Richard de Mallory, however, appeared by no means satisfied with the apology; the less so, when upon inquiry he heard that the lady whose unseen charms detained the young lord from the field was of Saxon descent. That the scion of so illustrious a stock should intermarry with that contemned race was an idea which startled the prejudices of the proud Norman; insomuch that he evidently entertained serious doubts of the truth of the narration. “Elfrida of Kennet Hold!” he muttered to himself; “named not the Saxon whom our spies brought hither this morning the name of Kennet Hold?” “He did,” replied Eustace. “Lead him hither,” said De Mallory; and instantly, from one of the avenues which led into the forest, some armed men brought forth a captive Saxon, in whom Reginald immediately recognized the messenger who had escaped from his baffled followers in the morning. The Saxon also bestowed a glance of recognition upon his fellow-captive. “Saxon,” said De Mallory scornfully, “what saidst thou was thy name? for in truth the appellations of thy race dwell not long in Norman remembrance.” “I am called,” said the prisoner, looking on Reginald as he spoke, “Lothaire, the first-born of Leofwyn of Kennet Hold. Thy name, Richard de Mallory, is not unknown to me: thou art one of those who have raised up the subjects against the king, and the sons against the father. But the work needed not thine agency. It shall be long ere a Norman shall know peace on the throne of Harold; long ere the gods of the Saxons shall cease to revenge upon the head of his descendants the usurpation of the first William.” “I asked not for thy forebodings; nor knew I that I had a prophet in my camp. One more question shall I ask thee. Shall Reginald d’Arennes wed thy father’s daughter?” Lothaire seemed much embarrassed by the question: he hesitated for some time; until at last, smiling, as if he had found the means of releasing himself from some difficulty, he looked at Reginald with an unintelligible expression of countenance, and replied, “He rideth with that purpose.” “It is enough,” exclaimed the chief. “The Norman knight that can stoop to wed with the daughter of a Saxon franklin is no fellow in arms for Richard de Mallory. Let them wend on their way together. Where is the fool? It were a pity to deny him such fit company.”