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Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875

"Hereward, the Last of the English"

And bitterly he
cursed his youthful sins as he rode to and fro almost daily to the port of
Calais, asking for news, and getting often only too much.
For now came news that the Norsemen had landed in Humber: that Edwin and
Morcar were beaten at York; that Hardraade and Tosti were masters of the
North.
And with that, news that, by the virtue of the relics of St. Valeri, which
had been brought out of their shrine to frighten the demons of the storm,
and by the intercession of the blessed St. Michael, patron of Normandy,
the winds had changed, and William's whole armament had crossed the
Channel, landed upon an undefended shore, and fortified themselves at
Pevensey and Hastings.
And then followed a fortnight of silence and torturing suspense.
Hereward could hardly eat, drink, sleep, or speak. He answered Torfrida's
consolations curtly and angrily, till she betook herself to silent
caresses, as to a sick animal. But she loved him all the better for his
sullenness; for it showed that his English heart was wakening again, sound
and strong.
At last news came. He was down, as usual, at the port. A ship had just
come in from the northward. A man just landed stood on the beach
gesticulating, and calling in an unknown tongue to the bystanders, who
laughed at him, and seemed inclined to misuse him.


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