"I think I have put a spoke in your wheel about the fair
Alftruda."
"Eh? How? Most courteous victor?"
"Sir Ascelin is not a very wealthy gentleman."
Ascelin laughed assent.
"Nudus intravi, nudus exeo--England; and I fear now, this mortal life
likewise."
"But he looked to his rich uncle the Abbot, to further a certain
marriage-project of his. And, of course, neither my friend Gilbert of
Ghent, nor my enemy William of Normandy, are likely to give away so rich
an heiress without some gratification in return."
"Sir Hereward knows the world, it seems."
"So he has been told before. And, therefore, having no intention that Sir
Ascelin, however worthy of any and every fair lady, should marry this one;
he took care to cut off the stream at the fountain-head. If he hears that
the suit is still pushed, he may cut off another head beside the
fountain's."
"There will be no need," said Ascelin, laughing again. "You have very
sufficiently ruined my uncle, and my hopes."
"My head?" said he, as soon as Hereward was out of hearing. "If I do not
cut off thy head ere all is over, there is neither luck nor craft left
among Normans. I shall catch the Wake sleeping some day, let him be never
so wakeful."
CHAPTER XXXVI.
HOW ALFTRUDA WROTE TO HEREWARD.
The weary months ran on, from summer into winter, and winter into summer
again, for two years and more, and neither Torfrida nor Hereward were the
better for them.
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