"When matters are settled here, travel to the various courts of Europe and acquaint yourself with the ways of peoples who are far more advanced than we in civilization, and you may come to stand some day among the most trusted councillors of the king, and as one of the best leaders of his troops. I see that the success you have attained while as yet so young has not puffed you up in any way. Always remember, Wulf, that though success may be envied, those who are successful may yet be liked if only they themselves do not seem conscious of success. I should say you had best not make a long stay at court, but betake you, shortly, to your estate. It is a good school, and one who can rule his own people wisely has a sound preparation for posts of larger responsibility. You will always find in the prior of Bramber a wise adviser, who will direct your studies, and will aid you where your Latinity falls short.

"It will be time enough in another five years for you to go abroad; but, of course, I do not wish you to remain all that time away from court. It is never good to be forgotten; therefore, come up two or three times a year. I trust that there will be no fresh wars or troubles to hinder your studies or interfere with your life; but remember that there is always danger from Normandy, therefore always keep on foot your force of housecarls; and if, as I think, your estates can afford it, add to their number, so that if trouble does come you will be able to again play a prominent part in it."

Wulf's contingent marched with the rest of the troops from the east as far as Reading, and there struck off by the nearest road to Steyning. He and Beorn accompanied Harold to London, and after staying there for a short time, and taking part in the fetes with which the conquest of the Welsh was celebrated, Wulf returned to Steyning and took up the life he had previously led there. Before starting he asked Harold's advice as to whether he should fortify Steyning after the manner of the Norman castles.

"By no means, Wulf. Such castles are useful only against quarrelsome neighbours. Wars are decided by great battles, and if these are lost a castle does but bring ruin upon its possessor, for it must sooner or later be taken. The man who, when a cause is lost, returns quietly to his home and goes about his usual work may escape unnoticed, while one who shuts himself up in a castle is certain to suffer at last from the vengeance of the conquerors. Resistance maintained in forests and swamps, as was done by the Bretons and Welsh, may weary out a foe, but a conqueror can wish for nothing better than that the defeated may assemble themselves in towns and castles, where he can slowly, perhaps, but surely destroy them piecemeal."

The time passed quickly and pleasantly at Steyning. Wulf studied hard for three or four hours a day, looked after his tenants, hunted and hawked, doubled the number of his company of housecarls, and often rode over to the priory of an evening. He now took his place naturally among the thanes in that part of the country, the reputation he had gained in the two wars giving him a standing among them, to which, from his youth, he would not otherwise have been entitled. In accordance with Harold's advice he went three times during the year up to court, where he generally met Beorn, who spent the greater part of his time there.

"How you can like all this formality and ceremony is more than I can imagine, Beorn."

"I don't care either for the formality or the ceremony, but I like the amusement and the gaiety, and should ask with much more reason how can you like to spend your time studying parchments and reading the doings of those old Romans, when you might be enjoying yourself here. The matter is altogether beyond me."

"I like it for itself, and I like it because it may some day be of great service to me."

"You see you are ambitious, Wulf, and I am not. I don't want to be a great commander or a state-councillor, and if I did want it ever so much I know I should never be one or the other. I am content to be a thane, as my father was before me, and seek no greater change than that of a stay for a month at court. That brightens one up more than anything; and one cannot be all one's life hunting in the woods and seeing after the tenants. By the way, I had a quarrel the other day with your old Norman enemy, Fitz-Urse. Your name was mentioned, and he chose to sneer offensively. I told him that you had done more already than he would ever do if he lived to be an old man. We came to high words, and next day met in the forest and there settled it. He ran me through the arm, and I slashed his cheek. As quarrelling is strictly forbidden he made some excuse and went over to France, while I went down home till my arm was well again. I fancy we hurt each other about equally, but the scar on my arm won't show, while I fancy, from what the leech who dressed his wound told me, the sear is likely to spoil his beauty for life."

"I am sorry you quarrelled with him about me, Beorn. It would have been better to have said nothing, though I thank you for your championship."

"Nonsense, Wulf. I know very well you would not hear anyone speak ill of me without taking up the cudgels for me."

Wulf could not deny this. "Certainly not, Beorn; still it is a pity to make an enemy, and Fitz-Urse has shown in my case that he is not one who forgives."

The Welsh campaign had terminated at the end of August, and it was a month later that Wulf had returned to Steyning. Just a year afterwards he received a message from Harold to come up to London, and to order his housecarls to hold themselves in readiness to start immediately on receiving an order from him. Somewhat surprised, for no news had reached him of any trouble that could call for the employment of an armed force, Wulf rode for London alone, bidding Osgod follow with the housecarls as soon as he heard from him. When he reached the palace he heard news that explained the cause of his summons. Northumbria had risen in rebellion against Earl Tostig. He was accused of tyranny and oppression, and had been continually away from his earldom, leaving it to be governed in his absence by a thane.

The country north of the Humber had for a long period of years been independent, appointing their own rulers, who owed no allegiance whatever to the kings of the West Saxons. Although now incorporated in the kingdom of England the Northumbrians regretted their lost independence, and this all the more, that the population were for the most part Danish, and viewed with an intense feeling of jealousy the preponderance gained by the West Saxons. Tostig at the time the revolt declared itself was hunting with the king—who had a great affection for him—in the forests of Wiltshire, and had not arrived in town when Wulf reached the capital. It was not until the afternoon that Wulf had an interview with Harold. The earl had just come from a council and was alone.

"Thank you for coming up so speedily," he said as he shook the young thane by the hand. "You have heard the news, I suppose?"

"I have heard that Northumberland has risen in rebellion."

"Yes, that was the news that arrived four days since."

"Is it serious?"

"Yes, very serious; the rebellion grows each day. It is headed by several of the greatest landowners in the north, both Danish and Saxon, and the worst part of the news is that the trouble has, as I hear, been stirred up by Edwin of Mercia and his brother. It is the old rivalry between the House of Leofric and ours. They are jealous of our influence with the king, and would gladly rend England into two kingdoms again. We hear to-day that the Northumbrian nobles have summoned a Gemot to meet, which amounts in fact to a rebellion, not only against Tostig but against the king."

"If Mercia joins Northumbria it would be a more serious business than that in Wales."

"I think not that it will be so," Harold said. "Edwin has been always conspiring. He stirred up the Welsh, he has encouraged the Norwegians, he has intrigued in Northumbria. He and his brother have ever been a source of trouble, and yet he has never openly rebelled; he sets others to do the fighting for him, prepared if they are successful to reap the fruits of their victory. There is, of course, still hope that moderate councils may prevail, but I fear that the Northumbrians will consider that they have gone too far to turn back. At present, at any rate, no steps will be taken. As long as no armed forces are set in motion there are hopes that matters may be arranged, but the approach of an army would set all Northumbria on fire. The Gemot is summoned to meet this day week—that is on the third of October—and we shall wait to hear what steps they take. Messengers have already been sent to a large number of thanes to be prepared for service. I would that all kept a force of housecarls as you do. I am going down to-night to my house near Hampton. Do you come down with me, Wulf. Edith will be glad to see you."

Wulf had in the days of his pageship several times accompanied Harold to Hampton, and knew well the lady, who was known to the Saxons as Edith of the Swan-neck. She was by birth far inferior in position to Harold. The relation between them was similar to that known throughout the middle ages as left-hand marriages. These were marriages contracted between men of high rank and ladies of inferior position, and while they lasted were regarded as being lawful; but they could be, and frequently were, broken off, when for politic or other reasons the prince or noble had to seek another alliance. The lady was of great beauty and talent, and exercised a large influence over Harold. This was always employed for good, and she was much beloved by the Saxons.

The alliance had been formed while Harold was quite a young man, and he and Edith were fondly attached to each other. His rise, however, to the position of the foremost man in England, and the prospect of his accession to the throne, rendered it probable that ere long he would be obliged to marry one who would strengthen his position, and would from her high birth be fitted to share the crown with him. William of Normandy was perfectly well aware of the relation in which Edith stood to Harold, and had not regarded her as any obstacle to the earl's marriage with his daughter; and even Harold himself had not attempted to give it as a reason for declining the offer of the hand of the Norman princess.

