wegians, all drawn up in battle array;
and he thought of his brother, somewhere among their ranks; and he
wondered whether it was too late to try to make peace.

He rode out from his army until he was half-way between the two forces;
and then he shouted, 'Is Tostig the son of Godwin here?'

Tostig rode forward and said, 'Behold, Tostig is here!'

Then Harold cried, 'Harold of England offers Tostig peace and one-third
of the kingdom of England that he may rule over it; for he would not
that brother should fight against brother.'

'Last winter,' answered Tostig, 'my brother had nought for me but words
of scorn and high disdain; but now I am glad that he speaks both kindly
and fairly. But what will my brother King Harold of England give to
King Harold of Norway for his trouble in coming here?'

'Seven feet of English ground,' replied Harold; 'or perhaps a foot
over, seeing he is taller than most other men.'

'Go thy way!' shouted the Earl; 'Tostig will not desert his friends and
go over to his foes. He and his friends will die on this spot like
men, or will win England with their arms.'

Riding back to his army, Tostig was met by King Harold Hardrada.

'Who is that man who spake with thee?' asked the King of Norway.

Tostig replied, 'That is my brother Harold, the son of Godwin, and King
of the English.'

'He is but a little man,' said Hardrada; 'but he sits well in his
stirrups.'

Then the battle began.

Both sides fought well, but the English pressed the Northmen hard, and
drove them backward until they came to the river Derwent. Then they
pressed them harder than ever; and the Northmen might have been forced
into the river and drowned but for the bravery of one of their number,
who kept the bridge with uplifted sword while the other soldiers passed
over. At last an Englishman got under the bridge, and thrust upward
with his spear through the planks; and wounded the brave Northman so
that he died.

After this the Northmen fell into confusion. Hardrada and Tostig were
both slain; and the remnant of their army fled in a panic to their
ships.

The English marched towards York, where the king gave a great feast in
honour of the victory.

The guests were seated round the board, drinking healths and singing,
and Harold was thinking sorrowfully of the brother who had fallen, a
traitor to his country, when of a sudden there was a loud knocking at
the door.

'What is that?' inquired the startled guests.