So he answered,--
"Osbiorn the Earl has not, it seems, heard this of Hereward: that because
he is accustomed to command, he is also accustomed to obey. What thou wilt
do, do, and bid me do. He that quarrels with his captain cuts his own
throat and his fellows' too."
"Wisely spoken!" said the earls; and Hereward went back to his ship.
"Torfrida," said he, bitterly, "the game is lost before it is begun."
"God forbid, my beloved! What words are these?"
"Swend--fool that he is with his over-caution,--always the same!--has let
the prize slip from between his fingers. He has sent Osbiorn instead of
himself."
"But why is that so terrible a mistake?"
"We do not want a fleet of Vikings in England, to plunder the French and
English alike. We want a king, a king, a king!" and Hereward stamped with
rage. "And instead of a king, we have this Osbiorn,--all men know him,
greedy and false and weak-headed. Here he is going to be beaten off at
Dover; and then, I suppose, at the next port; and so forth, till the whole
season is wasted, and the ships and men lost by driblets. Pray for us to
God and his saints, Torfrida, you who are nearer to Heaven than I; for we
never needed it more."
And Osbiorn went in; tried to take Dover; and was beaten off with heavy
loss.
Then the earls bade him take Hereward's advice.
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