t sword.

'That's it,' Dan whispered to Una.

'This is the sword that Brother Hugh had from Wayland-Smith,' Sir Richard
said. 'Once he gave it to me, but I would not take it; but at the last it
became mine after such a fight as never christened man fought. See!' He
half drew it from its sheath and turned it before them. On either side
just below the handle, where the Runic letters shivered as though they
were alive, were two deep gouges in the dull, deadly steel. 'Now, what
Thing made those?' said he. 'I know not, but you, perhaps, can say.'

'Tell them all the tale, Sir Richard,' said Puck. 'It concerns their land
somewhat.'

'Yes, from the very beginning,' Una pleaded, for the knight's good face
and the smile on it more than ever reminded her of 'Sir Isumbras at the
Ford.'

They settled down to listen, Sir Richard bare-headed to the sunshine,
dandling the sword in both hands, while the grey horse cropped outside the
Ring, and the helmet on the saddle-bow clinged softly each time he jerked
his head.

'From the beginning, then,' Sir Richard said, 'since it concerns your
land, I will tell the tale. When our Duke came out of Normandy to take his
England, great knights (have ye heard?) came and strove hard to serve the
Duke, because he promised them lands here, and small knights followed the
great ones. My folk in Normandy were poor; but a great knight, Engerrard
of the Eagle--Engenulf De Aquila--who was kin to my father, followed the
Earl of Mortain, who followed William the Duke, and I followed De Aquila.
Yes, with thirty men-at-arms out of my father's house and a new sword, I
set out to conquer England three days after I was made knight. I did not
then know that England would conquer me. We went up to Santlache with the
rest--a very great host of us.'

'Does that mean the Battle of Hastings--Ten Sixty-Six?' Una whispered, and
Puck nodded, so as not to interrupt.

'At Santlache, over the hill yonder'--he pointed south-eastward towards
Fairlight--'we found Harold's men. We fought. At the day's end they ran. My
men went with De Aquila's to chase and plunder, and in that chase
Engerrard of the Eagle was slain, and his son Gilbert took his banner and
his men forward. This I did not know till after, for Swallow here was cut
in the flank, so I stayed to wash the wound at a brook by a thorn. There a
single Saxon cried out to me in French, and we fought together. I should
have known his voice, but we fought together. Fo