第 33 页

"Good, my lord. Methinks that Harold was wrong in not sending every Norman

across the seas, and every man with whom I have spoken thinks the same. But

at any rate we can, as you say, keep a sharp look-out, and although I

cannot be always near his person, I shall go about and listen; and it will

be hard if anything is on foot without my hearing some whisper of it. You

will tell him no word of your suspicions, I suppose?"

"Certainly not. I have fears rather than suspicions, and Baron De Burg

certainly spoke as if he regarded it as likely that such an attempt might

be made, and he knows his own people better than I do. He expressly said

that he had no special reason for giving me the warning, but he may have

heard some angry remark or some covert threat against Harold; and although

the duke would not, I feel sure, openly countenance his slaying, I think

that the slayers might confidently look for a reward from his gratitude did

they by their daggers open a way for him to the throne of England."

On the return of the embassy to London King Harold said to Wulf: "I have no

further occasion for your services at present, Wulf, and I suppose you will

return home and increase the number of your housecarls. It is not with

undisciplined levies that the Normans, if they come, must be met. It is no

question this time of Welsh mountaineers but of trained warriors, and

should they land they must be met by men as firm and as obedient to orders

as themselves. I am trying to impress this on all our thanes, but most of

them are hard to move, and deem that all that is necessary on the day of

battle is that men shall have strength and courage and arms."

"With your permission, my lord, I would rather abide near you, and leave

the training of my men to the officer who taught those who fought by my

side in Wales."

"I thought you did not care for the gaieties of the court?" Harold said, in

some surprise.

"Nor do I, my lord. For its gaieties I care nothing, but in times like

these there is much to be learned, and I would not bury myself in Steyning

when there is so much of importance going on in London."

"Then stay, Wulf, I shall be glad to have you here. I have but little time

to myself now, but it is a relief to put aside grave matters sometimes. I

will appoint a room for you near my own chamber. You have heard no news of

her, I suppose?"

"In truth, my lord, I know not how to set about the task, and it seems to

me that my only chance is to run against one of her serving-men in the

street."

"That is but a slight chance, Wulf; but even I, with all the power of

England in my hands, am equally at a loss. I cannot send round to all the

thanes of Wessex to ask if a strange lady has taken a house in their

jurisdiction, nor to all the parish priests to ask if a new worshipper has

come to their church. However, I believe that sooner or later she will

herself advise me where she has hidden. It may be that your stay here will

not be a long one, for I purpose journeying to the North."

"To Northumbria!" Wulf said in surprise.

"Yes; the people there refuse to recognize me, and I would win them by

going among them rather than by force. My dear friend Bishop Wulfstan will

accompany me. I shall take with me a body of my housecarls, partly as a

guard, but more because I cannot now travel as a private person. It is very

many years since an English king has visited Northumbria, and it is not

strange that these northern men should object to be ruled by a stranger

from the South. I shall take with me two or three of my thanes only, but

shall be glad for you to ride with me. Young as you are, you have a quick

eye and ready wit, and in case trouble should arise, I can rely upon you

more than upon many men far older than yourself."

The palace of Westminster was not an imposing edifice. London had not yet

become the capital of England, Oxford being the seat of government of most

of the kings, so that the palace was built on a simple plan, and had been

altered by Edward until the interior arrangements more nearly resembled

those of a convent than of a palace. Below was the great banqueting-hall,

and beyond this the chamber where the king heard complaints and

administered justice. Leading from this were the king and queen's private

chambers, where the one sat and read or received his chief councillors, and

the other worked with her maids, and listened to the music of the harpers

or the tales of war and love sung by bards.

Behind was the chapel. On the floor above a corridor ran from one end of

the building to the doors which separated the royal sleeping-rooms from the

rest. On either side of the corridor were small bed-chambers, where the

officers of the household and guests at the court slept, their attendants

lying in the corridor itself or in the kitchens, which with other offices

were contained in a separate building. The room assigned to Wulf, and which

Harold had ordered was henceforth to be retained for him, was that on the

right hand of the corridor, next to the door leading to the royal

apartments. Like the others it was a mere cell, with the straw pallet

covered with sheep-skins, with some rugs for covering. This constituted the

whole of the furniture. In the morning water was brought in brass ewers and

basins, either by the pages or servants of the guests.

"Nothing could be better, my lord, than this," Osgod said. "I am a light

sleeper, and lying across your door I am sure that no one could enter the

king's apartments without my hearing those heavy doors move."

"There is but little chance, Osgod, of an attack being made on him in that

fashion. Doubtless some of the royal servants sleep on the other side of

the door. No, if any design be attempted against his life it will be when

he is travelling, or when he is abroad amid a crowd."

"I saw Walter Fitz-Urse to-day, master, in the train of William of London."

"Then he must have returned within the last day or two, Osgod, for he has

been absent for more than a year, and I know that when we sailed for

Normandy he was still absent, for I inquired of one of the court officials

if he had been here of late. What should bring him back again, I wonder.

He has long been out of his pageship, and he can hope for no preferment in

England while Harold is king. He has, I know, no great possessions in

Normandy, for I asked Guy about him, and learned that his father was a

knight of but small consideration, either as to his state or character, and

that the boy owed his place as page to William of London, to the fact that

he was a distant relation of the prelate.

"I would say harm of no man, but I should think he is as likely as another

to be mixed up in such a plot as we are talking of. He is landless,

hot-tempered, and ambitious. He owes no goodwill to Harold, for it was by

his intervention that he was sent away in disgrace after that quarrel with

me. At any rate, Osgod, since we have no one else to suspect, we will in

the first place watch him, or rather have him looked after, for I see not

how we ourselves can in any way keep near him. He knows me well, and has

doubtless seen you with me, and having seen you once would not be likely to

forget you."

