'To unseat that upstart and usurper, William the Bastard, from his ill-gotten seat on the throne of England, and to put a better man in his place,' answered Sir Alain in a hectoring tone; 'and to win for ourselves such good shares of the lands as is due to our valorous lances.' Sir Aimand started back, looking fixedly at the Breton, and his hand instinctively sought his sword-hilt; but in a moment he regained his composure. 'Methinks the earl's somewhat ponderous Saxon hospitality has turned thy hot brains a bit, Sir Alain,' he said contemptuously. 'Neither thou nor I are likely to drink that pledge!' Sir Alain smiled at him with an evil smile, but he kept his temper. 'St. Nicholas! But every man here has drunk it this evening, and every man who sat at Ralph de Guader's marriage board; and, sooth to say, if thou hadst been present to hear the list of that same William's crimes that were brought up against him, methinks so virtuous a knight as thyself had drunk it too, with a rider to vow that such vermin were best exterminated from the earth.' 'It is true, De Sourdeval! All drank the pledge,--Normans, Bretons, and Saxons,' chorused the knights around. 'We are under oath to pull William from the throne and set up Waltheof in his stead.' 'It cannot be!' cried Sir Aimand, overwhelmed. 'It is treachery! The earl cannot be guilty of such baseness!' 'And who art thou to stigmatise as baseness what so many men as good as thee hold fit and good?' chorused the Bretons. 'By the rood! ye are scarcely fair to the lad,' said one somewhat more sober than his companions. 'The communication is sudden, to say the least. Neither did he hear the eloquent catalogue of William's faults which wrought our blood to the boiling point.' 'Nor would I have listened to a word of it!' cried Sir Aimand fiercely. 'I would have thrown down my gauntlet had it been the earl himself who traduced his liege lord and king! And what were ye for leal knights, fair sirs, that ye gave ear to such treason?' 'Look ye, my galliard,' said Alain de Gourin contemptuously, 'I should advise you to drop that hero of romaunt strain, for it is a little out of fashion here and now. By my halidom, thou wilt scarce find a foot-page in the whole camp that will support thee! The fell-monger's grandson has carried his tyrannies a little too far even for the patient stomachs of his servile Normans at last; and as for us Bretons, we have long bided our time to pay him out for those dishes of Italian soup to which he treated Counts Alain and Conan.' 'I will never drop the strain whilst I have breath in my body!' said Sir Aimand stoutly. 'Perhaps, when the morning comes, it will be you who will pipe to a different tune, fair sirs. Let me pass, gentlemen; I would go to my pavilion.'