awoke the long line of thanes slumbering in wild caves and dark
ways of his soul, and with a mighty drive of his fist he struck the
man-at-arms between the eyes, so that he fell like a stone. With
savage curses the knave's comrades rushed in against the monk, but
Rheinfrid caught up the Norman's sword, and with his grip on the hilt
of it his old skill in war-craft came back to him, and he carried
himself like a thane of the old Sea-wolves, and the joy of battle
danced in his eyes.

Ill was it then for those marauders. One of them he clove through the
iron cap; the neck of another he severed with a sweep of the bitter
blade.

And now that he was fighting he remembered his calling, and with a
clear voice he chanted the great psalm of the man who has sinned:
"Miserere mei Deus--Have mercy on me, O God, according to Thy
loving-kindness; according unto the multitude of Thy tender mercies
blot out my transgressions."

The strength of ten was in his body, and verse by verse he laid the
Normans low, till of the troop no more than two were left. These were
falling back before him as he pressed onward chanting his Miserere,
when a body of horsemen rode up and drew rein to watch the issue.

"By the Splendour of God!" cried the leader, as he glanced at the woman
and scanned the number of the dead tumbled across the road, "it is a
_Man_!"

Rheinfrid looked up at the new comer, and saw a gigantic, ruddy-faced
man of forty, clad in chain mail and wearing a circlet of gold about
his massive head. At once he felt sure that he was face to face with
the Master of England. Still he kept his sword's point raised for
another attack, and with a quiet frankness met the Conqueror's
imperious gaze.

"Ha, monk! hast thou no fear of me?" cried William, frowning.

"Lord King, hast thou no fear of God?" Rheinfrid retorted.

For a moment the King's haughty eyes blazed with wrath, but William
ever loved a strong man and dauntless, and he laughed gaily: "Nay, thou
hast slain enough for one day; let us cry truce, and tell me of what
house thou comest."

So Rheinfrid spoke to the King about Eovesholme, and the Abbot, and the
harbouring of the miserable fugitives, and told the tale of his own
fighting that day. And the great Norman was well pleased, and
afterwards he gave Agelwyn the custody of Winchcombe Abbey when the
abbot of that house fell under his displeasure. As for Rheinfrid he
took the woman and her babe into the town; and man