It will be the wiser plan, my friends. Give me up to be judged and
hanged, and so purge yourselves of the villanous murder of Gilbert's
cook,--your late lord and master."
"Lord and master! We are free men!" shouted the holders, or yeomen
gentlemen. "We hold our lands from God and the sun."
"You are our lord!" shouted the socmen, or tenants. "Who but you? We will
follow, If you will lead!"
"Hereward is come home!" cried a feeble voice behind. "Let me come to him.
Let me feel him."
And through the crowd, supported by two ladies, tottered the mighty form
of Surturbrand, the blind Viking.
"Hereward is come!" cried he, as he folded his master's son in his arms.
"Hoi! he is wet with blood! Hoi! he smells of blood! Hoi! the ravens will
grow fat now, for Hereward is come home!"
Some would have led the old man away; but he thrust them off fiercely.
"Hoi! come wolf! Hoi! come kite! Hoi! come erne from off the fen! You
followed us, and we fed you well, when Swend Forkbeard brought us over the
sea. Follow us now, and we will feed you better still, with the mongrel
Frenchers who scoff at the tongue of their forefathers, and would rob
their nearest kinsman of land and lass. Hoi! Swend's men! Hoi! Canute's
men! Vikings' sons, sea-cocks' sons, Berserkers' sons all! Split up the
war-arrow, and send it round, and the curse of Odin on every man that will
not pass it on! A war-king to-morrow, and Hildur's game next day, that the
old Surturbrand may fall like a freeholder, axe in hand, and not die like
a cow, in the straw which the Frenchman has spared him.
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