As they rode down to Hampton the earl said, "I dare say you are somewhat surprised at my leaving the court at this crisis, Wulf, but in truth I want to keep my hands free. Tostig, you know, is rash and impetuous. I love him well, but am not blind to his faults; and I fear that the people of Northumbria have some just cause for complaint against him. He is constantly away from his earldom. He was absent for months when he went to Rome, and he spends a great part of his time either at the court here or with the king at his hunting-lodges. The Northumbrians are a proud people, and it is small wonder that they object to be governed by an absent earl. Tostig is furious at what he terms the insolence of the Northumbrians, and I would fain avoid all questions of dispute with him. It is not improbable that the king and his councillors may be called upon to hear the complaints of the Northumbrians, and to decide between them and Tostig. This will be bitter enough for my brother. He may return at any moment, and I greatly wish to avoid all argument with him before the matter is discussed in council."

The house at Hampton was a large one, and here Edith lived in considerable state. Grooms ran up and took the horses as Harold and Wulf dismounted. Six retainers in jerkins embroidered with the earl's cognizance appeared at the doors. As they entered the house, Edith came out from an inner room and fondly embraced Harold.

"Who is this you have with you, Harold?"

"What, have you forgotten Wulf of Steyning, who has, as I told you, turned out a great fighter, and was the captor of the castle of Porthwyn, and of its owner, Llewellyn ap Rhys?"

"I did not know you again, Wulf," Edith said holding out her hand to him, "but now that I hear who you are I recognize you. Why, it is four years since I saw you, and you were then a mischievous little page. Harold has often spoken to me about you, and your adventures in Normandy and Wales. I did not expect to see you, Harold," she went on turning to the earl, "after what you told me in the letter you sent me yesterday, about the troubles in the north. I feared that you would be kept at court."

"Tostig and the king are still away," he said, "and he will return so furious at this revolt against his authority, that, thinking as I do that he is in no small degree at fault—for I have frequently remonstrated with him at spending so large a portion of his time away from his earldom,—I thought it best to get away."

"It is strange how Tostig differs from the rest of you," Edith said. "You and Leofwyn, and Gurth are all gentle and courteous, while Tostig is fierce and impetuous."

"Tostig has his faults," Harold said; "but we love each other dearly, and from the time we were boys together we have never had a dispute. It will be hard indeed upon me if I am called upon to side against him. We have learnt, Edith, that Edwin and Morcar have been intriguing with the Northumbrians. These Mercian earls are ever bringing troubles upon the country, and I fear they will give even greater trouble in the future. If they stir up disturbances, as they have done, against the king, who is king by the will of the people, and also by right of birth, what will it be when—" and he stopped.

"When you shall mount the throne, my Harold," Edith said proudly. "Oh, that this feud between Leofric's house and Godwin's were at an end. It bodes ill for England."

"It is natural," Harold said gently. "It is as gall and wormwood to the earls of Mercia to see the ascendancy of the West Saxons, and still more would it be so were I, Godwin's son, without a drop of royal blood in my veins, to come to be their king."

"The feud must be closed," Edith said firmly, though Wulf noticed that her face paled. "I have told you so before, Harold, and there is but one way."

"It shall never be closed in that way, Edith; rather would I lie in my grave."

"You have not to think of yourself, Harold, still less of me. It is of England you have to think—this England that will assuredly choose you as its king, and who will have a right to expect that you will make any or every sacrifice for its sake"

"Any but that," Harold said.

She smiled faintly and shook her head. Wulf did not understand the conversation, but there was a look of earnest resolve in her face that deeply impressed him. He had moved a short distance away, and now turned and looked out of the window, while they exchanged a few more words, having been, as he saw, altogether oblivious of his presence in the earnestness with which they both spoke.

For a week Harold remained at Hampton. Wulf saw that he was much troubled in his mind, and concluded that the messengers who came and went every day were the bearers of bad tidings. It was seldom that he was away from the side of Edith. When they were together she was always bright, but once or twice when Wulf found her alone her features bore an expression of deep sadness.

"We must ride for London, Wulf," Harold said one morning after reading a letter brought by a royal messenger. "The king has laid his orders on me to proceed at once to town, and indeed the news is well-nigh as bad as can be. The Gemot has voted the deposition of Tostig, has even had the insolence to declare him an outlaw, and has elected Morcar in his place. It has also issued decrees declaring all partisans of Tostig outlaws, and confiscating their estates. Two of Tostig's Danish housecarls were slain on the first day of their meeting. Two hundred of Tostig's personal followers have since been massacred; his treasury has been broken open, and all its contents carried off. The election of Morcar shows but too plainly the designs of the earls of Mercia. They wish to divide England into two portions, and to reign supreme north of the Wellan. This will give them full half of England, and would assuredly, even did we not oppose them now, lead to a terrible war. The more terrible as William of Normandy will be watching from across the channel, ready to take instant advantage of our dissensions. God avert a war like this. Every sacrifice must be made rather than that the men of the north and south of England should fly at each other's throats."

The earl scarcely spoke a word during the ride to London, but rode absorbed in his thoughts with a sad and anxious countenance.

Day after day the news became more serious. Morcar accepted the earldom of Northumbria, hurried to York, and placing himself at the head of the Northumbrian forces, marched south, being joined on the way by the men of Lincoln, Nottingham, and Derby, in all of which shires the Danish element was very strong. At Northampton, which had formed part of the government of Tostig, Morcar was joined by his brother Edwin at the head of the forces of Mercia, together with a large body of Welsh. They found the people of Northampton less favourable to their cause than they had expected, and in revenge harried the whole country, killing and burning, and carrying off the cattle as booty and the men as slaves.

Harold bore the brunt of the trouble alone, for, regardless of the fact that half the kingdom was in a flame, King Edward and Tostig continued their hunting expeditions in Wiltshire, in spite of the urgent messages sent by Harold entreating them to return. In the meantime, still hoping that peace might in some way be preserved, Harold sent messages to all the thanes of importance in Wessex, ordering them to prepare to march to London with the whole of their retainers and levies, as soon as they received orders to get in motion. But while he still tarried in Wiltshire the king acceded to Harold's request that he might be empowered to go to Northampton to treat in Edward's name with the rebels.

As soon as he received this permission Harold hastened to Northampton, accompanied by only half a dozen of his thanes, among whom was Wulf. He was received with respect by the rebels, but when their leaders assembled, and in the king's name he called upon them to lay down their arms, to cease from ravaging, and to lay any complaints they might have to make against Tostig before the king or the National Gemot, he met with a flat refusal. They would not listen to any proposition that involved the possibility of the return of Tostig, and boldly said that if the king wished to retain Northumbria as part of his realm he must confirm the sentence of their Gemot upon Tostig, and must recognize their election of Morcar to the earldom.

In all this Harold perceived clearly enough that, although it was the Northumbrian leaders who were speaking, they were acting entirely under the influence of Edwin and Morcar. All that he could obtain was that some of the northern thanes should accompany him to lay their demands before the king himself. Edward, upon hearing, by a swift messenger sent by Harold, of the failure of his attempt to induce the Northumbrians to lay down their arms, reluctantly abandoned the pleasures of the chase, and proceeded to Bretford, near Salisbury, where there was a royal house, and summoned a Witenagemot. As, however, the occasion was urgent, it was attended only by the king's chief councillors, and by the thanes of that part of Wessex.

Between Tostig and Harold the quarrel that the latter had feared had already broken out. Harold was anxious above all things for peace, and although the blow to his own interests and to those of his family, by the transfer of Northumbria from his brother to one of the Mercian earls, was a most serious one, he preferred that even this should take place to embarking in a war that would involve the whole of England. Tostig was so furious at finding that Harold was not willing to push matters to the last extremity in his favour, that he accused him of being the secret instigator of the Northumbrian revolt. The absurdity of such an accusation was evident. It was as much to Harold's interest as to that of Tostig that the great northern earldom should remain in the hands of his family; but an angry man does not reason, and Tostig's fury was roused to the highest point by the outspoken utterances of many of the members of the Witenagemot. These boldly accused him of cruelty and avarice, and declared that many of his acts of severity were caused by his determination, under a show of justice, to possess himself of the wealth of those he condemned. Tostig then rose and declared before the assembly that the whole rising was the work of Harold.

