YOUNG MEN AT THE MANOR

They were fishing, a few days later, in the bed of the brook that for

centuries had cut deep into the soft valley soil. The trees closing

overhead made long tunnels through which the sunshine worked in blobs

and patches. Down in the tunnels were bars of sand and gravel, old roots

and trunks covered with moss or painted red by the irony water;

foxgloves growing lean and pale towards the light; clumps of fern and

thirsty shy flowers who could not live away from moisture and shade. In

the pools you could see the wave thrown up by the trouts as they charged

hither and yon, and the pools were joined to each other--except in flood

time, when all was one brown rush--by sheets of thin broken water that

poured themselves chuckling round the darkness of the next bend.

This was one of the children's most secret hunting-grounds, and their

particular friend, old Hobden the hedger, had shown them how to use it.

Except for the click of a rod hitting a low willow, or a switch and

tussle among the young ash-leaves as a line hung up for the minute,

nobody in the hot pasture could have guessed what game was going on

among the trouts below the banks.

'We've got half-a-dozen,' said Dan, after a warm, wet hour. 'I vote we

go up to Stone Bay and try Long Pool.'

Una nodded--most of her talk was by nods--and they crept from the gloom

of the tunnels towards the tiny weir that turns the brook into the

mill-stream. Here the banks are low and bare, and the glare of the

afternoon sun on the Long Pool below the weir makes your eyes ache.

When they were in the open they nearly fell down with astonishment. A

huge grey horse, whose tail-hairs crinkled the glassy water, was

drinking in the pool, and the ripples about his muzzle flashed like

melted gold. On his back sat an old, white-haired man dressed in a loose

glimmery gown of chain-mail. He was bare-headed, and a nut-shaped iron

helmet hung at his saddle-bow. His reins were of red leather five or six

inches deep, scalloped at the edges, and his high padded saddle with its

red girths was held fore and aft by a red leather breastband and

crupper.

'Look!' said Una, as though Dan were not staring his very eyes out.

'It's like the picture in your room--"Sir Isumbras at the Ford".'

The rider turned towards them, and his thin, long face was just as sweet

and gentle as that of the knight who carries the children in that

picture.

'They should be here now, Sir Richard,' said Puck's deep voice among the

willow-herb.

'They are here,' the knight said, and he smiled at Dan with the string

of trouts in his hand. 'There seems no great change in boys since mine

fished this water.'

'If your horse has drunk, we shall be more at ease in the Ring,' said

Puck; and he nodded to the children as though he had never magicked away

their memories a week before.

The great horse turned and hoisted himself into the pasture with a kick

and a scramble that tore the clods down rattling.

'Your pardon!' said Sir Richard to Dan. 'When these lands were mine, I

never loved that mounted men should cross the brook except by the paved

ford. But my Swallow here was thirsty, and I wished to meet you.'

'We're very glad you've come, sir,' said Dan. 'It doesn't matter in the

least about the banks.'

He trotted across the pasture on the sword side of the mighty horse, and

it was a mighty iron-handled sword that swung from Sir Richard's belt.

Una walked behind with Puck. She remembered everything now.

'I'm sorry about the Leaves,' he said, 'but it would never have done if

you had gone home and told, would it?'

'I s'pose not,' Una answered. 'But you said that all the fair--People of

the Hills had left England.'

'So they have; but I told you that you should come and go and look and

know, didn't I? The knight isn't a fairy. He's Sir Richard Dalyngridge,

a very old friend of mine. He came over with William the Conqueror, and

he wants to see you particularly.'

'What for?' said Una.

'On account of your great wisdom and learning,' Puck replied, without a

twinkle.

'Us?' said Una. 'Why, I don't know my Nine Times--not to say it dodging,

and Dan makes the most _awful_ mess of fractions. He can't mean _us_!'

'Una!' Dan called back. 'Sir Richard says he is going to tell what

happened to Weland's sword. He's got it. Isn't it splendid?'

