"
"The Lord Hereward," said Herluin, "has doubtless learned much from the
manners of our nation which he would not have learned in England. I
rejoice to see him returned so Christian and so courtly a knight."
"The Lord Hereward, Prior Herluin, has learnt one thing in his
travels,--to know somewhat of men and the hearts of men, and to deal with
them as they deserve of him. They tell me that one Thorold of
Malmesbury,--Thorold of Fecamp, the minstrel, he that made the song of
Rowland,--that he desires this abbey."
"I have so heard, my lord."
"Then I command,--I, Hereward, Lord of Bourne!--that this abbey be held
against him and all Frenchmen, in the name of Swend Ulfsson, king of
England, and of me. And he that admits a Frenchman therein, I will shave
his crown for him so well, that he shall never need razor more. This I
tell thee; and this I shall tell your monks before I go. And unless you
obey the same, my dream will be fulfilled; and you will see Goldenbregh in
a light low, and burning yourselves in the midst thereof."
"Swend Ulfsson? Swend of Denmark? What words are these?" cried Brand.
"You will know within six months, uncle."
"I shall know better things, my boy, before six months are out."
"Uncle, uncle, do not say that."
"Why not? If this mortal life be at best a prison and a grave, what is it
worth now to an Englishman?"
"More than ever; for never had an Englishman such a chance of showing
English mettle, and winning renown for the English name.
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