The latter simply denied the charge on oath, and his word was accepted as sufficient. The Witan then turned to the question as to how the revolt was to be dealt with. The king was vehemently in favour of putting it down by force of arms. Tostig was of all the Saxons his favourite friend, and he considered the insult offered to him as dealt against himself. So determined was he, that he sent out orders for the whole of the forces of Wessex to march and join the royal standard. In vain Harold and Edward's wisest councillors endeavoured to dissuade him from a step that would deluge the country in blood, and might lead to terrible disaster. In vain they pointed out that while all the thanes would willingly put their forces at his disposal to resist a foreign foe, or even to repel an invasion from the north, they would not risk life and fortune in an endeavour to force a governor upon a people who hated him, and, as most thought, with good reason.

The king was immovable; but Harold and his councillors took steps quietly to inform the thanes that the Witan was opposed to the order, and that for the present no harm would be done by disregarding the royal mandate. The king, in his anger and mortification at finding himself unable to march against the rebels with an overwhelming force, fell ill, and the control of affairs passed into Harold's hands; and the king, whose fits of passion, though extreme while they lasted, were but short-lived gave him full power to deal with the matter as he thought best.

Harold had done all that he could for Tostig when he went to Northampton, but had failed. There was no alternative now between a great war, followed probably by a complete split of the kingdom, or acquiescence in the demands of the men of the North. He did not hesitate, but in the name of the king confirmed the decisions arrived at by the Gemot of York—recognized Morcar as Earl of Northumbria, and granted a complete amnesty for all offences committed during the rising, on condition only that a general Witenagemot should be held at Oxford. At this meeting Northern and Southern England were again solemnly reconciled, as they had been forty-seven years before at an assembly held at the same place.



CHAPTER XIII.

HAROLD, THE KING.

The day before the great Witenagemot was to assemble, Wulf, as he came out from the house where Harold had taken up his abode, was approached by a man, who by his attire appeared to be a retainer of a thane; his face seemed familiar to him, as he placed a letter in his hand. Wulf was now very much in the confidence of Harold. It was a relief to the earl in the midst of his trials and heavy responsibilities to open his mind freely to one of whose faith and loyalty he was well assured, and he therefore was far more communicative to the young thane than to the older councillors by whom he was surrounded. Wulf opened the letter. It contained only the words: "I am here; the bearer of this will lead you to me. Edith."

Looking more closely at the man he recognized him at once as one of the servitors at Hampton, though his dress bore no signs of any cognizance. Greatly surprised to hear of Edith's presence in Oxford unknown to Harold, he at once followed the servant, who conducted him to a house on the outskirts of the town. Wulf was ushered into a room, and the servant then left him. A moment later Edith entered.

"My message must have surprised you, Wulf," she said, as he knelt on one knee to kiss the hand she held out to him.

"It did indeed, lady, for it was but yesterday that the earl received a letter from you written at Hampton. He said to me as he opened it, 'Would I were in peace at Hampton, free from all these troubles and intrigues.'"

"I have come down in a horse-litter," she said, "and save the two retainers who accompanied me none knew of my intentions. I know, Wulf, that you have the confidence of the earl and that you love him and would do your best for him."

"I would lay down my life for him, lady. Even did I not love and honour him as I do, I would die for him, for he is the hope of England, and he alone can guide the country through its troubles, both from within and without. The life of a single man is as nought in the scale."

"Nor the happiness of a single woman," she added. "Now, Wulf, I want to know from you exactly how matters stand here. My lord, when he writes to me always does so cheerfully, ever making the best of things; but it is most important that I should know his real mind. It is for that that I have travelled here. This Witenagemot that assembles to-morrow—what will come of it?"

"The earl thinks it will doubtless pass the resolution reconciling the North and South, and declaring that there shall be oblivion for the past, and that all things shall go back to their former footing save as to the change of earls."

"It is easy to vote that," she said quietly; "but will it be held to? It depends not upon Northumbrians nor Saxons, but upon Edwin and Morcar. They have made a great step forward towards their end; they have united under their government the northern half of England, and have wrested Northumbria from Godwin's family. After making this great step, will they rest and abstain from taking the next? Northumbria and Mercia united are as strong as Wessex and East Anglia. Will they be content to remain under a West Saxon king? Above all, will they submit to the rule of one of Godwin's sons? I feel sure that they will not. What thinks the earl?"

"He thinks as you do, lady, although he considers that for the time the danger is averted. He himself said to me yesterday, 'If these Mercian earls are ready to defy the head of the royal line of England, think you that they will ever recognize the sway of a member of my father's house?'"

"And what said you, Wulf?"

"I said that I did not doubt the ill-will of the Mercian earls, but that I doubted whether Mercia would follow them if they strove to break up the kingdom. 'Mercia is following them now,' he said; 'and has with Northumbria stood in arms for some weeks past. There has ever been jealousy of the supremacy of the West Saxons since the days when the kingdom was united in one. These brothers will intrigue as their father did before them. They will bring down the Welsh from their hills to aid them, for though these people will not for generations try their strength alone against us, they would gladly take advantage of it should such an opportunity for revenge occur. Even now, when the blood is scarce dry on their hearthstones, there is a large force of them under Edwin's banner.'"

"It is a grievous look-out for England," Edith said. "It would seem that nothing can bring about peace and unity save the end of this terrible feud between the families of Godwin and Leofric."

"That would indeed be a blessing for the country," Wulf agreed; "but of all things that seems to me most hopeless."

"They must be reconciled!" Edith said, rising from her seat. "What is a woman's love or a woman's life that they should stand in the way of the peace of England? See you not, Wulf, there is but one way in which the feud can be healed? Were it not for me Harold could marry the sister of these earls, and if she were Queen of England the feud would be at an end. A daughter of the house of Leofric, and a son of the house of Godwin, would command the support of Mercia and Wessex alike, and as brothers of the queen, Edwin and Morcar might well be content to be friends with her husband and his brothers. I only stand in the way of this. I have already urged this upon Harold, but he will not hear of it. Until now the Mercian brothers might be a trouble, but they were not strong enough to be a danger to the kingdom. Now that they hold half of it in their hands this marriage has become a necessity. I must stand aside. What is my happiness and my life that I should be an obstacle alike to my lord's glory and the peace of England? Go to Harold; tell him that I am here, and pray that he will come to me. Give your message to him briefly; say naught of what I have said to you, though his heart will tell him at once what has brought me here."

Silent, and confounded by the immensity of the sacrifice she proposed, for he knew how deep and tender was her love for Harold, Wulf knelt on both knees and reverently placed her hand to his lips, and then without a word left the house, half blinded with tears, signing to the servant, who was waiting without, to follow him. When he reached Harold's house he found that the earl was with his brother Gurth and several of his councillors. He did not hesitate, however, but entering the room, said, "My Lord Harold, I pray to have speech of you for a minute upon an affair of urgent importance."

Somewhat surprised the earl followed him out.

"What is it, Wulf?" he asked as they entered Harold's private closet. "You look pale and strange, lad."

"I have a message to give you, my lord. The Lady Edith is here, and prays that you will go to her at once."

The earl started as if struck with a blow. "Edith here!" he exclaimed, and then with a troubled face he took several short turns up and down the room.

"Where is she?" he said at last in a low voice.

"Her servant is without, my lord, and will conduct you to her."

"Tell Gurth and the others I am called away for an hour on urgent business," he said. "Say nothing of Edith being here." Then he went out.

The man who was waiting doffed his hat, and at once led the way to the house where Edith was staying. She moved swiftly towards him as he entered the room and fell on his neck. Not a word was spoken for a minute or two, then he said:

"Why have you come, Edith? But I need not ask, I know. I will not have it, I will not have it! I have told you so before. Why is our happiness to be sacrificed? I have given my work and my life to England, but I will not give my happiness too, nor will I sacrifice yours."

