“As for that,” quoth Hereward (who had remounted his horse from prudential motives, and set him athwart the gateway, so that there was no chance of the doors being slammed behind him), “if either of you will lend me sixteen pence, I will pay it back to you and St. Peter before I die, with interest enough to satisfy any Jew, on the word of a gentleman and an earl’s son.” The Abbot burst again into a great laughter. “Come in, thou graceless renegade, and we will see to thee and thy horse; and I will pray to St. Peter; and I doubt not he will have patience with thee, for he is very merciful; and after all, thy parents have been exceeding good to us, and the righteousness of the father, like his sins, is sometimes visited on the children.” Now, why were the two ecclesiastics so uncanonically kind to this wicked youth? Perhaps because both the old bachelors were wishing from their hearts that they had just such a son of their own. And beside, Earl Leofric was a very great man indeed; and the wind might change; for it is an unstable world. “Only, mind, one thing,” said the naughty boy, as he dismounted, and halloed to a lay-brother to see to his horse,--“don’t let me see the face of that Herluin.” “And why? You have wronged him, and he will forgive you, doubtless, like a good Christian as he is.” “That is his concern. But if I see him, I cut off his head. And, as Uncle Brand knows, I always sleep with my sword under my pillow.” “O that such a mother should have borne such a son.” groaned the Abbot, as they went in. On the fifth day came Martin Lightfoot, and found Hereward in Prior Brand’s private cell. “Well?” asked Hereward coolly. “Is he--? Is he--?” stammered Brand, and could not finish his sentence. Martin nodded. Hereward laughed,--a loud, swaggering, hysterical laugh. “See what it is to be born of just and pious parents. Come, Master Trot-alone, speak out and tell us all about it. Thy lean wolf’s legs have run to some purpose. Open thy lean wolf’s mouth and speak for once, lest I ease thy legs for the rest of thy life by a cut across the hams. Find thy lost tongue, I say!” “Walls have ears, as well as the wild-wood,” said Martin. “We are safe here,” said the Prior; “so speak, and tell us the whole truth.” “Well, when the Earl read the letter, he turned red, and pale again, and then naught but, ‘Men, follow me to the King at Westminster.’ So we went, all with our weapons, twenty or more, along the Strand, and up into the King’s new hall; and a grand hall it is, but not easy to get into, for the crowd of monks and beggars on the stairs, hindering honest folks’ business. And there sat the King on a high settle, with his pink face and white hair, looking as royal as a bell-wether new washed; and on either side of him, on the same settle, sat the old fox and the young wolf.” “Godwin and Harold? And where was the Queen?”