'Nay--nay,' said Sir Richard, dismounting as they reached the Ring, in

the bend of the mill-stream bank. 'It is you that must tell me, for I

hear the youngest child in our England today is as wise as our wisest

clerk.' He slipped the bit out of Swallow's mouth, dropped the ruby-red

reins over his head, and the wise horse moved off to graze.

Sir Richard (they noticed he limped a little) unslung his great sword.

'That's it,' Dan whispered to Una.

'This is the sword that Brother Hugh had from Wayland-Smith,' Sir

Richard said. 'Once he gave it me, but I would not take it; but at the

last it became mine after such a fight as never christened man fought.

See!' He half drew it from its sheath and turned it before them. On

either side just below the handle, where the Runic letters shivered as

though they were alive, were two deep gouges in the dull, deadly steel.

'Now, what Thing made those?' said he. 'I know not, but you, perhaps,

can say.'

'Tell them all the tale, Sir Richard,' said Puck. 'It concerns their

land somewhat.'

'Yes, from the very beginning,' Una pleaded, for the knight's good face

and the smile on it more than ever reminded her of 'Sir Isumbras at the

Ford'.

They settled down to listen, Sir Richard bare-headed to the sunshine,

dandling the sword in both hands, while the grey horse cropped outside

the Ring, and the helmet on the saddle-bow clinged softly each time he

jerked his head.

'From the beginning, then,' Sir Richard said, 'since it concerns your

land, I will tell the tale. When our Duke came out of Normandy to take

his England, great knights (have ye heard?) came and strove hard to

serve the Duke, because he promised them lands here, and small knights

followed the great ones. My folk in Normandy were poor; but a great

knight, Engerrard of the Eagle--Engenulf De Aquila--who was kin to my

father, followed the Earl of Mortain, who followed William the Duke, and

I followed De Aquila. Yes, with thirty men-at-arms out of my father's

house and a new sword, I set out to conquer England three days after I

was made knight. I did not then know that England would conquer me. We

went up to Santlache with the rest--a very great host of us.'

'Does that mean the Battle of Hastings--Ten Sixty-Six?' Una whispered,

and Puck nodded, so as not to interrupt.

'At Santlache, over the hill yonder'--he pointed south-eastward towards

Fairlight--'we found Harold's men. We fought. At the day's end they ran.

My men went with De Aquila's to chase and plunder, and in that chase

Engerrard of the Eagle was slain, and his son Gilbert took his banner

and his men forward. This I did not know till after, for Swallow here

was cut in the flank, so I stayed to wash the wound at a brook by a

thorn. There a single Saxon cried out to me in French, and we fought

together. I should have known his voice, but we fought together. For a

long time neither had any advantage, till by pure ill-fortune his foot

slipped and his sword flew from his hand. Now I had but newly been made

knight, and wished, above all, to be courteous and fameworthy, so I

forbore to strike and bade him get his sword again. "A plague on my

sword," said he. "It has lost me my first fight. You have spared my

life. Take my sword." He held it out to me, but as I stretched my hand

the sword groaned like a stricken man, and I leaped back crying,

"Sorcery!"'

[The children looked at the sword as though it might speak again.]

'Suddenly a clump of Saxons ran out upon me and, seeing a Norman alone,

would have killed me, but my Saxon cried out that I was his prisoner,

and beat them off. Thus, see you, he saved my life. He put me on my

horse and led me through the woods ten long miles to this valley.'

'To here, d'you mean?' said Una.

'To this very valley. We came in by the Lower Ford under the King's Hill

yonder'--he pointed eastward where the valley widens.

'And was that Saxon Hugh the novice?' Dan asked.

'Yes, and more than that. He had been for three years at the monastery

at Bec by Rouen, where'--Sir Richard chuckled--'the Abbot Herluin would

not suffer me to remain.'

'Why wouldn't he?' said Dan.