"You would not be worthy of the trust England reposes in you, Harold," she said quietly, "were you not ready to give all. As to my happiness, it is at an end, for I should deem myself as a guilty wretch, as the cause of countless woes to Englishmen, did I remain as I am. I have been happy, dear, most happy, many long years. To my last day it will be a joy and a pride, that nothing can take away, that I have been loved by the greatest of Englishmen, and my sacrifice will seem light to me under the feeling that it has purchased the happiness of England."

"But is my happiness to go for nothing?" Harold exclaimed passionately.

"You too, Harold, will have the knowledge that you have sacrificed yourself, that as you have often risked your life, so have you for England's sake given up your love. I have seen that it must be so for years. As Earl of Wessex I might always have stood by your side, but as soon as I saw that the people of England looked to you as their future monarch, I knew that I could not share your throne. A king's heart is not his own, as is that of a private man. As he must lead his people in battle, and if needs be give his life for them, so must he give his hand where it will most advantage them."

"I cannot do it," Harold said. "I will not sacrifice you even for England. I will remain Earl of Wessex, and Edwin may reign as king if he so chooses."

"That cannot be, Harold. If the people of England call you to the throne, it is your duty to accept the summons. You know that none other could guide them as you can, for already for years you have been their ruler. They love you, they trust in you, and it were a shame indeed if the love we bear each other should stand in the way of what is above all things needful for the good of England. You know well enough that when the national council meets to choose a king the South will declare for you. But if Edwin and Morcar influence Mercia and the North to declare for another, what remains but a breaking up of the kingdom, with perhaps a great war?"

"I cannot do it, and I will not," Harold said, stopping in his walk and standing before her. "My life, my work, all save you I will give up for England—but you I will not."

Edith turned even paler than before. "You will not give me up, Harold, but you cannot hold me. I can bear my life in seclusion and retirement, and can even be happy in the thought of our past love, of your greatness, and in the peace of England, which, I should have the consolation of knowing, was due to the sacrifice that we had both made, but I could not live happy, even with your love and your companionship, knowing that I have brought woes upon England. Nor will I live so. Death will break the knot if you will not do so, and I could die with a smile on my lips, knowing that I was dying for your good and England's. If you will not break the bond death shall do so, and ere to-morrow's sun rises, either by your sacrifice or by my own hand, you will be free. Marry for the good of England. Here is the ring by which you pledged your troth to me," and she took it from her finger and dropped it in the fire that blazed on the hearth. "There is the end of it, but not the end of our love. I shall think of you, and pray for you always, Harold. Oh, my dear lord and master, do not make it too hard for me!" and she threw herself on his neck in a passion of tears. For two or three minutes they stood locked in each other's close embrace, then she withdrew herself from his arms.

"Farewell," she said. "You have left my side many a time for battle, and we parted bravely though we knew we might never meet again. Let us part so now. We have each our battles to fight, but God will comfort us both, for our sacrifice will have brought peace to England. Farewell, my dear lord, farewell!" She touched his hand lightly and then tottered from the room, falling senseless as soon as she had closed the door behind her.

Harold sank into a chair and covered his face with his hands, while his breast heaved with short sobs. So he sat for some time; then he stood up.

"She is stronger and braver than I," he murmured; "but she is right. Only by this sacrifice can England be saved, but even so I could not have made it; but I know her so well that I feel she would carry out her threat without hesitation." Then he went out of the house, but instead of returning to the town took his way to the lonely path by the river, and there for hours paced up and down. At last his mind was made up, the sacrifice must be accepted. As she had said, their happiness must not stand in the way of that of all England. He walked with a firm step back to Oxford, and went straight to the house where Edwin and Morcar had taken up their quarters.

"Tell Earl Edwin that Harold would speak with him," he said to the retainer at the door. The man returned in a minute, and led the way to the room where Edwin and his brother were standing awaiting him. They had had several interviews since they arrived at Oxford, and supposed that he had come to arrange some detail as to the assembly on the following day.

"Edwin," Harold said abruptly, "methinks that for the good of our country it would be well that our houses should be united. Why should the sons of Leofric and Godwin regard each other as rivals? We are earls of the English people, and we cannot deny that the unfriendly feeling between us has brought trouble on the country. Why should there not be an end of this?"

Greatly surprised at this frank address, Edwin and Morcar both hastened to say that for their part they had no quarrel whatever with any of the house of Godwin, save with Tostig.

"Tostig will soon be beyond the sea, and will no longer be a source of trouble. There is, it seems to me, but one way by which we can unite and bind our interests into one. I have come to you to ask for the hand of your sister Ealdgyth in marriage."

The two earls looked at each other in surprise. The proposition was altogether unexpected, but they at once saw its advantages. They knew as well as others that the choice of the nation at Edward's death was likely to fall upon Harold, and it would add both to their dignity and security that they should be brothers-in-law of the king. Such an alliance would do away with the danger, that once seated on the throne Harold might become reconciled with Tostig, and endeavour to replace him in the earldom of Northumbria. This danger would be dissipated by the marriage.

"You would perhaps like to consult together before giving an answer," Harold said courteously.

"By no means," Edwin said warmly. "Such an alliance is, as you say, in all respects to be desired. Ealdgyth could wish for no nobler husband. We should rejoice in obtaining such a spouse for her, and the union would assuredly unite our families, do away with the unfriendly feeling of which you spoke, and be of vast advantage to the realm in general. We need no word of consultation, but accept your offer, and will with pleasure give Ealdgyth in marriage to you. But is there not an obstacle?"

"The obstacle is at an end," Harold said gravely. "Of her own free will and wish, and in order that there should be peace and union in England, the Lady Edith has broken the tie that bound us."

The brothers, seeing that the subject was a painful one, wisely said no more, but turned the conversation to the meeting on the following day, and assured Harold that they hoped the decision would now be unanimous, and then after a short time skilfully brought it round again to the subject of the marriage. By nightfall the news was known throughout the city, and was received with universal joy. The union seemed to all men a guarantee for peace in England. The two great rival houses would now be bound by common interests, and the feud that had several times been near breaking out into civil war was extinguished.

The moment he returned to his house Harold called Wulf.

"Wulf, go at once to the Lady Edith. Tell her that though it has taken all the brightness out of my life, and has made all my future dark, I have done her bidding, and have sacrificed myself for England. Tell her that I will write to her to-night, and send the letter to Hampton, where, I trust, it will find her."

Wulf at once carried the message. He found Edith sitting with eyes swollen with weeping, and yet with a calm and composed expression on her face.

"I knew that my lord would do as I prayed him," she said; "he has ever thought first of England and then of himself. Tell him that I start in an hour for Hampton, and shall there stay till I get his letter; there I will answer it. Tell him I thank him from my heart, and that, much as I loved and honoured him before, I shall to the end of my life love and honour him yet more for having thus sacrificed himself for England. Tell him that you found me calm and confident that he would grant my prayer, and that with all my heart I wish him happiness."

Her lips quivered and her voice broke, and Wulf hurried away without saying another word, for he felt that he himself was at the point of bursting into tears. Harold was anxiously awaiting his return, and after listening to the message turned abruptly and entered his private closet, with a wave of the hand signifying that Wulf would not be further required.

The next day the Witenagemot met. It was solemnly decreed that all old scores should be wiped out; that Northern and Southern England were again to be reconciled, as they had been forty-seven years before in an assembly held by Canute in Oxford. It was decreed unanimously that the laws of Canute should be renewed, and should have force in all parts of the kingdom.

Until this decision was arrived at by the assembly Tostig had remained with the king, but he now went into exile, and crossed the sea to Flanders, where he had at an earlier period of his life, when Godwin's whole family were in disgrace, taken refuge. He was accompanied by his wife and many personal adherents. He left filled with rage and bitterness, especially against Harold, who ought, he considered, to have supported him to the utmost, and who should have been ready to put the whole forces of Wessex in the field to replace him in the earldom.

By the time that Harold returned to London Edith had left his abode at Hampton. He would have gladly handed it over to her and maintained it as before, but she would not hear of this, though she had accepted from him an income which would enable her to live comfortably in seclusion.

