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about three in the afternoon, and the fight had been raging for six hours,

but though thus outflanked and the order of their battle destroyed, the

veterans of Harold showed neither alarm nor discouragement. Their formation

was changed, the shield-wall still faced the Normans, and for a time every

effort to break it failed.

In vain the Norman cavalry charged down upon it, in vain their duke plied

his terrible mace. Occasionally men worn out by the long defensive battle

sprang from the English ranks and engaged knight or baron hand to hand. All

along the line such single-handed conflicts were going on, and the roar of

battle was as loud and fierce as at the beginning of the day. So for three

more hours the fight went on; with diminishing numbers, but with

undiminished bravery the English still held their ground, and as twilight

was now closing in, it seemed as if they would maintain it till nightfall.

Then William ordered up his archers again, bade them shoot their arrows

high into the air, so that they should fall among the king and his thanes

grouped round the standard.

The effect was terrible. Through helm and shoulder-guard the arrows made

their way; the soldiers held their shields above their heads, but the

thanes had no such protection. Harold glanced up for a moment, and as if

directed by the hand of fate an arrow struck him full in the eye, and he

fell prostrate as if struck by a thunderbolt. A cry of horror and dismay

burst from the thanes around him, but there was no time for the indulgence

of grief. The Normans too had seen the king fall, and with shouts of

triumph a body of knights tried to force their way in to take possession of

his body. But so long as an Englishman could swing axe this was not to be,

and the assault was repulsed as others had been before. Nor, when the news

of Harold's fall spread, did the brave housecarls lose heart, but sternly

and obstinately as ever held together.

At last the Normans burst in at the centre, each baron and knight striving

to be the first to pluck down the standards, the one the king's own

cognizance, the other the national banner, that waved side by side. One

after another the thanes were smitten down. Not one asked for quarter, not

one turned his back upon the foe.

Beorn and Wulf had, through the long fight, stood side by side, and the

watchfulness with which they guarded each other had carried them so far

unharmed through it.

"It is all over now, Beorn," Wulf said. "But it is not hard to die, for

with Harold the cause of England is lost."

"At any rate we will sell our lives dearly," Beorn said, as he struck a

Norman knight from his horse. But they were the last defenders of the

standards, and the end was at hand. Blows rained down upon them. Beorn was

beaten on to one knee; Wulf was so exhausted by his exertions that he could

scarce swing his axe, when a Norman baron pressed his horse through the

throng, and springing to the ground held his sword aloft and shouted:

"Stand back! stand back! these two men hold the duke's solemn pledge for

their lives!" Some of the others still pressed on, but he shouted again:

"Whoever strikes at them strikes at me!"

There was still hesitation, so furious were the Normans at the resistance

they had met with and the tremendous losses they had suffered. But another

baron exclaimed, "De Burg is right! I heard the pledge given, and so did

many of you. This is the young Saxon who saved the duke's camp from the

attack by the Bretons, and bore the brunt of their assault till we had time

to arm. The other brought with him the news that Harold was wrecked." The

words were decisive, and the Normans turned aside their horses to attack

other foes.

"Thank God I arrived in time, Wulf," Baron de Burg said. "I knew you would

be near the standard, but I was fighting elsewhere when the news reached me

that the line was broken and the standard on the point of capture. Are you

badly hurt, Beorn?"

"I am dizzy and faint," Beorn, who had risen to his feet, replied

unsteadily, "but I think not badly wounded."

"Walk by me one on each side holding my stirrup-leathers. I would place

you on my horse, but it were best that I myself should be seen."

He removed his helmet, and bareheaded moved off with the young thanes

walking beside him. Many Normans stopped as he made his way down the hill,

but to their questions he replied, "The duke has himself guaranteed the

safety of these thanes," and as he was well known to stand high in the

duke's favour his word was at once accepted.

In the meantime Harold's standard, whose emblem was a fighting man, and the

golden dragon, the national banner, had been carried off in triumph. Four

of the Normans whose names were long held in infamy by the English

discovered the body of the dying king, for it is said that he still

breathed. One of these was Eustace of Boulogne, the only man in the two

armies who had during the engagement shown signs of craven fear. Another

was the son of that Count of Ponthieu, who had once held Harold prisoner.

The others were Gifford and Montfort. One ran his spear through Harold's

breast, another struck off his head with his sword, a third pierced the

dead body, while the fourth further insulted the dead hero by cutting off

one of his legs--an action, however, which William when he heard of it

pronounced to be shameful, and expelled its perpetrator from the army.

But though the king was dead and the standard lost, the survivors of the

housecarls still fought on until darkness fell. The levies had fled just

before, hotly pursued by the Norman horse. Knowing the ground well the

light-armed footmen fled across a bog, and in the fast-gathering darkness

their pursuers did not notice the nature of the ground, but galloping on

plunged into the morass, where great numbers of them perished miserably,

either suffocated in the mud or slain by the English, who turned and fell

upon them with axe and spear as soon as they saw their plight. So great was

the slaughter, that those who had reined up their horses in time were

stricken with horror even after all the carnage they had witnessed on the

field of battle.

