And the hearts of all the French were turned to water; and the land had
peace from its tyrants for many days.
CHAPTER XXI.
HOW IVO TAILLEBOIS MARCHED OUT OF SPALDING TOWN.
A proud man was Ivo Taillebois, as he rode next morning out of Spalding
town, with hawk on fist, and hound at heel, and a dozen men-at-arms at his
back, who would, on due or undue cause shown, hunt men while he hunted
game.
An adventurer from Anjou, brutal, ignorant, and profligate,--low-born, too
(for his own men whispered, behind his back, that he was no more than his
name hinted, a wood-cutter's son), he still had his deserts. Valiant he
was, cunning, and skilled in war. He and his troop of Angevine ruttiers
had fought like tigers by William's side, at Hastings; and he had been
rewarded with many a manor, which had been Earl Algar's, and should now
have been Earl Edwin's, or Morcar's, or, it may be, Hereward's own.
"A fat land and fair," said he to himself; "and, after I have hanged a few
more of these barbarians, a peaceful fief enough to hand down to the
lawful heirs of my body, if I had one. I must marry. Blessed Virgin! this
it is to serve and honor your gracious majesty, as I have always done
according to my poor humility. Who would have thought that Ivo Taillebois
would ever rise so high in life as to be looking out for a wife,--and that
a lady, too?"
Then thought he over the peerless beauties of the Lady Lucia, Edwin and
Morcar's sister, almost as fair as that hapless aunt of hers,--first
married (though that story is now denied) to the wild Griffin, Prince of
Snowdon, and then to his conqueror, and (by complicity) murderer, Harold,
the hapless king.
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