It is a wise son knows his own father."
Hereward burst out laughing.
"Would to heaven I had had thee for my man this three years since."
"Perhaps I would not have been thy man."
"Why not?"
"Because I have been my own man ever since I was born, and am well content
with myself for my master."
"Shall I bind up thy leg?" asked Hereward, having no more to say, and not
wishing to kill the man.
"No. It will grow again, like a crab's claw."
"Thou art a fiend." And Hereward turned away, sulky, and half afraid.
"Very like. No man knows what a devil he is, till he tries."
"What dost mean?" and Hereward turned angrily back.
"Fiends we are all, till God's grace comes."
"Little grace has come to thee yet, by thy ungracious tongue."
"Rough to men, may be gracious to women."
"What hast thou to do with women'?" asked Hereward, fiercely.
"I have a wife, and I love her."
"Thou art not like to get back to her to-day."
"I fear not, with this paltry scratch. I had looked for a cut from thee,
would have saved me all fighting henceforth."
"What dost mean?" asked Hereward, with an oath.
"That my wife is in heaven, and I would needs follow her."
Hereward got on his horse, and rode away. Never could he find out who that
Sir Letwold was, or how he came into the Bruneswald.
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