"I only do this," she said in her letter to him, "because I know that it would grieve you if I refused; but I entreat you, Harold, make no inquiries whither I have gone. I do not say that we can never meet again, but years must pass over before we do so. You must not think of me as always grieving. I have done what I am sure is right, and this will give me comfort, and enable me to bear your absence; but you know that, even if I never see you again, you will dwell in my heart as long as I live, its sole lord and master. I have so many happy memories to look back upon that I should be sorely to blame did I repine, and although I may not share the throne that will ere long be yours, nor the love which Englishmen will give their king, I shall be none the less proud of you, and shall be sure that there will be always in your heart a kind thought of me. Forbear, I pray you earnestly, to cause any search to be made for me. Doubtless you might discover me if you chose, but it would only renew my pain. In time we may be able to meet calmly and affectionately, as two old friends, but till then it were best that we stood altogether apart."

Harold put down the letter with a sigh. But he had little time to lament over private troubles. The king was ill; he had not rallied from the state of prostration that succeeded his outburst of passion when he found himself powerless to put down the Northern insurrection by force, and to restore his favourite Tostig to his earldom. Day succeeded day, but he did not rally. In vain the monks most famous for their skill in medicine came from Canterbury and Glastonbury; in vain prayers were offered up in all the cathedrals, and especially in his own Abbey of Westminster, and soon the report spread among the people that Edward, the king, was sick unto death, and all felt that it was a misfortune for England.

Edward was in no sense of the word a great king. He was a monk rather than a monarch. The greatest object of his life had been to rear an abbey that in point of magnificence should rival the stateliest fane in England. To that his chief care was devoted, and for many years he was well content to leave the care of government to Harold. But after the monarchs who had immediately preceded him, his merits, if of a passive kind, were warmly appreciated by his subjects. His rule had been free from oppression, and he had always desired that justice should be done to all. In the earlier part of his reign he was Norman in tongue, in heart, and in education; but in the latter years of his life he had become far more English in his leanings, and there can be no doubt that he bitterly regretted the promise he had rashly given to William of Normandy that he should succeed him.

It was not only because the people respected and even loved the king that they were grieved to hear that his days were numbered, but because they saw that his death would bring trouble on the land. With him the line of the Oethelings would become extinct, save for the boy Edgar and his sisters. The boy had been born beyond the sea, and was as much a foreigner as Edward himself had been, and Edward's partiality for the Normans in the early years of his reign had so angered the English that Edgar's claims would on this account alone have been dismissed. Moreover, boys' hands were unfit to hold the sceptre of England in such troubled times. It was to Harold that all eyes turned. He had for years exercised at least joint authority with Edward; he was the foremost and most noble of Englishmen. He was skilled in war, and wise in counsel, and the charm of his manner, the strength and stateliness of his figure, and the singular beauty of his face rendered him the popular idol. And yet men felt that it was a new departure in English life and customs for one who had in his veins no drop of royal blood to be chosen as king. His sister was Edward's wife, he was Edward's friend and counsellor, but although the men of the South felt that he was in all ways fitted to be king, they saw too that Northumbria would assuredly stand aloof, and that the Mercian earls, brothers-in-law as they were to be to Harold, would yet feel jealous that one of their own rank was to be their sovereign.

The Witan, as the representative of the nation, had alone the right of choosing the sovereign; but though they had often passed over those who by birth stood nearest to the throne, they had never yet chosen one altogether outside the royal family. It was a necessary step—for young Edgar was not to be thought of—and yet men felt uneasy, now that the time had come, at so complete a departure from custom.

Rapidly the king grew worse, and prayers were uttered up for him in every church in England. The Christmas Witan met at Westminster, but little was done. The great minster was consecrated on December 18th, and the absence of its founder and builder was keenly missed at the ceremony.

The members of the Witan remained in attendance near the palace, hoping for some guidance from the dying king. He had no power to leave the throne to whom he wished, and yet his words could not but have great weight; but he lay almost unconscious, and for two days remained speechless. But on the 5th of January, the year being 1066, he suddenly awoke from sleep, in the full possession of his senses. Harold was standing on one side of his bed, Archbishop Stigand at the other. His wife sat at the foot of the bed, chaffing her husband's feet; Robert Wymarc, his personal attendant, stood by his head. The king on awakening prayed aloud, that if a vision he had had was truly from heaven he might have strength to declare it; if it were but the offspring of a disordered brain he prayed that he might not be able to tell it.

Then he sat up in bed, supported by Robert; some of his chosen friends were called in, and to them, with a strangely clear voice and with much energy, he told the vision. It was that some monks he had known in his youth had appeared to him, and told him that God had sent them to tell him that on account of the sins of the earls, the bishops, and the men in holy orders of every rank, God had put a curse upon England, and that within a year and a day of his death fiends should stalk through the whole land, and should harry it from one end to another with fire and sword.

The king's words filled his hearers with awe, Stigand alone deeming the story but the dream of a dying man. Then Edward gave orders as to his burial. He bade his friends not to grieve for him, but to rejoice in his approaching deliverance, and he asked for the prayers of all his people for his soul. At last those standing round called his mind to the great subject which was for the moment first in the heart of every Englishman. Who, when he was gone, they asked, would he wish to wear the royal crown of England? The king stretched out his hand to Harold and said, "To thee, Harold, my brother, I commit my kingdom." Then, after commending his wife and his Norman favourites to Harold's care and protection, he turned his thoughts from all earthly matters, received the last rites of the church, and soon afterwards passed away tranquilly.

Rapidly the news spread through London that the king was dead. The members of the Witan were still there, for the assembly had not separated, but knowing that the king was dying had waited for the event. The earls and great thanes of the South and West, of East Anglia and Wessex, were all there together, probably with many from Mercia. There was no time lost. In the afternoon they assembled. All knew on whom the choice would fall, for Harold had been for long regarded as the only possible successor to the throne, and the news that the dying king had, as far as he could, chosen him as his successor, doubtless went for much in the minds of many who had hitherto felt that it was a strange and unknown thing to accept as monarch of England one who was not a member of the royal house. There was no hesitation, no debate. By acclamation Harold was chosen king of the land, and two great nobles were selected to inform him that the choice of the Witan had fallen upon him.

They bore with them the two symbols of royalty, the crown and the axe, and bade him accept them as being chosen both by the voice of the Witan and by the king, whom he had so well and faithfully served. There was no hesitation on the part of Harold. He had already counted the cost and taken his resolution. He knew that he alone could hope to receive the general support of the great earls. Leofric and Gurth were his brothers, the Earls of Mercia and Northumbria had been mollified by the alliance arranged with their sister. The last male of the royal line was a lad of feeble character, and would be unable either to preserve peace at home or to unite the nation against a foreign invader. The oath he had sworn to William, although obtained partly by force partly by fraud, weighed upon him, but he was powerless to keep it. Did he decline the crown it would fall upon some other Englishman, and not upon the Norman. The vote of England had chosen him, and it was clearly his duty to accept. The die had been cast when Edith had bade him sacrifice her and himself for the good of England, and it was too late to turn back now. Gravely he accepted the dignity offered him.

Throughout London first, and then throughout the country, the news that the Witan had unanimously chosen him, and that he had accepted, was received with deep satisfaction. There was no time to be lost. The next day was Epiphany, the termination of the Christian festival, the last upon which the Witan could legally sit, and had the ceremony not taken place then it must have been delayed until another great feast of the church—another calling together of the Witan. All night the preparations for the two great ceremonials were carried on. At daybreak the body of the dead king was borne to the noble minster, that had been the chief object of his life to raise and beautify, and there before the great altar it was laid to rest with all the solemn pomp of the church. A few hours passed away and the symbols of mourning were removed. Then the great prelates of the church, the earls and the thanes of England, gathered for the coronation of the successor of the king whom they had just laid in his last resting-place. Eldred the primate of Northumberland performed the rites of consecration—for Stigand, primate of England, had been irregularly appointed, and was therefore deemed unfit for the high function. Before investing him with the royal robes Eldred, according to custom, demanded in a loud voice of the English people whether they were willing that Harold should be crowned their king, and a mighty shout of assent rang through the abbey. Then the earl swore first to preserve peace to the church and all Christian people; secondly, to prevent wrong and robbery to men of every rank; thirdly, to enforce justice and mercy in all his judgments as he would that God should have mercy on him. Then after a solemn prayer the prelate poured the oil of consecration upon Harold's head; he was vested in royal robes, and with symbols appertaining to the priesthood. A sword was girded to his side, that he might defend his realm, and smite his enemies and those of the church of God. Then the crown was placed on his head, the sceptre surmounted with the cross and the rod with the holy dove placed in his hands, and Harold stood before the people as the king chosen by themselves, named by his predecessor, and consecrated by the church. A great banquet followed the coronation, and then this day memorable in the history of England came to its close.

