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Kingsley, Charles, 1819-1875

"Hereward, the Last of the English"

How knowest thou me, man?"
"I am of Waterford. Thou hadst a slave lass once, I think; Mew: they
called her Mew, her skin it was so white."
"What's that to thee?" asked Thord, turning on him savagely.
"Why, I meant no harm. I saw her at Waterford when I was a boy, and
thought her a fair lass enough, that is all."
And Martin dropped into the rear. By this time they were at the gates of
St. Omer.
As they rode side by side, Hereward got more details of the fight.
"I knew it would fall out so. I foretold it!" said Thord. "I had a dream.
I saw us come to English land, and fight; and I saw the banners floating.
And before the English army was a great witchwife, and rode upon a wolf,
and he had a corpse in his bloody jaws. And when he had eaten one up, she
threw him another, till he had swallowed all."
"Did she throw him thine?" asked Martin, who ran holding by the stirrup.
"That did she, and eaten I saw myself. Yet here I am alive."
"Then thy dreams were naught."
"I do not know that. The wolf may have me yet."
"I fear thou art fey." [Footnote: Prophesying his own death.]
"What the devil is it to thee if I be?"
"Naught. But be comforted. I am a necromancer; and this I know by my art,
that the weapon that will slay thee was never forged in Flanders here.


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