"Joyously will we partake of thine hospitality, good Richard, for an hour or so, although our march be thereby delayed. Thy Howel, I know, will lead Ralph de Mortemar to thy very door. Say, who is the lad? Son of thine, I wager." "My eldest son, so please you. Osbern, stand forth." "Hah! Osbern fitzRichard, how sayest thou? "Wilt thou serve my lady in bower and at board until such time as thou be old enough to ride with me into battle?" "Assurement, mon seignior!" replied the child, upon his knee beside his father in a moment. His French had the thick accent of an Englishman. FitzOsbern smiled down upon him. "Shalt learn more gracious French," said he, "but not more gracious manners. Well, let us be going." "Seignior," said one of the esquires, "I hear the tramp of many feet, but no voices at all." "The English!" cried William, and Richard the Scrob sprang to his feet. "They think to surprise us. It were best parley with them in the open, in peaceable guise. Boy, I will carry thee behind me." Osbern clambered on to the Earl's steed. "Sir, have I your leave?" asked Richard of Sir Walter de Lacy, who rode on the left of his master. Lacy nodded, and instantly Richard was astride behind him. He had scarcely mounted, when a strange, seething hiss resounded from one side of the street, and above their heads. Another hiss, and another: a splutter, then a crackle; and the thatch of the maltman's dwelling, which adjoined his barn, burst into steadily-spreading flame. "O Mary! happy thought!" they heard in the fatuous tones of the maltman's son Oswin. "Hem them right well about, and watch them cook alive!" "Thank God for burning pitch!" and in the indignant voice of Grim: "Thou oaf! Would thou had been born dumb! We had them snared!" A horse neighed shrilly; the other horses echoed the warning sound. "Quick, ere terror benumb them!" the Earl shouted. "Right about--a dash for it!" A bucketful of hot pitch streamed from one roof, hot charcoal cinders showered from another; some one flung a lighted torch. Another thatch was already on fire. The English were formed in a thin ring all round Ludford. The Norman charge scattered those at the bottom of the street, and the horsemen poured out. "Follow me!" cried Richard. "I know a way to baffle them. Ride, sirs--ride as ye were devils!" Edric of Clun, on horseback, planted himself in fitzOsbern's way with menacing gesture; William hurled his truncheon, hit him on the head, and sent him tumbling from his saddle. Ednoth clung like a vice to Richard's legs for some yards, and was thrown to the ground, and trampled by many hurrying hooves. The few mounted English tried valiantly to intercept the trained cavalry, but were unhorsed or put to flight. "To Richard's hall!" shouted Ulwin, from the background, where he was making tentative passes in the air with an antique sword. "Overton! Overton! Fire! Burn! Torches, I say--bring torches! Come on, all of you! Come, burn his house to the ground!"