'Go not away from thy country in the train of the foreign woman, Eadgyth,--though God forbid that I should say aught against her, for she is brave and beautiful,--but come thou over into the Fenlands, and share my risks, and comfort my poor old father, and tame me. Rough as I am, I would always be gentle to _thee_, Eadgyth.' 'Wouldst thou wed me with another man's image in my heart, Leofric?' asked Eadgyth, with a trembling voice. 'I would drive out that image by my own,' avowed Leofric. 'That thou wilt never do, coosine!' said Eadgyth firmly. 'No, do not dream it. I can never be his, neither can I wed any other. Nor can I leave my lady now in her sore distress and sorrow. No, Leofric, I cannot go with thee; ask me no more, it is but pain to both.' Then Leofric saw she was in earnest, and desisted. Affecting to see some dangerous object that required investigation, he struck spurs into his _hacquenée_, and dashed off into the brushwood that bordered the road; and when he joined the cavalcade again, he took care not to choose the neighbourhood of his cousin's palfrey. About a fortnight later, the countess and her ladies, amongst whom was the faithful Eadgyth, went on board a long-bodied, high-prowed galley at Lovelly's Staithe. It was propelled by twenty-five oars on each side, and flaunted gaudy embroidered sails to the wind, the mainmast being surrounded by a gallery round which a sentinel could walk. The garrison of Blauncheflour embarked on board a small flotilla of similar vessels. We may imagine how they suffered as they made tedious progress down the rough east coast, passing Dunwich and Ipswich, and the low-lying estuaries of Maldon and the Thames; and farther south, Sandwich and the high white cliffs of Dover, famous then, although no Shakespeare had sung them. How they raised their weary heads and strained their sad eyes to look at the castles which William the Norman had built at Hastings and Lewes and Arundel; and how Eadgyth wept to see them, because they reminded her of slain Harold Godwinsson, and were proof of the downfall of her nation. Emma was sorrowful too, because they witnessed to the valour and success of the greatest captain of the age, whom her father, stout William Fitzosbern, had loved and honoured, and against whom she was in rebellion. They slipped as quickly as might be past the rough Norman coast, keeping as far out to sea as possible, lest Norman vessels should come down on them and harry them, and bear off the precious charge they guarded, to be kept in durance vile till ransom was extorted, which was far from improbable, notwithstanding the forty days' safe-conduct given them by William's officers. Standing out so far to sea, they got a rough tossing on Atlantic rollers, and many a baptism of Atlantic spray. With what joy they hailed the first glimpse of the Breton rocks! How glad they were when they made the Ille, and floated under the staithes of Dinan!