'Because I rode my horse into the refectory, when the scholars were at

meat, to show the Saxon boys we Normans were not afraid of an Abbot. It

was that very Saxon Hugh tempted me to do it, and we had not met since

that day. I thought I knew his voice even inside my helmet, and, for all

that our Lords fought, we each rejoiced we had not slain the other. He

walked by my side, and he told me how a Heathen God, as he believed, had

given him his sword, but he said he had never heard it sing before. I

remember I warned him to beware of sorcery and quick enchantments.' Sir

Richard smiled to himself. 'I was very young--very young!

'When we came to his house here we had almost forgotten that we had been

at blows. It was near midnight, and the Great Hall was full of men and

women waiting news. There I first saw his sister, the Lady Ælueva, of

whom he had spoken to us in France. She cried out fiercely at me, and

would have had me hanged in that hour, but her brother said that I had

spared his life--he said not how he saved mine from the Saxons--and that

our Duke had won the day; and even while they wrangled over my poor

body, of a sudden he fell down in a swoon from his wounds.

'"This is _thy_ fault," said the Lady Ælueva to me, and she kneeled

above him and called for wine and cloths.

'"If I had known," I answered, "he should have ridden and I walked. But

he set me on my horse; he made no complaint; he walked beside me and

spoke merrily throughout. I pray I have done him no harm."

'"Thou hast need to pray," she said, catching up her underlip. "If he

dies, thou shalt hang."

'They bore off Hugh to his chamber; but three tall men of the house

bound me and set me under the beam of the Great Hall with a rope round

my neck. The end of the rope they flung over the beam, and they sat them

down by the fire to wait word whether Hugh lived or died. They cracked

nuts with their knife-hilts the while.'

'And how did you feel?' said Dan.

'Very weary; but I did heartily pray for my schoolmate Hugh his health.

About noon I heard horses in the valley, and the three men loosed my

ropes and fled out, and De Aquila's men rode up. Gilbert de Aquila came

with them, for it was his boast that, like his father, he forgot no man

that served him. He was little, like his father, but terrible, with a

nose like an eagle's nose and yellow eyes like an eagle. He rode tall

warhorses--roans, which he bred himself--and he could never abide to be

helped into the saddle. He saw the rope hanging from the beam and

laughed, and his men laughed, for I was too stiff to rise.

'"This is poor entertainment for a Norman knight," he said, "but, such

as it is, let us be grateful. Show me, boy, to whom thou owest most, and

we will pay them out of hand."'

'What did he mean? To kill 'em?' said Dan.

'Assuredly. But I looked at the Lady Ælueva where she stood among her

maids, and her brother beside her. De Aquila's men had driven them all

into the Great Hall.'

'Was she pretty?' said Una.

'In all my long life I have never seen woman fit to strew rushes before

my Lady Ælueva,' the knight replied, quite simply and quietly. 'As I

looked at her I thought I might save her and her house by a jest.

'"Seeing that I came somewhat hastily and without warning," said I to De

Aquila, "I have no fault to find with the courtesy that these Saxons

have shown me." But my voice shook. It is--it was not good to jest with

that little man.

'All were silent awhile, till De Aquila laughed. "Look, men--a miracle,"

said he. "The fight is scarce sped, my father is not yet buried, and

here we find our youngest knight already set down in his Manor, while

his Saxons--ye can see it in their fat faces--have paid him homage and

service! By the Saints," he said, rubbing his nose, "I never thought

England would be so easy won! Surely I can do no less than give the lad

what he has taken. This Manor shall be thine, boy," he said, "till I

come again, or till thou art slain. Now, mount, men, and ride. We follow

our Duke into Kent to make him King of England."

'He drew me with him to the door while they brought his horse--a lean

roan, taller than my Swallow here, but not so well girthed.

'"Hark to me," he said, fretting with his great war-gloves. "I have

given thee this Manor, which is a Saxon hornets' nest, and I think thou

wilt be slain in a month--as my father was slain. Yet if thou canst keep

the roof on the hall, the thatch on the barn, and the plough in the

furrow till I come back, thou shalt hold the Manor from me; for the Duke

has promised our Earl Mortain all the lands by Pevensey, and Mortain

will give me of them what he would have given my father. God knows if

thou or I shall live till England is won; but remember, boy, that here

and now fighting is foolishness and"--he reached for the reins--"craft

and cunning is all."

