rmandy as a hostage many years before. Each day was made a
festival; the duke held tournaments in honour of his guest, and went
hunting and hawking with him; and the Englishman showed such skill in
all manly exercises that William learned to respect him more and more.

One day something happened which made him feel more than ever what a
pity it was that this man must one day become his enemy.

Harold was walking on the sea-shore with his brother and the duke and a
train of nobles, when several of the knights became caught in a
quicksand and would have been lost had not Harold rushed forward, and
with his unaided strength dragged each one of them into safety upon
firm ground.

The duke said to himself that the short, sturdy Englishman was the
bravest knight he had ever seen, and the one best fitted to become a
king. Yet all the time that he was outwardly showing the greatest
friendship for his guest he was secretly making plans by which he might
compel Harold to help him to become King of England.

One day he asked Harold whether he knew that King Edward had promised
that he should succeed him on the throne.

'No,' replied Harold quietly; 'I did not know that.'

The duke put his band upon the Englishman's shoulder.

'It is an old promise,' he said, 'and for many years I have looked upon
myself as the future King of England.'

'Listen to me,' he added hastily, as he saw that Harold was about to
speak: 'I like you, and you are the man of all the English whom I most
wish to have on my side. If you will give me your word of honour that
you will help me to the crown, I promise that you shall be the greatest
man in the kingdom next to myself; and not only that, but you shall be
my son-in-law; I will give you my daughter Adela for your wife.--Now is
it a bargain, son-in-law Harold?'

'No,' said Harold quietly and firmly; 'it cannot be. I cannot marry
your daughter, because I already love a lady in England, Edith, a ward
of the king; and you will never with my consent become King of England,
because the English people have the right of choosing their own king;
and we will never willingly have a Norman to rule over us. If King
Edward made you any such promise he did very wrongly, for the crown of
England is not his to give away.'

Duke William was silent, and his eyes blazed with anger, as they always
did when his will was crossed.

'So be it,' he said, when he had regained sufficient mastery over
himself to be