Tell us the truth."
"The Abbot has made peace with the King. He would give up the island, and
St. Etheldreda should keep all her lands and honors. I said what I could;
but who was I to resist the whole chapter? Could I alone brave St.
Etheldreda's wrath?"
"Alwyn, the valiant, afraid of a dead girl!"
"Blaspheme not, Hereward! She may hear you at this moment! Look there!"
and pointing up, the monk cowered in terror, as a meteor flashed through
the sky.
"That is St. Etheldreda shooting at us, eh? Then all I can say is, she is
a very bad marksman. And the French are in the island?"
"They are."
"Then forward, men, for one half-hour's pleasure; and then to die like
Englishmen."
"On?" cried Alwyn. "You cannot go on. The King is at Whichford at this
moment with all his army, half a mile off! Right across the road to Ely!"
Hereward grew Berserk. "On! men!" shouted he, "we shall kill a few
Frenchmen apiece before we die!"
"Hereward," cried Torfrida, "you shall not go on! If you go, I shall be
taken. And if I am taken, I shall be burned. And I cannot burn,--I cannot!
I shall go mad with terror before I come to the stake. I cannot go stript
to my smock before those Frenchmen. I cannot be roasted piecemeal!
Hereward, take me away! Take me away! or kill me, now and here!"
He paused.
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