'"Alas, I have no cunning," said I.

'"Not yet," said he, hopping abroad, foot in stirrup, and poking his

horse in the belly with his toe. "Not yet, but I think thou hast a good

teacher. Farewell! Hold the Manor and live. Lose the Manor and hang," he

said, and spurred out, his shield-straps squeaking behind him.

'So, children, here was I, little more than a boy, and Santlache fight

not two days old, left alone with my thirty men-at-arms, in a land I

knew not, among a people whose tongue I could not speak, to hold down

the land which I had taken from them.'

'And that was here at home?' said Una.

'Yes, here. See! From the Upper Ford, Weland's Ford, to the Lower Ford,

by the Belle Allée, west and east it ran half a league. From the Beacon

of Brunanburgh behind us here, south and north it ran a full league--and

all the woods were full of broken men from Santlache, Saxon thieves,

Norman plunderers, robbers, and deer-stealers. A hornets' nest indeed!

'When De Aquila had gone, Hugh would have thanked me for saving their

lives; but the Lady Ælueva said that I had done it only for the sake of

receiving the Manor.

'"How could I know that De Aquila would give it me?" I said. "If I had

told him I had spent my night in your halter he would have burned the

place twice over by now."

'"If any man had put _my_ neck in a rope," she said, "I would have seen

his house burned thrice over before _I_ would have made terms."

'"But it was a woman," I said; and I laughed, and she wept and said that

I mocked her in her captivity.

'"Lady," said I, "there is no captive in this valley except one, and he

is not a Saxon."

'At this she cried that I was a Norman thief, who came with false, sweet

words, having intended from the first to turn her out in the fields to

beg her bread. Into the fields! She had never seen the face of war!

'I was angry, and answered, "This much at least I can disprove, for I

swear"--and on my sword-hilt I swore it in that place--"I swear I will

never set foot in the Great Hall till the Lady Ælueva herself shall

summon me there."

'She went away, saying nothing, and I walked out, and Hugh limped after

me, whistling dolorously (that is a custom of the English), and we came

upon the three Saxons that had bound me. They were now bound by my

men-at-arms, and behind them stood some fifty stark and sullen churls of

the House and the Manor, waiting to see what should fall. We heard De

Aquila's trumpets blow thin through the woods Kentward.

'"Shall we hang these?" said my men.

'"Then my churls will fight," said Hugh, beneath his breath; but I bade

him ask the three what mercy they hoped for.

'"None," said they all. "She bade us hang thee if our master died. And

we would have hanged thee. There is no more to it."

'As I stood doubting, a woman ran down from the oak wood above the

King's Hill yonder, and cried out that some Normans were driving off the

swine there.

'"Norman or Saxon," said I, "we must beat them back, or they will rob us

every day. Out at them with any arms ye have!" So I loosed those three

carles and we ran together, my men-at-arms and the Saxons with bills and

axes which they had hidden in the thatch of their huts, and Hugh led

them. Half-way up the King's Hill we found a false fellow from

Picardy--a sutler that sold wine in the Duke's camp--with a dead

knight's shield on his arm, a stolen horse under him, and some ten or

twelve wastrels at his tail, all cutting and slashing at the pigs. We

beat them off, and saved our pork. One hundred and seventy pigs we saved

in that great battle.' Sir Richard laughed.

'That, then, was our first work together, and I bade Hugh tell his folk

that so would I deal with any man, knight or churl, Norman or Saxon, who

stole as much as one egg from our valley. Said he to me, riding home:

"Thou hast gone far to conquer England this evening." I answered:

"England must be thine and mine, then. Help me, Hugh, to deal aright

with these people. Make them to know that if they slay me De Aquila will

surely send to slay them, and he will put a worse man in my place."

"That may well be true," said he, and gave me his hand. "Better the

devil we know than the devil we know not, till we can pack you Normans

home." And so, too, said his Saxons; and they laughed as we drove the

pigs downhill. But I think some of them, even then, began not to hate

me.'

