Emma smiled and bowed, and tried to pay them equal compliments in return. 'With such a castle, and such gallant defenders,' she said, 'fear would be impossible, even if the blood of the veriest coward ran in her veins instead of that of a hero.' Whereat they gave still louder cheers, and vowed that they would spend every drop of their blood to defend her if need were. Then the earl treated them to a little harangue. 'He knew they meant what they said,' he told them, 'for he had seen them fight, not only from behind stone walls, but hand to hand on the field of Hastings;' and added, 'that he was glad he knew their metal, for perhaps it would be rung sooner than they looked for.' An announcement received with vociferous delight by the wild men of war, who scarce thought life worth living in time of peace, and looked to the giving and taking of shrewd blows both for amusement and fortune, caring little in what cause they were bestowed. While this took place, Eadgyth had turned her eyes to the south-east, the old portion of the town looking over to the Thorpe marshes, where the bright Mary buds 'had oped their golden eyes,' and the willows were white with catkins, and the Thorpe woods were in their fresh verdure. An overwhelming sense of desolation came upon her as she marked the old familiar objects among which her childhood had been passed--and more forcibly as she noted the absence of others. She drew her veil across her face, lest it should be seen that she was weeping. The cavalcade moved on again, Sir Hoël riding by the earl's side. They passed into the northern end of King Street, and so to the ancient palace of the East Anglian earls, which stood where the St. Ethelbert Gate is now, and had a chapel dedicated to that saint, who had been a king of the East Angles. He was murdered by Offa, King of Mercia, at the instigation of his wife Quendrida. The head of the victimised prince rolled down as his body was being carried away; a blind man stumbled over it, and, accidentally touching his eyeballs with the blood, received his sight again. A well sprang up where the head fell. So runs the legend. At the palace they were received by a gaily-clad host of servants and retainers. Brave squires and smart pages, portly bursar and anxious steward, cellarers, cooks, and scullions; stately dames and pretty bower-maidens, tirewomen, dairy and grinding-maids (for in those days windmills had not been invented, so 'woman's sphere' included the grinding of flour in a hand-mill),--these, and many more, stood waiting in order of their rank, and dressed in their bravest apparel.