Were he not my good lord's
brother-in-law, as he is, more's the pity, I would challenge him to fight
_a l'outrance_, with any weapons he might choose."
"Heaven protect him in that case," quoth Robert the Frison.
"As it is, I will keep the peace. And I will see that my men keep the
peace, though there are Scarborough and Bamborough lads among them, who
long to cut his throat upon the streets. But more I will not do."
So Tosti sulked through the winter at St. Omer, and then went off to get
help from Sweyn, of Denmark, and failing that, from Harold Hardraade of
Norway. But how he sped there must be read in the words of a cunninger
saga-man than this chronicler, even in those of the "Icelandic Homer,"
Snorro Sturleson.
CHAPTER XVI.
HOW HEREWARD WAS ASKED TO SLAY AN OLD COMRADE.
In those days Hereward went into Bruges, to Marquis Baldwin, about his
business. And as he walked in Bruges street, he met an old friend, Gilbert
of Ghent.
He had grown somewhat stouter, and somewhat grayer, in the last ten years:
but he was as hearty as ever; and as honest, according to his own notions
of honesty.
He shook Hereward by both hands, clapt him on the back, swore with many
oaths, that he had heard of his fame in all lands, that he always said
that he would turn out a champion and a gallant knight, and had said it
long before he killed the bear.
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