'I like Brother Hugh,' said Una, softly.

'Beyond question he was the most perfect, courteous, valiant, tender,

and wise knight that ever drew breath,' said Sir Richard, caressing the

sword. 'He hung up his sword--this sword--on the wall of the Great Hall,

because he said it was fairly mine, and never he took it down till De

Aquila returned, as I shall presently show. For three months his men and

mine guarded the valley, till all robbers and nightwalkers learned there

was nothing to get from us save hard tack and a hanging. Side by side we

fought against all who came--thrice a week sometimes we fought--against

thieves and landless knights looking for good manors. Then we were in

some peace, and I made shift by Hugh's help to govern the valley--for

all this valley of yours was my Manor--as a knight should. I kept the

roof on the hall and the thatch on the barn, but ... the English are a

bold people. His Saxons would laugh and jest with Hugh, and Hugh with

them, and--this was marvellous to me--if even the meanest of them said

that such and such a thing was the Custom of the Manor, then straightway

would Hugh and such old men of the Manor as might be near forsake

everything else to debate the matter--I have seen them stop the Mill

with the corn half ground--and if the custom or usage were proven to be

as it was said, why, that was the end of it, even though it were flat

against Hugh, his wish and command. Wonderful!'

'Aye,' said Puck, breaking in for the first time. 'The Custom of Old

England was here before your Norman knights came, and it outlasted them,

though they fought against it cruel.'

'Not I,' said Sir Richard. 'I let the Saxons go their stubborn way, but

when my own men-at-arms, Normans not six months in England, stood up and

told me what was the custom of the country, then I was angry. Ah, good

days! Ah, wonderful people! And I loved them all.'

The knight lifted his arms as though he would hug the whole dear valley,

and Swallow, hearing the chink of his chain-mail, looked up and whinnied

softly.

'At last,' he went on, 'after a year of striving and contriving and some

little driving, De Aquila came to the valley, alone and without warning.

I saw him first at the Lower Ford, with a swineherd's brat on his

saddle-bow.

'"There is no need for thee to give any account of thy stewardship,"

said he. "I have it all from the child here." And he told me how the

young thing had stopped his tall horse at the Ford, by waving of a

branch, and crying that the way was barred. "And if one bold, bare babe

be enough to guard the Ford in these days, thou hast done well," said

he, and puffed and wiped his head.

'He pinched the child's cheek, and looked at our cattle in the flat by

the river.

'"Both fat," said he, rubbing his nose. "This is craft and cunning such

as I love. What did I tell thee when I rode away, boy?"

'"Hold the Manor or hang," said I. I had never forgotten it.

'"True. And thou hast held." He clambered from his saddle and with his

sword's point cut out a turf from the bank and gave it me where I

kneeled.'

Dan looked at Una, and Una looked at Dan.

'That's seizin,' said Puck, in a whisper.

'"Now thou art lawfully seized of the Manor, Sir Richard," said he--'twas

the first time he ever called me that--"thou and thy heirs for ever. This

must serve till the King's clerks write out thy title on a parchment.

England is all ours--if we can hold it."

'"What service shall I pay?" I asked, and I remember I was proud beyond

words.

'"Knight's fee, boy, knight's fee!" said he, hopping round his horse on

one foot. (Have I said he was little, and could not endure to be helped

to his saddle?) "Six mounted men or twelve archers thou shalt send me

whenever I call for them, and--where got you that corn?" said he, for it

was near harvest, and our corn stood well. "I have never seen such

bright straw. Send me three bags of the same seed yearly, and

furthermore, in memory of our last meeting--with the rope round thy

neck--entertain me and my men for two days of each year in the Great

Hall of thy Manor."

'"Alas!" said I, "then my Manor is already forfeit. I am under vow not

to enter the Great Hall." And I told him what I had sworn to the Lady

Ælueva.'

'And hadn't you ever been into the house since?' said Una.