Wulf had been present at the two great events at the abbey and at the banquet, and knew, better than most of those present, that the gravity on Harold's face was not caused solely by the mighty responsibility that he had assumed, but by sad thoughts in his heart. Wulf on his return from the abbey had handed to Harold a small roll of parchment that had been slipped into his hand by a man, who at once disappeared in the crowd after handing it to him, with the words, "For the king". In the interval before the banquet he handed this to Harold, who had opened and glanced at it, and had then abruptly turned away. It contained but the words: "That God may bless my dear lord and king is the prayer of Edith."

"Do you know where she is?" Harold asked abruptly, turning upon Wulf.

"No, my lord."

"I have respected her wishes and made no inquiry," the king said. "Others think, doubtless, that I am rejoicing at having gained the object of my ambition, but as God knows, I would far rather have remained Earl of the West Saxons with her by my side than rule over England."

"I know it, my lord," Wulf said. "But who beside yourself could rule here?"

"No one," Harold answered; "and it is for England's sake and not my own that I have this day accepted the crown. If you can find out where she has betaken herself without making public inquiry I charge you to do so, and to tell her that on this day I have thought mostly of her. Tell me not where she is. What is done cannot be undone, but I would fain that, in the time that is to come, I may at least know where to send her a message should it be needful."



CHAPTER XIV.

WULF'S SUSPICIONS.

Beyond the fact that the name of the king had changed, the death of Edward and the accession of Harold made no sensible difference in the government of the southern half of England. Harold had practically reigned for years, and the fact that he was now able to give his orders direct instead of having nominally to consult Edward, had only the effect that the affairs of the state moved somewhat more promptly. Such of the Norman favourites of Edward as desired to leave were permitted to do so, and were honourably escorted to the coast, but many remained. The Norman prelates and abbots retained their dignities undisturbed, and several of the court officials of Edward held the same positions under Harold.

A fortnight after the coronation a party of Norman barons arrived, bearing a summons from Duke William to Harold to fulfil the oath he had sworn to be his man, and also to carry out his engagement to marry one of William's daughters. They were received with all honour, and Harold informed them that he would, without delay, reply to the duke's summons. A few days later three thanes of high rank started for Normandy with Harold's reply. Wulf accompanied them.

"I would that you should go with them, Wulf," Harold had said to him. "You are too young to be one of my embassy to Duke William, but it would be well that you should form one of the party. The duke knows you and has a liking for you, and possibly may speak more freely to you than to my official messengers. Moreover, you have many acquaintances and friends there, and may gather valuable news as to the feeling in Normandy and the probability of William's barons embarking in a desperate war for his advantage."

"I shall be glad to go, my lord."

"The duke knows well enough what my answer must be. He is aware that were I ready either to resign my kingship to him, or to agree to hold my crown as his vassal, the people of England would laugh to scorn my assumption so to dispose of them, and would assuredly renounce and slay me as a traitor who had broken the oath I swore at my coronation. It is a mere formal summons William makes, as one summons a city to surrender before undertaking its siege. It is but a move in the game. That he will, if he can, strike for the kingdom, I doubt not in any way, but it may well be that his barons will refuse to embark in a war beyond the seas, which is altogether beyond the military service they are bound to render. At any rate, we have breathing time. Vast preparations must be made before he can invade England, and until he is ready we shall have messengers passing to and fro. A few of my chief councillors, the earls and great thanes, refuse to believe that William will ever attempt by force of arms to grasp the crown of England, but for myself I have no doubt he will do so. I shall at once prepare for war; and the first step of all is to unite England from the northern border to the southern sea, so that we may oppose the Normans with our whole strength. This must be my personal work, other matters I must for a time intrust to the earls."

The train was not a large one. One ship bore the thanes and their attendants from Southampton to Rouen. They were received with all honour at their landing, conducted to a house that had been assigned to their use, and informed that they would be received by the duke on the following day. They had brought their horses with them, and as soon as they were housed Wulf mounted, and attended by Osgod rode to the castle of the De Burgs. Three years had past since he had last been there. He had from time to time received letters and greetings from Guy de Burg by the hands of Normans who visited the court, and knew that although he had gained in health and strength the predictions of the surgeons had been fulfilled, and that he would never be able to take part in knightly exercises or deeds of arms. The warden at the gate had sent in Wulf's name, and as he alighted a tall young man ran down the steps and embraced him.

"I am overjoyed to see you, Wulf," he exclaimed. "When we heard that Harold would send over an English embassy to answer the duke's demands, I hoped that you would be among the number. Harold would be likely to choose you, and I felt sure that you would come over to see me. I had a messenger waiting at Rouen to bring me tidings of the arrival of your ship, and it is scarcely an hour since he rode in with the news that, by inquiries among the servants as they landed, he had learned that you were indeed of the party. But I had hardly looked to see you until to-morrow morning, and had indeed intended to ride over on my palfrey at daybreak."

"I would not delay, Guy, for the answer we bear will not be to the duke's liking, and for aught I know he may pack us off again as soon as the interview is ended. Therefore, I thought it best to lose not a moment."

"I see you have brought your tall retainer with you, Wulf. I am glad to see the stout fellow again. But come in, they will chide me for keeping you so long at the entrance."

Wulf was warmly received by the baron and his wife. "You are just what I thought you would grow up, Wulf," the former said. "Indeed your figure was so set and square before, that there was little chance of great alteration. We have heard of you from time to time, and that you distinguished yourself greatly in the war against the Welsh, and stood high in the favour and affection of Harold. Guy has overshot you, you see, in point of height, though he is scarce half your breadth," and the baron looked with a suppressed sigh at the fragile young fellow, who stood with his hand on Wulf's shoulder.

"He looks better and stronger than I expected, my lord," Wulf said. "You must remember when I last saw him he could scarce walk across the room, and in my heart I scarce hoped to ever see him again."

"He gains strength very slowly," De Burg said wistfully; "but although he has to be careful of himself, he has no ailment."

"He could hardly gain strength while growing so fast," Wulf said; "but now that he has gained his full height he will, doubtless, gather strength, and as three years have done so much for him, another three years will I hope do far more. The Lady Agnes is well, I trust?"

"She is well, and will be here anon," the baroness said.

Guy laughed with something of his former heartiness. "She was here when the man brought news of your arrival, Wulf, but she fled away like a startled deer, and has, I suppose, gone to put on her best kirtle in your honour."

As he spoke Agnes entered the room. Considerable as was the change that three years had wrought in the young men, it was still greater in her case, for she had grown from a pretty young girl into a very lovely maiden, whose cheek flushed as she presented it for Wulf's salute.

"Would you have known her again, Wulf?" Guy asked with a smile.

"I should certainly have known her, though she has so greatly changed," Wulf replied. "I thought that you would be grown up and altered, but I scarcely looked for so great an alteration in her, though I might of course have known that it would be so."

"And now tell me, Wulf," the baron said, abruptly changing the conversation, "how go things in England—are people united in choosing Harold as their king?"

"The South, the East, and West are as one man," Wulf said. "Mercia, which comprises the midlands, has accepted the choice. Northumbria has as yet held itself aloof, although its earl has sworn allegiance and its primate has placed the crown on Harold's head; but in time, I am well assured, the North will also accept him. As I said when we spoke about it after Harold had been tricked into taking an oath to be William's man, he had no more power to pledge himself for England than I had. Englishmen are free to choose their own king, and as Harold has long been their ruler, their choice naturally fell on him.

