had clean fallen out of my mind to tell you,
Lord Sebert," Morcard spoke up hastily. "Yesterday, before you had got
in from hunting, Kendred of Hazelford came, as spokesman for the rest,
to say that inasmuch as the Barn Month is well begun, it will not be
possible for them to labor more upon the building; and, by your leave,
they will put off this, which is not pressing, until after the time of
the harvest."

It was several moments before the Etheling spoke, and then his voice was
noticeably deliberate. "Oh!" he said, "so they ask my leave, but stop at
their pleasure?"

"My lord!"--the old man looked at him in surprise--"they act only
according to custom. Surely you would not have them neglect the harvest,
which waits no man's leisure, to put to their hands as laborers when
there is no present need, now that they have completed the barriers by
the stream? What present harm because the drain off the hill has rotted
the palisade? All of that part is toward the forest. How? Do you expect
some Grendel of the March to fall upon us from that direction?"

The Etheling smiled against his will. "Our foe would needs be a Grendel
to reach us from that side." He struck the wand sharply against his
riding-boots. "Oh, it is not that I think the work so pressing."

"In the Fiend's name, what then is the cause of your distemper?" Father
Ingulph inquired impatiently, as he finished the girding-up of his robes
and picked up his staff preparatory to setting forth.

After a moment, the young noble began to laugh. "Why, to tell it
frankly, methinks it is more temper than distemper. That they should
take it upon them to decide how much of my order is necessary--" He let
a pause finish for him, and suddenly he turned with a flourish of gay
defiance: "I will tell you how I am going to spend my morning, Morcard.
I am going to ride over every acre that is under my hand and see how
much I can spare for loan-land. And when I have found out, I will rent
every furlong to boors who shall be bound to pay me service, not when it
best pleases them, but whensoever I stand in need of it."

Rubbing his chin, the monk heard him in silence; but the old warrior
grew momentarily grave. "Take care that you seem not over proud, young
lord. It is in such a mood that Edmund creates thanes."

It may be that the Etheling's eyes widened for an instant, but directly
after he laughed with gay perverseness. "Is it?" he said. "Then, for the
first time in six weeks