'Never,' Sir Richard answered, smiling. 'I had made me a little hut of

wood up the hill, and there I did justice and slept ... De Aquila

wheeled aside, and his shield shook on his back. "No matter, boy," said

he. "I will remit the homage for a year."'

'He meant Sir Richard needn't give him dinner there the first year,'

Puck explained.

'De Aquila stayed with me in the hut, and Hugh, who could read and write

and cast accounts, showed him the Roll of the Manor, in which were

written all the names of our fields and men, and he asked a thousand

questions touching the land, the timber, the grazing, the mill, and the

fish-ponds, and the worth of every man in the valley. But never he named

the Lady Ælueva's name, nor went he near the Great Hall. By night he

drank with us in the hut. Yes, he sat on the straw like an eagle ruffled

in her feathers, his yellow eyes rolling above the cup, and he pounced

in his talk like an eagle, swooping from one thing to another, but

always binding fast. Yes; he would lie still awhile, and then rustle in

the straw, and speak sometimes as though he were King William himself,

and anon he would speak in parables and tales, and if at once we saw not

his meaning he would yerk us in the ribs with his scabbarded sword.

'"Look you, boys," said he, "I am born out of my due time. Five hundred

years ago I would have made all England such an England as neither Dane,

Saxon, nor Norman should have conquered. Five hundred years hence I

should have been such a counsellor to Kings as the world hath never

dreamed of. 'Tis all here," said he, tapping his big head, "but it hath

no play in this black age. Now Hugh here is a better man than thou art,

Richard." He had made his voice harsh and croaking, like a raven's.

'"Truth," said I. "But for Hugh, his help and patience and

long-suffering, I could never have kept the Manor."

'"Nor thy life either," said De Aquila. "Hugh has saved thee not once,

but a hundred times. Be still, Hugh!" he said. "Dost thou know, Richard,

why Hugh slept, and why he still sleeps, among thy Norman men-at-arms?"

'"To be near me," said I, for I thought this was truth.

'"Fool!" said De Aquila. "It is because his Saxons have begged him to

rise against thee, and to sweep every Norman out of the valley. No

matter how I know. It is truth. Therefore Hugh hath made himself an

hostage for thy life, well knowing that if any harm befell thee from his

Saxons thy Normans would slay him without remedy. And this his Saxons

know. Is it true, Hugh?"

'"In some sort," said Hugh shamefacedly; "at least, it was true half a

year ago. My Saxons would not harm Richard now. I think they know

him--but I judged it best to make sure."

'Look, children, what that man had done--and I had never guessed it!

Night after night had he lain down among my men-at-arms, knowing that if

one Saxon had lifted knife against me, his life would have answered for

mine.

'"Yes," said De Aquila. "And he is a swordless man." He pointed to

Hugh's belt, for Hugh had put away his sword--did I tell you?--the day

after it flew from his hand at Santlache. He carried only the short

knife and the long-bow. "Swordless and landless art thou, Hugh; and they

call thee kin to Earl Godwin." (Hugh was indeed of Godwin's blood.) "The

Manor that was thine is given to this boy and to his children for ever.

Sit up and beg, for he can turn thee out like a dog, Hugh."

'Hugh said nothing, but I heard his teeth grind, and I bade De Aquila,

my own overlord, hold his peace, or I would stuff his words down his

throat. Then De Aquila laughed till the tears ran down his face.

'"I warned the King," said he, "what would come of giving England to us

Norman thieves. Here art thou, Richard, less than two days confirmed in

thy Manor, and already thou hast risen against thy overlord. What shall

we do to him, _Sir_ Hugh?"

'"I am a swordless man," said Hugh. "Do not jest with me," and he laid

his head on his knees and groaned.

'"The greater fool thou," said De Aquila, and all his voice changed;

"for I have given thee the Manor of Dallington up the hill this

half-hour since," and he yerked at Hugh with his scabbard across the

straw.

'"To me?" said Hugh. "I am a Saxon, and, except that I love Richard

here, I have not sworn fealty to any Norman."

