Gilbert's lady would need give him the seat, and all the
honors, of a belted knight, though knight he was none. And daily and
weekly the valiant lad grew and hardened into a valiant man, and a
courteous one withal, giving no offence himself, and not over-ready to
take offence at other men.
The knights were civil enough to him, the ladies more than civil; he
hunted, he wrestled, he tilted; he was promised a chance of fighting for
glory, as soon as a Highland chief should declare war against Gilbert, or
drive off his cattle,--an event which (and small blame to the Highland
chiefs) happened every six months.
No one was so well content with himself as Hereward; and therefore he
fancied that the world must be equally content with him, and he was much
disconcerted when Martin drew him aside one day, and whispered: "If I were
my lord, I should wear a mail shirt under my coat to-morrow out hunting."
"What?"
"The arrow that can go through a deer's bladebone can go through a man's."
"Who should harm me?"
"Any man of the dozen who eat at the same table."
"What have I done to them? If I had my laugh at them, they had their laugh
at me; and we are quits."
"There is another score, my lord, which you have forgotten, and that is
all on your side."
"Eh?"
"You killed the bear.
Pages:
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87