warm bath, which was ever offered in good Saxon houses on the arrival of an honoured and welcome guest—and where was the guest that could be more welcome than the bard? So dearly did the Lord of Brunn love the sound of the harp that it was his occasional custom now, and his constant custom in after-life, to place a harper near his bedchamber to amuse and solace him upon occasion, and for the exhilaration of his spirits and as an excitement to devotion. And it was because Hereward so loved menestrels, and pious and learned men of the Saxon stock, that his friends and adherents were so numerous while he was living, and his deeds so faithfully recorded and lovingly preserved when he was dead. Thus music and talk brought on the hour for supper; and after supper the good mass-priest said prayers in the hall to gentle and simple; and then, when a good watch had been set, all of the household went to their beds and prayed to lead as happy a life on the morrow as that which they had led to day: for, whether serfs, or free-born men, or manumitted churls, all were happy at Ey, and most kindly entreated by lord and ladie twain; in such sort that what happened in other houses, as the running away of serfs, or the putting collars round their necks and gyves to their legs to prevent their running away, never happened here or at Brunn. And if they lived thus happily and orderly for these few days at Ey, when danger was close at hand, and when they might be said to be living in the midst of perils and uncertainties, I wist their rule was not changed at a later time of their lives, when Hereward and Alftrude came to dwell in safety and tranquility at the noble old house at Brunn. But during these few tranquil days at Ey the young bride’s mind was at times clouded by the thought that her husband must soon leave her to contend with the pitiless Normans, and to rush into all the hazards of war; and, Saxon-hearted as she was, this afflictive thought, being aided by the gentleness of her nature, which ever revolted at bloodshed, made her long for a peace upon almost any terms, not even excepting that of submission to the Norman dominion. “My Hereward!” said the Ladie Alftrude, “it is now more than four years since the banner of King Harold was laid low, and yet blood hath never ceased flowing in England! When will this cruel war come to an end? Oh, Hereward, why wilt thou leave me again, and so soon? What art thou fighting for?” “Sweet Alftrude,” quoth the Lord of Brunn, “I am fighting for my country, for the Saxon church, and for mine own inheritance! A man can hardly have more to fight for!”