Then said the countess, smiling, 'Wilt thou have thine accolade in our Norman fashion, from the hands of a knight, and take Sir Hoël de St. Brice for thy sponsor, or, in the way of thine own people, at the hands of Father Pierre?' 'Nay,' quoth the turbulent hero, 'there is a better way than either. Many a good man has taken his knighthood from the hands of a maiden. Let my fair kinswoman, thy bower-maiden, stand sponsor to me;' and he turned appealingly to Eadgyth. 'A truce to thy jests, Leofric Ealdredsson, this is no time for them!' answered Eadgyth sharply, fingering the bracelet she always wore upon her arm. 'By the Rood, I mean no jest, coosine! Jourdain took his knighthood from the hands of his lady; why not I from thee?' 'Keep to the old Saxon custom, Leofric; take it from the hands of Father Pierre.' And so he did; and his last night within the walls of Blauncheflour was spent in vigil and prayer before the altar of the chapel, whereon lay his armour. On the morrow, the brave defenders of Norwich Castle marched forth from its sheltering walls, with all the honours of war; carrying their arms, and fully equipped, with flags flying and banners waving. The leaders of the royal forces sent palfreys for the countess and her ladies, and came in state to meet the woman who had held them all at bay so long, armed _cap-à-pie_, their horses prancing and curveting, and plumes dancing in the breeze. Many a courtly compliment they paid to their fair foe, and Earl Warrenne took the keys himself from her white hands. Then Bishop Geoffrey, and Earl Warrenne, and Robert Malet took possession of Castle Blauncheflour formally, and threw into it a garrison of three hundred men-at-arms, and a body of balistarii and other engineers. And Archbishop Lanfranc wrote to King William, in terms more forcible than polite, 'Glory be to God on high! your kingdom is at last purged from the filth of these Bretons.' CHAPTER XXV. BRETAGNE. The days that followed seemed like an evil dream to the countess and her ladies. Several of the Breton knights who were amongst the garrison had manors in the neighbourhood; these were, of course, under confiscation; still, for the forty days allowed them to get away from England, they retained the lordship of their estates, and were able to offer hospitality to Emma. On their way to a temporary retreat thus provided for them, the newly-dubbed knight, Sir Leofric Ealdredsson, reined in the somewhat sorry jade he had managed to procure, to the side of his kinswoman Eadgyth, as on a happier occasion Sir Aimand de Sourdeval had reined in a nobler steed. 'Alack, coosine! the Norman fell-monger is safe in his seat now. Our last, chance is over and done. We have nought left but to submit with the best grace we can muster,' he said sadly. Eadgyth turned to him with an unfathomable regret in her limpid eyes. 'Yes, it is too true; the Normans have conquered.'