"I think I can manage that," Osgod said confidently. "My father has a small

apprentice who well-nigh worries his life out with tricks and trifling. I

have more than once begged him off a beating, and methinks he will do

anything for me. He is as full of cunning as an ape, and, I warrant me,

would act his part marvellously. My father will be glad enough to get him

out of the forge for a while, and when I tell him that it is in your

service he will make no difficulty about it. He is fifteen years old, but

so small for his age that he would pass for three years younger than he

is."

"I think it is a very good plan, Osgod. You had best see your father in the

morning, and if he consents to your having the boy, bring him down to the

river-bank behind the abbey, where I will be awaiting you, and can there

talk to him without observation. You are sure that he can be trusted to

keep silence regarding what I tell him?"

"He can be trusted, my lord. In the first place he will enjoy playing his

part, and in the second he will know well enough that I should nearly flay

him alive with my stirrup-leather if he were to fail me, and that his life

in the forge would be worse than ever."

The next morning Wulf strolled down to the river-bank after breaking his

fast, and it was not long before Osgod joined him with the boy.

"Have you told him what he is required for, Osgod?" Wulf asked, as the boy,

doffing his cap, stood before him with an air of extreme humility.

"I am not good at the telling of tales, as you know, my lord, and I thought

it better that you should tell him just as much or as little as you chose."

"You don't like your work at the forge, Ulf?" for that Wulf had learned was

the boy's name.

"I think that I like it better than it likes me," the boy replied. "When I

get to do the fine work I shall like it, but at present it is 'fetch this

tool, Ulf, or file that iron, or blow those bellows,' and if I do but smile

I get a cuff."

"No, no, Ulf," Osgod said. "Of course, at present you are but a beginner,

and at your age I too had to fetch and carry and be at the bidding of all

the men; and it is not for smiling that you get cuffed, but for playing

tricks and being away for hours when you are sent on a message to the next

street, and doing your errands wrongly. My father tells me you will be a

good workman some day. You will never be strong enough to wield a heavy

hammer or to forge a battle-axe, but he says your fingers are quick and

nimble, and that you will some day be able to do fine work such as clumsy

hands could not compass. But that is not to the point now."

"You will be glad to be out of the forge for a bit, Ulf?" Wulf asked.

"That should I, but not always."

"It will not be for very long. I want a watch set upon a Norman in order to

know where he goes, and whom he meets, and what he purposes. Osgod tells me

that he thinks you could play the part rarely, and that you would be

willing for his sake to do our bidding."

The boy looked up into Osgod's face with an expression of earnest

affection.

"I would do anything for him," he said, "even if I were to be cut to

pieces."

"Osgod is as much interested in the matter as I am, Ulf; and as he has

assured me that you are to be trusted, I will tell you more as to the man,

and my object in setting you to watch him."

"You can trust me, my lord," the boy said earnestly. "I will do your

bidding whatever it is."

"You know, Ulf, that the Duke of Normandy desires the crown of England?"

"So I have heard men say, my lord."

"Were King Harold out of the way, his chances of obtaining it would be

improved."

The boy nodded.

"I am sure that the duke himself would take no hand in bringing about

Harold's death, but there are many of his people who might think that they

would obtain a great reward were they to do so."

The boy nodded again.

"The man I wish you to watch is Walter Fitz-Urse, who is in the train of

the bishop. I have no particular reason for suspecting him, beyond the fact

that he has but just come over here, and this is scarcely a time a Norman

would come to London; though as the bishop is a relation and patron of his

he may have come merely to visit him. Still he has, as he thinks, a cause

for enmity against the king. He is needy, and, as I know, somewhat

unscrupulous. All this is little enough against a man; still it seems to me

that his coming bodes danger to the king, and this being so I desire that

he shall be watched, in order that I may find out what is his real object

in coming over here. I want you to post yourself near the gate of the

bishop's palace, and whenever he comes out to follow him save when he is in

the train of the bishop--most of all if he sallies out alone or after dark.

"It will not do for you to be always dressed as an apprentice. Osgod will

procure for you such clothes as you may require for disguises. One day you

can be sitting there as a beggar asking alms, another as a girl from one of

the villages with eggs or fowls. You understand that you will have to

follow him, to mark where he goes in, and especially, should he be joined

by anybody when out, to endeavour to overhear something of what they say to

each other. Even a few words might suffice to show me whether my suspicions

are true or not. Do you think you can do that? Osgod tells me that you are

good at playing a part."

"I will do it, my lord, and that right gladly. It is a business after my

own heart, and I will warrant that those who see me one day will not know

me when they see me the next."

"Osgod will go with you now, and will stay near the bishop's palace until

the man you are to watch comes out, and will point him out to you. In a day

or two I may be going away with the king; when we return you will tell us

what you have found out. Till we go, Osgod will meet you here each morning

as the abbey bell rings out the hour of seven. You can tell him anything

that you have learned, and then he will give you such further instructions

as may seem needful; and remember you must be cautious, for Walter

Fitz-Urse would not hesitate to use his dagger on you did he come upon you

eaves-dropping."

"I will give him leave to do so if he catches me," the boy said.

"Very well, then; Osgod will go with you to buy such clothes as may be

necessary, and remember that you will be well rewarded for your work."

"I want no reward," the boy said, almost indignantly. "I am an apprentice,

and as my master has bid me do whatever Osgod commands, he has a right to