s to roll down on a marching army, the place
well defies storm and assault; and a hundred on the height would
overmatch thousands below."

He then turned to address a few words, with all the far-famed courtesy of
Norman and Frank, to the Welch guards at the outpost. They were picked
men; the strongest and best armed and best fed of the group. But they
shook their heads and answered not, gazing at him fiercely, and showing
their white teeth, as dogs at a bear before they are loosened from the
band.

"They understand me not, poor languageless savages!" said Mallet de
Graville, turning to the monk, who stood by with the lifted rood; "speak
to them in their own jargon."

"Nay," said the Welch monk, who, though of a rival tribe from South
Wales, and at the service of Harold, was esteemed throughout the land for
piety and learning, "they will not open mouth till the King's orders come
to receive or dismiss us unheard."

"Dismiss us unheard!" repeated the punctilious Norman; "even this poor
barbarous King can scarcely be so strange to all comely and gentle usage,
as to put such insult on Guillaume Mallet de Graville. But," added the
knight, colouring, "I forgot that he is not advised of my name and land;
and, indeed, sith thou art to be spokesman, I marvel why Harold should
have prayed my service at all, at the risk of subjecting a Norman knight
to affronts contumelious."

"Peradventure," replied Evan, "peradventure thou hast something to
whisper apart to the King, which, as stranger and warrior, none will
venture to question; but which from me, as countryman and priest, would
excite the jealous suspicions of those around him."

"I conceive thee," said De Graville. "And see, spears are gleaming down
the path; and per pedes Domini, yon chief with the mantle, and circlet of
gold on his head, is the cat-king that so spitted and scratched in the
melee last night."

"Heed well thy tongue," said Evan, alarmed; "no jests with the leader of
men."

"Knowest thou, good monk, that a facete and most gentil Roman (if the
saintly writer from whom I take the citation reports aright--for, alas! I
know not where myself to purchase, or to steal, one copy of Horatius
Flaccus) hath said 'Dulce est desipere in loco.' It is sweet to jest,
but not within reach of claws, whether of kaisars or cats."

Therewith the knight drew up his spare but stately figure, and arranging
his robe with grace and dignity, awaited the coming chief.

Do