"We thought you might know him, Sir Knight, if you come from Flanders, as
you say you do," said three or four voices in a surprised and surly tone.
"Certainly I know such a man, if he be Hereward the wolf's-head, Hereward
the outlaw, as they call him. And a good soldier he is, though he be not
yet made a knight; and married, too, to a rich and fair lady. I served
under this Hereward a few months ago in the Friesland War, and know no man
whom I would sooner follow."
"Nor I neither," chimed in Martin Lightfoot from the other end of the
table.
"Nor we," cried all the men-at-arms at once, each vying with the other in
extravagant stories of their hero's prowess, and in asking the knight of
Flanders whether they were true or not.
To avoid offending them, Hereward was forced to confess to a great many
deeds which he had never done: but he was right glad to find that his fame
had reached his native place, and that he could count on the men if he
needed them.
"But who is this Hereward," said he, "that he should have to do with your
town here?"
Half a dozen voices at once told him his own story.
"I always heard," said he, dryly, "that that gentleman was of some very
noble kin; and I will surely tell him all that has befallen here as soon
as I return to Flanders.
Pages:
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314