"Harold is about to marry the sister of the Earls of Northumbria and Mercia, the widow of Griffith of Wales, and this will, I hope, bind these two powerful nobles to him. The only trouble is likely to come from Tostig, who is, as you know, at the court of Norway. But as he is hated in Northumbria, and the earl and his brother of Mercia both have personal enmity against him, he can gather no following there, while Anglia and Wessex are devoted to Harold. Still he and the King of Norway may cause trouble."

"The answer of Harold's ambassadors is, of course, a refusal?"

"Assuredly," Wulf said. "I do not know the exact import of the reply, as, although I have accompanied them, I am not a member of the embassy, being too young to be intrusted with so weighty a matter. But there can be but one answer. Harold is powerless to carry out his oath. He had the choice of becoming King of England, and thus defending our rights and freedom, or of refusing the crown, in which case he must have fled here, and could have given no aid whatever to William, as he himself would be regarded as the worst of traitors by the English. The duke must be perfectly well aware that a king of England could not, without the assent of the people, accept a foreign prince as his liege lord."

De Burg nodded.

"That is plainly so, Wulf; and although the duke professes intense indignation against Harold, he himself has, over and over again, broken his own oaths of allegiance to the King of France. Breaches of oaths go for little, except they serve as pretexts for war. It would have been the same thing if Harold had never taken the oath, except that his breach of it will be an aid to William in a war against him. We northmen came to France and conquered a province, simply by the right of the strongest. The duke has doubled his dominions by the same right. He deems himself now strong enough to conquer England; whether he is so remains to be seen. At present methinks that but few of us are disposed to follow him in such an enterprise, but there is never any saying how things will go at last. When war is in the air men's minds become heated. There will be dignities, estates, and titles to be won, and when many are ready to go, few like to hang back. More than once already William has embarked on a war against the wishes of the majority, but he has finally carried all with him, and it may be so again, especially if he can win over the pope to excommunicate Harold for the breach of an oath sworn on the relics."

"His excommunication will go for little in England," Wulf said sturdily. "Many of our prelates, and almost all our clergy are Englishmen, and hold in very small respect the claim of the pope to interfere in the affairs of England."

"And if Harold died who would be likely to succeed him?"

"I have never thought of that," Wulf said, "and I should think that few Englishmen have done so. If such a misfortune should happen, methinks that England would be rent in two, and that while Wessex and Anglia would choose one of his brothers, Mercia and the North would take Edwin or his brother Morcar as their king, but assuredly no foreign prince would be chosen."

"No, but with England divided the chance of conquest would be easier. You are about the king, Wulf. Keep a shrewd guard over him. I say not for a moment that the duke would countenance any attempt to do him harm, but there are many rough spirits who might think that they would gain his favour greatly did they clear his path of Harold, and who would feel all the less scruple in doing so, should the pope be induced to excommunicate him. Such things have happened again and again. Mind, I have no warrant for my speech. Methinks the honour of De Burg is too well known for anyone to venture to broach such a project before him, but so many kings and great princes have fallen by an assassin's knife to clear the way for the next heir or for an ambitious rival, that I cannot close my eyes to the fact that one in Harold's position might well be made the subject of such an attempt. The history of your own country will furnish you with examples of what I say."

"Thank you, my lord," Wulf said gravely. "The thought that an assassin's knife might be raised against Harold, who is of all men the most beloved in England, has never once entered my mind, but I see there may be indeed a danger of such an attempt being made. I do not greatly trust Morcar or his brother, and the danger may come from them, or, as you say, from one desirous of gaining favour with your duke. I will lay your warning to heart."

The conversation now turned on other topics, on the Welsh war and the life Wulf had been leading since they last met, and upon what had happened to the many acquaintances Wulf had made in Normandy. They talked until long past the usual hour for retiring to rest; Wulf slept at the chateau, and rode into Rouen at an early hour in the morning.

The audience next day was a public one. William was surrounded by his officers of state, and by a large number of his barons. The English envoys were ushered in, and the duke asked them in a loud voice what answer they brought to his just demands on the part of his sworn liegeman, Harold.

"The king of England bids us state, duke, that he holds an oath taken by a prisoner under force to be invalid, especially when taken in ignorance of the sanctity of the concealed relics; secondly, he says that he has been elected by the people of England, and that he has no power whatever to transfer the rights that they have conferred upon him, and which he has sworn to maintain, and that they would absolutely refuse to be bound by any act on his part contrary to the welfare of the kingdom, and to their rights as freemen; thirdly, as to your demand that he should carry out his promise to marry your daughter, he points out that the lady whose hand was promised to him has since that time died; and lastly, that although as Earl of Wessex he might transfer that engagement to another of your daughters, as king of England he is unable to do so, as the will of the people is that their king shall marry no foreign princess, but that the royal family shall be of unmixed English blood."

William frowned heavily. "You hear, my lords," he said, after a pause, to the Norman barons, "this English earl who was here as my guest refuses to carry out the engagements to which he swore upon the holy relics. I cannot, however, bring myself to believe that he will really persist in this foul perjury, and shall persevere in my endeavours to bring him to a sense of his duty, and to show him the foul dishonour that will rest upon him should he persist in this contempt alike of our holy church and his honour as a knight and a Christian, conduct that would bring upon him eternal infamy and the scorn and contempt of all the princes and nobles of Europe, and draw upon his head the wrath of the church." Then he abruptly turned on his heel and left the audience-chamber, while the English envoys returned to their house and made preparations for immediate departure.

A few minutes after his arrival there one of the duke's pages brought word to Wulf that the duke desired to speak to him in private. He at once went across to the palace. The duke received him cordially.

"I marked you were with the other thanes, and was glad to see one whom I count as my friend. Tell me frankly, what think the people of England of this monstrous act of perjury on the part of Harold?"

"To speak the truth, my lord duke," Wulf replied, "they trouble their heads in no way about it. They hold that the right of electing their king rests wholly with them, and that Harold's promise, to do what he had no more power to do than the lowest born of Englishmen, was but a waste of words. Harold himself feels the obligation far more than anyone else, and had there been any other Englishman who could have united the people as well as he could himself, he would gladly have stood aside; but there is none such, and he had no choice but to accept the decision of the Witan, and, for the sake of England, to lay aside his own scruples. The late king, too, nominated him as his successor, and although his voice had no legal weight, he is now regarded as almost a saint among the people. The fact, therefore, that he, full of piety and religion as he was, should have held that Harold's oath in no way prevented the people from choosing him, has gone very far to satisfy any scruples that might have been felt."

"Edward at one time named me as his successor," the duke said shortly.

"So I have heard, my lord duke; but as he grew in years and learned more of English feeling and character he became fully aware that the people would accept no foreign prince, and that only the man who had for thirteen years governed in his name could be their choice."

"And the great earls and thanes are likewise of that opinion?"

"Assuredly in Anglia and Wessex they are so. I know not the minds of Earls Morcar and Edwin, but they were at the Witan and stood by his side at the coronation, and doubtless felt that they could not rely upon their own people if they attempted any open opposition to Harold."

"And you will support this usurper against me, Wulf?"

"I shall fight, my lord duke, for the king chosen by the people of England. Should that choice some day fall on you I should be as faithful a follower of yours as I am now of Harold."

"Well answered, young thane. You have twice done me loyal service, and I at least do not forget my promises. As yet my mind is not made up as to my course, but should fate will it so, William of England will not forget the services rendered to William of Normandy."

A few minutes later Wulf rejoined his companions, and before nightfall the ship was far on her way down the river.

"Shall we go back to Steyning, my lord, when we return home?" Osgod asked as they stood by the bulwark together watching the passing shores.