'"In God's good time, which because of my sins I shall not live to see,

there will be neither Saxon nor Norman in England," said De Aquila. "If

I know men, thou art more faithful unsworn than a score of Normans I

could name. Take Dallington, and join Sir Richard to fight me tomorrow,

if it please thee!"

'"Nay," said Hugh. "I am no child. Where I take a gift, there I render

service"; and he put his hands between De Aquila's, and swore to be

faithful, and, as I remember, I kissed him, and De Aquila kissed us

both.

'We sat afterwards outside the hut while the sun rose, and De Aquila

marked our churls going to their work in the fields, and talked of holy

things, and how we should govern our Manors in time to come, and of

hunting and of horse-breeding, and of the King's wisdom and unwisdom;

for he spoke to us as though we were in all sorts now his brothers. Anon

a churl stole up to me--he was one of the three I had not hanged a year

ago--and he bellowed--which is the Saxon for whispering--that the Lady

Ælueva would speak to me at the Great House. She walked abroad daily in

the Manor, and it was her custom to send me word whither she went, that

I might set an archer or two behind and in front to guard her. Very

often I myself lay up in the woods and watched on her also.

'I went swiftly, and as I passed the great door it opened from within,

and there stood my Lady Ælueva, and she said to me: "Sir Richard, will

it please you enter your Great Hall?" Then she wept, but we were alone.'

The knight was silent for a long time, his face turned across the

valley, smiling.

'Oh, well done!' said Una, and clapped her hands very softly. 'She was

sorry, and she said so.'

'Aye, she was sorry, and she said so,' said Sir Richard, coming back

with a little start. 'Very soon--but _he_ said it was two full hours

later--De Aquila rode to the door, with his shield new scoured (Hugh had

cleansed it), and demanded entertainment, and called me a false knight,

that would starve his overlord to death. Then Hugh cried out that no man

should work in the valley that day, and our Saxons blew horns, and set

about feasting and drinking, and running of races, and dancing and

singing; and De Aquila climbed upon a horse-block and spoke to them in

what he swore was good Saxon, but no man understood it. At night we

feasted in the Great Hall, and when the harpers and the singers were

gone we four sat late at the high table. As I remember, it was a warm

night with a full moon, and De Aquila bade Hugh take down his sword from

the wall again, for the honour of the Manor of Dallington, and Hugh took

it gladly enough. Dust lay on the hilt, for I saw him blow it off.

'She and I sat talking a little apart, and at first we thought the

harpers had come back, for the Great Hall was filled with a rushing

noise of music. De Aquila leaped up; but there was only the moonlight

fretty on the floor.

'"Hearken!" said Hugh. "It is my sword," and as he belted it on the

music ceased.

'"Over Gods, forbid that I should ever belt blade like that," said De

Aquila. "What does it foretell?"

'"The Gods that made it may know. Last time it spoke was at Hastings,

when I lost all my lands. Belike it sings now that I have new lands and

am a man again," said Hugh.

'He loosed the blade a little and drove it back happily into the sheath,

and the sword answered him low and crooningly, as--as a woman would

speak to a man, her head on his shoulder.

'Now that was the second time in all my life I heard this Sword

sing.'...

'Look!' said Una. 'There's Mother coming down the Long Slip. What will

she say to Sir Richard? She can't help seeing him.'

'And Puck can't magic us this time,' said Dan.

'Are you sure?' said Puck; and he leaned forward and whispered to Sir

Richard, who, smiling, bowed his head.

'But what befell the sword and my brother Hugh I will tell on another

time,' said he, rising. 'Ohé, Swallow!'

The great horse cantered up from the far end of the meadow, close to

Mother.

They heard Mother say: 'Children, Gleason's old horse has broken into

the meadow again. Where did he get through?'

'Just below Stone Bay,' said Dan. 'He tore down simple flobs of the

bank! We noticed it just now. And we've caught no end of fish. We've

been at it all the afternoon.'

And they honestly believed that they had. They never noticed the Oak,

Ash and Thorn leaves that Puck had slyly thrown into their laps.

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