from heaven.'

A shower of arrows fell upon the heads and shoulders of the English,
killing and wounding many a brave fighter.

The battle had lasted since early morning; and just as the sun went
down an arrow pierced Harold's right eye.

The king dropped his battle-axe, and fell forward with a short, sharp
cry of pain.

[Illustration: The Death of Harold.]

Twenty Norman knights rushed forward, seized the standard, and dealt
Harold a mortal blow as he lay beside the dead bodies of his two
brothers.

The English, having lost their leader, left the field fighting to the
last, and then scattered over the country to carry far and wide the
ill-tidings that King Harold was slain and the Norman master of England.

All was quiet when the moon rose over the hill where the Golden Dragon
had been hauled down and the sacred banner of the Normans raised in its
stead. The ground having been hastily cleared, William's tent was
pitched upon the spot where Harold and his brothers had made their last
stand, and the duke slept there all night.

The next day was a Sunday, and as the bells tinkled mournfully in the
churches, Englishwomen came flocking to the field of battle, with pale
faces and eyes red with weeping, to beg leave to look for their
husbands and brothers and sons among the slain. Among them was the
mother of Harold, offering William its weight in gold for the body of
her son.

The conqueror gave her leave to search, and for a long time the noble
English lady wandered over the battle-field, seeking vainly among the
dead.

Then came Aldwyth, Harold's wife; but she too, was unable to find the
body of her husband.

Last of all came Edith of the Swan's Neck, whom Harold had loved; and
she sought long for the body.

At last she came to a corpse that was lying upon a heap of dead,
disfigured with so many wounds that only she could have known it.

'That is Harold,' she said.

William gave orders that the last of the English kings should be buried
upon the cliffs that guard the shores of England, and a heap of stones
raised upon it.

'Let him lie there,' he said; 'he kept the shore manfully while he
lived; let him stay and guard it ever, now he is dead.'

CHAPTER IV

THE BOY WHO WOULD BE A KING

The Norman King of England, a descendant of William the Conqueror,
having died without leaving any children, his brother John made himself
king.

John was a very bad man; and he was both mean and cowardly.