er give me back this Normandy which thou owest me, or I will make war
upon thee with all my forces." "At this message," say the chronicles,
"William was at first somewhat dismayed; but a Breton lord, who had sworn
fidelity to the two counts, and bore messages from one to the other,
rubbed poison upon the inside of Conan's hunting-horn, of his horse's
reins, and of his gloves. Conan, having unwittingly put on his gloves
and handled the reins of his horse, lifted his hands to his face, and the
touch having filled him with poisonous infection, he died soon after, to
the great sorrow of his people, for he was an able and brave man, and
inclined to justice. And he who had betrayed him quitted before long the
army of Conan, and informed Duke William of his death."

Conan is not the only one of William's foes whom he was suspected of
making away with by poison: there are no proofs; but contemporary
assertions are positive, and the public of the time believed them,
without surprise. Being as unscrupulous about means as ambitious and
bold in aim, William was not of those whose character repels such an
accusation. What, however, diminishes the suspicion is that, after and
in spite of Conan's death, several Breton knights, and, amongst others,
two sons of Count Eudes, his uncle, attended at the trysting-place of the
Norman troops and took part in the expedition.

Dives was the place of assemblage appointed for fleet and army. William
repaired thither about the end of August, 1066. But for several weeks
contrary winds prevented him from putting to sea; some vessels which made
the attempt perished in the tempest; and some of the volunteer
adventurers got disgusted, and deserted. William maintained strict
discipline amongst this multitude, forbidding plunder so strictly that
"the cattle fed in the fields in full security." The soldiers grew tired
of waiting in idleness and often in sickness. "Yon is a mad-man," said
they, "who is minded to possess himself of another's land; God is against
the design, and so refuses us a wind."

About the 20th of September the weather changed. The fleet got ready,
but could only go and anchor at St. Valery at the mouth of the Somme.
There it was necessary to wait several more days; impatience and
disquietude were redoubled; "and there appeared in the heavens a star
with a tail, a certain sign of great things to come." William had the
shrine of St. Valery brought out and paraded about, bei