"No, Osgod. I mean for a time to remain with the king. Baron de Burg yesterday hinted to me that he thought it possible that some of the duke's followers might endeavour to remove the obstacle between him and the throne of England. There are in every country desperate men, who are ready for any crime or deed of violence if they but think that its committal will bring them a reward. We have had English kings assassinated before now, and it has been the same in other countries. Moreover, there are many Normans who were forced to fly from England when Godwin's family returned from exile. These having a personal grudge against him would be willing to gratify it, and at the same time to earn a place in William's favour. Harold is so frank and unsuspicious that he will never think of taking precautions for his personal safety. You and I, then, must serve as his watch-dogs. It may be a difficult task, for we have no idea from what quarter that danger may come, and yet by chance we may discover some clue or other that will set us on the right track At any rate, if we are near him, and keep a watchful eye on any strangers approaching him, we may save him from a treacherous blow."

"Good, my lord. Methinks that Harold was wrong in not sending every Norman across the seas, and every man with whom I have spoken thinks the same. But at any rate we can, as you say, keep a sharp look-out, and although I cannot be always near his person, I shall go about and listen; and it will be hard if anything is on foot without my hearing some whisper of it. You will tell him no word of your suspicions, I suppose?"

"Certainly not. I have fears rather than suspicions, and Baron De Burg certainly spoke as if he regarded it as likely that such an attempt might be made, and he knows his own people better than I do. He expressly said that he had no special reason for giving me the warning, but he may have heard some angry remark or some covert threat against Harold; and although the duke would not, I feel sure, openly countenance his slaying, I think that the slayers might confidently look for a reward from his gratitude did they by their daggers open a way for him to the throne of England."

On the return of the embassy to London King Harold said to Wulf: "I have no further occasion for your services at present, Wulf, and I suppose you will return home and increase the number of your housecarls. It is not with undisciplined levies that the Normans, if they come, must be met. It is no question this time of Welsh mountaineers but of trained warriors, and should they land they must be met by men as firm and as obedient to orders as themselves. I am trying to impress this on all our thanes, but most of them are hard to move, and deem that all that is necessary on the day of battle is that men shall have strength and courage and arms."

"With your permission, my lord, I would rather abide near you, and leave the training of my men to the officer who taught those who fought by my side in Wales."

"I thought you did not care for the gaieties of the court?" Harold said, in some surprise.

"Nor do I, my lord. For its gaieties I care nothing, but in times like these there is much to be learned, and I would not bury myself in Steyning when there is so much of importance going on in London."

"Then stay, Wulf, I shall be glad to have you here. I have but little time to myself now, but it is a relief to put aside grave matters sometimes. I will appoint a room for you near my own chamber. You have heard no news of her, I suppose?"

"In truth, my lord, I know not how to set about the task, and it seems to me that my only chance is to run against one of her serving-men in the street."

"That is but a slight chance, Wulf; but even I, with all the power of England in my hands, am equally at a loss. I cannot send round to all the thanes of Wessex to ask if a strange lady has taken a house in their jurisdiction, nor to all the parish priests to ask if a new worshipper has come to their church. However, I believe that sooner or later she will herself advise me where she has hidden. It may be that your stay here will not be a long one, for I purpose journeying to the North."

"To Northumbria!" Wulf said in surprise.

"Yes; the people there refuse to recognize me, and I would win them by going among them rather than by force. My dear friend Bishop Wulfstan will accompany me. I shall take with me a body of my housecarls, partly as a guard, but more because I cannot now travel as a private person. It is very many years since an English king has visited Northumbria, and it is not strange that these northern men should object to be ruled by a stranger from the South. I shall take with me two or three of my thanes only, but shall be glad for you to ride with me. Young as you are, you have a quick eye and ready wit, and in case trouble should arise, I can rely upon you more than upon many men far older than yourself."

The palace of Westminster was not an imposing edifice. London had not yet become the capital of England, Oxford being the seat of government of most of the kings, so that the palace was built on a simple plan, and had been altered by Edward until the interior arrangements more nearly resembled those of a convent than of a palace. Below was the great banqueting-hall, and beyond this the chamber where the king heard complaints and administered justice. Leading from this were the king and queen's private chambers, where the one sat and read or received his chief councillors, and the other worked with her maids, and listened to the music of the harpers or the tales of war and love sung by bards.

Behind was the chapel. On the floor above a corridor ran from one end of the building to the doors which separated the royal sleeping-rooms from the rest. On either side of the corridor were small bed-chambers, where the officers of the household and guests at the court slept, their attendants lying in the corridor itself or in the kitchens, which with other offices were contained in a separate building. The room assigned to Wulf, and which Harold had ordered was henceforth to be retained for him, was that on the right hand of the corridor, next to the door leading to the royal apartments. Like the others it was a mere cell, with the straw pallet covered with sheep-skins, with some rugs for covering. This constituted the whole of the furniture. In the morning water was brought in brass ewers and basins, either by the pages or servants of the guests.

"Nothing could be better, my lord, than this," Osgod said. "I am a light sleeper, and lying across your door I am sure that no one could enter the king's apartments without my hearing those heavy doors move."

"There is but little chance, Osgod, of an attack being made on him in that fashion. Doubtless some of the royal servants sleep on the other side of the door. No, if any design be attempted against his life it will be when he is travelling, or when he is abroad amid a crowd."

"I saw Walter Fitz-Urse to-day, master, in the train of William of London."

"Then he must have returned within the last day or two, Osgod, for he has been absent for more than a year, and I know that when we sailed for Normandy he was still absent, for I inquired of one of the court officials if he had been here of late. What should bring him back again, I wonder. He has long been out of his pageship, and he can hope for no preferment in England while Harold is king. He has, I know, no great possessions in Normandy, for I asked Guy about him, and learned that his father was a knight of but small consideration, either as to his state or character, and that the boy owed his place as page to William of London, to the fact that he was a distant relation of the prelate.

"I would say harm of no man, but I should think he is as likely as another to be mixed up in such a plot as we are talking of. He is landless, hot-tempered, and ambitious. He owes no goodwill to Harold, for it was by his intervention that he was sent away in disgrace after that quarrel with me. At any rate, Osgod, since we have no one else to suspect, we will in the first place watch him, or rather have him looked after, for I see not how we ourselves can in any way keep near him. He knows me well, and has doubtless seen you with me, and having seen you once would not be likely to forget you."

"I think I can manage that," Osgod said confidently. "My father has a small apprentice who well-nigh worries his life out with tricks and trifling. I have more than once begged him off a beating, and methinks he will do anything for me. He is as full of cunning as an ape, and, I warrant me, would act his part marvellously. My father will be glad enough to get him out of the forge for a while, and when I tell him that it is in your service he will make no difficulty about it. He is fifteen years old, but so small for his age that he would pass for three years younger than he is."

"I think it is a very good plan, Osgod. You had best see your father in the morning, and if he consents to your having the boy, bring him down to the river-bank behind the abbey, where I will be awaiting you, and can there talk to him without observation. You are sure that he can be trusted to keep silence regarding what I tell him?"

"He can be trusted, my lord. In the first place he will enjoy playing his part, and in the second he will know well enough that I should nearly flay him alive with my stirrup-leather if he were to fail me, and that his life in the forge would be worse than ever."

The next morning Wulf strolled down to the river-bank after breaking his fast, and it was not long before Osgod joined him with the boy.

"Have you told him what he is required for, Osgod?" Wulf asked, as the boy, doffing his cap, stood before him with an air of extreme humility.

"I am not good at the telling of tales, as you know, my lord, and I thought it better that you should tell him just as much or as little as you chose."

"You don't like your work at the forge, Ulf?" for that Wulf had learned was the boy's name.

"I think that I like it better than it likes me," the boy replied. "When I get to do the fine work I shall like it, but at present it is 'fetch this tool, Ulf, or file that iron, or blow those bellows,' and if I do but smile I get a cuff."

"No, no, Ulf," Osgod said. "Of course, at present you are but a beginner, and at your age I too had to fetch and carry and be at the bidding of all the men; and it is not for smiling that you get cuffed, but for playing tricks and being away for hours when you are sent on a message to the next street, and doing your errands wrongly. My father tells me you will be a good workman some day. You will never be strong enough to wield a heavy hammer or to forge a battle-axe, but he says your fingers are quick and nimble, and that you will some day be able to do fine work such as clumsy hands could not compass. But that is not to the point now."