Hollo, Sexwolf, my tall man, lift us up that full horn of thine, and keep
thyself within the pins, Master Wassailer; we must have steady feet and
cool heads to-morrow."

Sexwolf, who, with a band of Harold's veterans, was at full carousal,
started up at the young Earl's greetings, and looked lovingly into his
smiling face as he reached him the horn.

"Heed what my brother bids thee, Sexwolf," said Harold severely; "the
hands that draw shafts against us to-morrow will not tremble with the
night's wassail."

"Nor ours either, my lord the King," said Sexwolf, boldly; "our heads can
bear both drink and blows,--and--(sinking his voice into a whisper) the
rumour runs that the odds are so against us, that I would not, for all
thy fair brother's earldoms, have our men other than blithe tonight."

Harold answered not, but moved on, and coming then within full sight of
the bold Saxons of Kent, the unmixed sons of the Saxon s