That man broke Harold of Norway
at Stamford Bridge, and came near to breaking us at Santlache--all
within one month."

'"But how did he come alive from Santlache fight?" asked the King. "Ask
him! Hast thou heard it, Rahere?" "Never. He says he has been stoned too
often for telling the tale. But he can count you off Saxon and Norman
shrines till daylight," said Rahere and the old man nodded proudly.

'"My faith!" said Henry after a while. "I think even my Father the Great
Duke would pity if he could see him."

'"How if he does see?" said Rahere.

'Hugh covered his face with his sound hand. "Ah, why hast thou shamed
him?" he cried again to Rahere.

'"No--no," says the old man, reaching to pluck at Rahere's cape. "I am
Rahere's man. None stone me now," and he played with the bells on the
scollops of it.

'"How if he had been brought to me when you found him?" said the King to
Rahere.

'"You would have held him prisoner again--as the Great Duke did," Rahere
answered.

'"True," said our King. "He is nothing except his name. Yet that name
might have been used by stronger men to trouble my England. Yes. I must
have made him my life's guest--as I shall make Robert."

'"I knew it," said Rahere. "But while this man wandered mad by the
wayside, none cared what he called himself."

'"I learned to cease talking before the stones flew," says the old man,
and Hugh groaned.

'"Ye have heard!" said Rahere. "Witless, landless, nameless, and, but
for my protection, masterless, he can still make shift to bide his doom
under the open sky."

'"Then wherefore didst thou bring him here for a mock and a shame?"
cried Hugh, beside himself with woe.

'"A right mock and a just shame!" said William of Exeter.

'"Not to me," said Nigel of Ely. "I see and I tremble, but I neither
mock nor judge." "Well spoken, Ely." Rahere falls into the pure fool
again. "I'll pray for thee when I turn monk. Thou hast given thy
blessing on a war between two most Christian brothers." He meant the war
forward 'twixt Henry and Robert of Normandy. "I charge you, Brother," he
says, wheeling on the King, "dost thou mock my fool?" The King shook his
head, and so then did smooth William of Exeter.

'"De Aquila, does thou mock him?" Rahere jingled from one to another,
and the old man smiled.

'"By the Bones of the Saints, not I," said our Lord of Pevensey. "I know
how dooms near he broke us at Santlache."

'"Sir Hugh, you are excused the question. But