a cousin of
mine, Hugo de Magnaville, a brave lance and franc-rider, chanced to
murder his brother in a little domestic affray, and, being of conscience
tender and nice, the deed preyed on him, and he gave his lands to Odo of
Bayeux, and set off to Jerusalem. There, having prayed at the tomb,"
(the knight crossed himself,) "he felt at once miraculously cheered and
relieved; but, journeying back, mishaps befell him. He was made slave by
some infidel, to one of whose wives he sought to be gallant, par amours,
and only escaped at last by setting fire to paynim and prison. Now, by
the aid of the Virgin, he has got back to Rouen, and holds his own land
again in fief from proud Odo, as a knight of the bishop's. It so
happened that, passing homeward through Lycia, before these misfortunes
befell him, he made friends with a fellow-pilgrim who had just returned,
like himself, from the Sepulchre, but not lightened, like him, of the
load of his crime. This poor palmer lay broken-hearted and dying in the
hut of an eremite, where my cousin took shelter; and, learning that Hugo
was on his way to Normandy, he made himself known as Sweyn, the once fair
and proud Earl of England, eldest son to old Godwin, and father to Haco,
whom our Count still holds as a hostage. He besought Hugo to intercede
with the Count for Haco's release and return, if King Edward assented
thereto; and charged my cousin, moreover, with a letter to Harold, his
brother, which Hugo undertook to send over. By good luck, it so chanced
that, through all his sore trials, cousin Hugo kept safe round his neck a
leaden effigy of the Virgin. The infidels disdained to rob him of lead,
little dreaming the worth which the sanctity gave to the metal. To the
back of the image Hugo fastened the letter, and so, though somewhat
tattered and damaged, he had it still with him on arriving in Rouen."

"Knowing, then, my grace with the Count, and not, despite absolution and
pilgrimage, much wishing to trust himself in the presence of William, who
thinks gravely of fratricide, he prayed me to deliver the message, and
ask leave to send to England the letter."

"It is a long tale," quoth the abbot.

"Patience, my father! I am nearly at the end. Nothing more in season
could chance for my fortunes. Know that William has been long moody and
anxious as to matters in England. The secret accounts he receives from
the Bishop of London make him see that Edward's heart is much alienat