CHAPTER V.
The Duke of the Normans was in the forest, or park land, of Rouvray,
and his Quens and his knights stood around him, expecting some new
proof of his strength and his skill with the bow. For the Duke was
trying some arrows, a weapon he was ever employed in seeking to
improve; sometimes shortening, sometimes lengthening, the shaft; and
suiting the wing of the feather, and the weight of the point, to the
nicest refinement in the law of mechanics. Gay and debonnair, in the
brisk fresh air of the frosty winter, the great Count jested and
laughed as the squires fastened a live bird by the string to a stake
in the distant sward; and "Pardex," said Duke William, "Conan of
Bretagne, and Philip of France, leave us now so unkindly in peace,
that I trow we shall never again have larger butt for our arrows than
the breast of yon poor plumed trembler."
As the Duke spoke and laughed, all the sere boughs behind him rattled
and cranched, and a horse at full speed came rushing over the hard
rime of the sward. The Duke's smile vanished in the frown of his
pride. "Bold rider and graceless," quoth he, "who thus comes in the
presence of counts and princes?"
Right up to Duke William spurred the rider, and then leaped from his
steed; vest and mantle, yet more rich than the Duke's, all tattered
and soiled. No knee bent the rider, no cap did he doff; but seizing
the startled Norman with the gripe of a hand as strong as his own, he
led him aside from the courtiers, and said:
"Thou knowest me, William? though not thus alone should I come to thy
court, if I did not bring thee a crown."
"Welcome, brave Tostig!" said the Duke, marvelling. "What meanest
thou? nought but good, by thy words and thy smile."
"Edward sleeps with the dead!--and Harold is King of all England!"
"King!--England!--King!" faltered William, stammering in his
agitation. "Edward dead!--Saints rest him! England then is mine!
King!--I am the King! Harold hath sworn it; my Quens and prelates
heard him; the bones of the saints attest the oath!"
"Somewhat of this have I vaguely learned from our beau-pere Count
Baldwin; more will I learn at thy leisure; but take meanwhile, my word
as Miles and Saxon,--never, while there is breath on his lips, or one
beat in his heart, will my brother, Lord Harold, give an inch of
English land to the Norman."
William turned pale and faint with emotion, and leant for support
against a leafless oak.
Busy were the rumours, and anxious the watch, of the Quens and
knights, as their Prince stood long in the distant glade, conferring
with the rider, whom one or two of them had recognised as Tostig, the
spouse of Matilda's sister.
At length, side by side, still talking earnestly, they regained the
group; and William, summoning the Lord of Tancarville, bade him
conduct Tostig to Rouen, the towers of which rose through the forest
trees. "Rest and refresh thee, noble kinsman," said the Duke; "see
and talk with Matilda. I will join thee anon."
The Earl remounted his steed, and saluting the company with a wild and
hasty grace, soon vanished amidst the groves.
Then William, seating himself on the sward, mechanically unstrung his
bow, sighing oft, and oft frowning; and--without vouchsafing other
word to his lords than "No further sport to-day!" rose slowly, and
went alone through the thickest parts of the forest. But his faithful
Fitzosborne marked his gloom, and fondly followed him. The Duke
arrived at the borders of the Seine, where his galley waited him. He
entered, sat down on the bench, and took no notice of Fitzosborne, who
quietly stepped in after his lord, and placed himself on another
bench.
The little voyage to Rouen was performed in silence, and as soon as he
had gained his palace, without seeking either Tostig or Matilda, the
Duke turned into the vast hall, in which he was wont to hold council
with his barons; and walked to and fro "often," say the chronicles,
"changing posture and attitude, and oft loosening and tightening, and
drawing into knots, the strings of his mantle."
Fitzosborne, meanwhile, had sought the ex-Earl, who was closeted with
Matilda; and now returning, he went boldly up to the Duke, whom no one
else dared approach, and said:
"Why, my liege, seek to conceal what is already known--what ere the
eve will be in the mouths of all? You are troubled that Edward is
dead, and that Harold, violating his oath, has seized the English
realm."
"Truly," said the Duke mildly, and with the tone of a meek man much
injured; "my dear cousin's death, and the wrongs I have received from
Harold, touch me nearly."
Then said Fitzosborne, with that philosophy, half grave as became the
Scandinavian, half gay as became the Frank: "No man should grieve for
what he can help--still less for what he cannot help. For Edward's
death, I trow, remedy there is none; but for Harold's treason, yea!
Have you not a noble host of knights and warriors? What want you to
destroy the Saxon and seize his realm? What but a bold heart? A
great deed once well begun, is half done. Begin, Count of the
Normans, and we will complete the rest."
Starting from his sorely tasked dissimulation; for all William needed,
and all of which he doubted, was the aid of his haughty barons; the
Duke raised his head, and his eyes shone out.
"Ha, sayest thou so! then, by the Splendour of God, we will do this
deed. Haste thou--rouse hearts, nerve hands--promise, menace, win!
Broad are the lands of England, and generous a conqueror's hand. Go
and prepare all my faithful lords for a council, nobler than ever yet
stirred the hearts and strung the hands of the sons of Rou."
