willows and alders, and falling upon the workmen and destroying their works. On several occasions he cut the Norman guard to pieces before they could form in order of battle; and several times he destroyed in a single night the labour of many days, levelling the Norman towers with the ground, breaking up their bridges, and carrying off their timber and their tools and other good spoil. It always happened that when his enemies were surest he would not come, he came; and when they expected him at one given point, he was sure to make an attack upon another and distant point. At times his ambuscades, surprises, and onslaughts were so numerous and rapid that he seemed to have the faculty of being in many places at one and the same time. Many a Norman knight was surprised at his post, or even carried off from the midst of a camp, and dragged through the rushes and forests at the dead of night, an astounded and helpless captive. Many a time a great body of Norman troops would take to flight and leave all their baggage behind them, upon merely hearing the shout of “Hereward for England!” or those other shouts, “The Lord of Brunn is coming! Fly, ye Norman thieves! Out! out!” Such were Lord Hereward’s successes, and such the Norman awe of his unforeseen stratagems and unaccountable surprises, that the Normans entirely believed Hereward to be in league with the devil, and to be aided by witches and necromancers and fiends worse than the blubber devils of Crowland. Now it was true that, for many of his stratagems and devices, and for many of the sleights and tricks with which he appalled the Normans, Hereward was indebted to the science and travail of that thin, dark man of Salerno and Norman-hater, Girolamo; and, by means of deserters from the camp, and by means of ransomed Normans that had been allowed to quit the camp, the Salernitan, if he had not been made well known to the Normans, had been much talked about, and had become the object of so much dread that no knight or man-at-arms ever named his name without crossing himself. Nor were the Normans long before they agreed, one and all, that the dark and silent Salernitan was Hereward’s chief magician, the devil-dealing necromancer to whom he stood indebted for all his successes. Loudly did they raise their voices against this supposed wickedness; and yet, when they found that their misfortunes and losses went on increasing, they came to the resolution to meet what was no witchcraft at all with real witchcraft, and they told Duke William in Cam-Bridge Castle that he must send over into Normandie for the most famed witch of that land, where there was no lack either of witches or of warlocks; and the son of Robert the Devil, whose father, as his name imports, had been liege man to Lucifer, sent over to Normandie accordingly to seek for the most dreaded of Norman witches. Now, whether it was this wickedness that did it, or whether it was that the moist air of the fens and the autumnal