us in the hut. Yes, he sat on the straw
like an eagle ruffled in her feathers, his yellow eyes rolling above
the cup, and he pounced in his talk like an eagle, swooping from one
thing to another, but always binding fast. Yes; he would lie still
awhile, and then rustle in the straw, and speak sometimes as though he
were King William himself, and anon he would speak in parables and
tales, and if at once we saw not his meaning he would yerk us in the
ribs with his scabbarded sword.

"'Look you, boys," said he, "I am born out of my due time. Five
hundred years ago I would have made all England such an England as
neither Dane, Saxon, nor Norman should have conquered. Five hundred
years hence I should have been such a counsellor to Kings as the world
hath never dreamed of. 'Tis all here," said he, tapping his big head,
"but it hath no play in this black age. Now Hugh here is a better man
than thou art, Richard." He had made his voice harsh and croaking, like
a raven's.

"'Truth," said I. "But for Hugh, his help and patience and
long-suffering, I could never have kept the Manor."

"'Nor thy life either," said De Aquila. "Hugh has saved thee not once,
but a hundred times. Be still, Hugh!" he said. "Dost thou know,
Richard, why Hugh slept, and why he still sleeps, among thy Norman
men-at-arms?"

"'To be near me," said I, for I thought this was truth.

"'Fool!" said De Aquila. "It is because his Saxons have begged him to
rise against thee, and to sweep every Norman out of the valley. No
matter how I know. It is truth. Therefore Hugh hath made himself an
hostage for thy life, well knowing that if any harm befell thee from
his Saxons thy Normans would slay him without remedy. And this his
Saxons know. Is it true, Hugh?"

"'In some sort," said Hugh shamefacedly; "at least, it was true half a
year ago. My Saxons would not harm Richard now. I think they know
him--but I judged it best to make sure."

'Look, children, what that man had done--and I had never guessed it!
Night after night had he lain down among my men-at-arms, knowing that
if one Saxon had lifted knife against me, his life would have answered
for mine.

"'Yes," said De Aquila. "And he is a swordless man." He pointed to
Hugh's belt, for Hugh had put away his sword--did I tell you?---the day
after it flew from his hand at Santlache. He carried only the short
knife and the long-bow. "Swordless and landless art thou, Hugh; and
they call thee ki