She argued
it with them, not to persuade them into base submission, but to satisfy
her own surprise.
"But what will you do?"
"Live in the greenwood."
"And what then?"
"Burn every town which a Frenchman holds, and kill every Frenchman we
meet."
"But what plan have you?"
"Who wants a plan, as you call it, while he has the green hollies
overhead, the dun deer on the lawn, bow in his hand, and sword by his
side?"
"But what will be the end of it all?"
"We shall live till we die."
"But William is master of all England."
"What is that to us? He is not our master."
"But he must be some day. You will grow fewer and fewer. His government
will grow stronger and stronger."
"What is that to us? When we are dead, there will be brave yeomen in
plenty to take our place. You would not turn traitor?"
"I? Never! never! I will live and die with you in your greenwood, as you
call it. Only--I did not understand you English."
Torfrida did not. She was discovering the fact, which her nation have more
than once discovered since, that the stupid valor of the Englishman never
knows when it is beaten; and sometimes, by that self-satisfied ignorance,
succeeds in not being beaten after all.
So Hereward--if the chronicles speak truth--assembled a formidable force,
well-nigh, at last, four hundred men.
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