With darkness the battle came to an end. Few indeed of the housecarls drew

off under cover of the darkness; their force being almost annihilated. With

them had perished almost the whole of the thanes of the South of England

and East Anglia. The Sheriff of London had been carried off desperately

wounded by a few of his friends, but with this exception none of Harold's

companions and thanes left the field alive while daylight lasted. A few

only the next morning were found breathing among the mass of dead, and some

of these survived and returned at last to their homes: for William,

satisfied with the complete victory he had gained, issued orders that all

found alive on the field were to be well treated. He felt that he was now

King of England, and that clemency was his best policy. Permission was

given to the women who flocked in from the country round, to search for the

bodies of their friends and to remove them for burial He also commanded a

search to be made for the body of Harold, but during the night, while the

exhausted soldiers slept heavily after their labours, the camp-followers

had been busy with the work of plunder, busiest round the spot where the

standards had stood, for here were stores of gold bracelets and rings, the

emblems of authority of the thanes, to be collected, and rich garments to

be carried off. Thus then, the heaps of corpses that marked the spot where

the fighting had all day been heaviest, were unrecognizable, so terrible

had been the wounds dealt by sword, battle-axe, and mace.

De Burg had kept Wulf and Beorn with him all night, and they had lain down

and slept together. In the morning he committed them to the charge of some

of his personal followers, while he went to the duke to inform him of what

he had done.

"Thank you, De Burg," William said; "they are two brave young fellows. I

marked them in the fight more than once when I was near the standard, and I

should have grieved if ill had befallen them, for they did me loyal

service. I had given my word that they should retain their estates in case

I ever came to the throne here. I know not what to do with them. Were I to

let them go now, they would assuredly take part in any further resistance

that the English may offer to me. I will not ask them now to swear

allegiance to me, for fresh from the battle where they have lost so many

friends and the earl they loved so loyally, they would assuredly refuse."

"If you will grant me a short leave I will take ship back to Normandy and

place them in the care of my wife, where they can remain until matters have

settled down here."

"It is a good idea, De Burg; do so without delay. Methinks that after

yesterday there will be no real resistance offered to me. Harold and his

brothers and all the leading thanes lie dead. There is no one left to lead

the people or organize a resistance, therefore I can spare you for a time."

Thanking the duke, De Burg returned to his captives and told them what had

been arranged.

"We owe you our heartiest thanks, Lord de Burg, for your kindness," Beorn

said. "Assuredly so long as England resists we will not acknowledge William

of Normandy as king, but when resistance ceases, we will of course take the

oath to him if only for the sake of our people; partial risings could but

bring down his vengeance and cause suffering and ruin to all concerned.

Therefore, we gratefully accept your offer, but first of all we beg you to

let us go to the spot where our housecarls fought. You remember Wulf's man,

Osgod?"

"That do I indeed," De Burg replied. "The great fellow who fought by his

side that night against the Bretons, and saved my son's life. Was he

there?"

"He was," Wulf said, "though greatly against my wishes; for he had lost an

arm in the fight at Stamford Bridge, and though it is little more than a

fortnight since, he had himself carried down here, contrary to my orders,

and insisted upon joining in the battle. I would fain search for his body

and give him burial."

"I will come with you at once," the Norman said, "I too owe him a debt of

gratitude."

The housecarls of Steyning had fallen to a man where they stood, and among

them after some searching they came upon the body of Osgod, distinguished

alike by its bulk and the loss of an arm. His axe lay with a broken shaft

by his side. His helmet was cleft asunder, and his face covered with

blood.

"His body is yet warm," Wulf said, as he lifted his arm. "I believe he

still lives."

De Burg called upon two Norman soldiers near to aid, and with their

assistance Wulf and Beorn carried Osgod down to the stream, where they

washed the blood from his face and bathed the wound in his head.

"He is certainly alive," Beorn said. "Doubtless he was stunned by the blow,

and has remained unconscious from the loss of blood."

De Burg sent for a flask of wine, and a little of this was poured through

Osgod's lips. Presently there was a deep sigh and a slight motion of the

figure, and then Osgod opened his eyes.

At first he seemed bewildered, but as his eyes fell on Wulf a look of

pleasure came into them, and he smiled faintly.

"I am alive, Osgod, and glad indeed to find that you are also. Beorn has

also escaped. Take a draught of wine; you have lost a lot of blood and had

none to spare."

They lifted him into a sitting position, and held the cup to his lips while

he drank a long draught.

"That is better," he murmured. "I can feel it going through my veins. I

shall be able to wield an axe yet again. This comes of fighting with a

weapon you don't know. The shaft broke as I was guarding my head, and I

don't remember anything after."

"It saved your life though, Osgod, for it broke the force of the blow which

would otherwise have cleft your skull. As it is, it has not gone very deep,

and the blood you have lost has run chiefly from a wound on your left

shoulder."

"How is it that you are here?" Osgod asked, looking round at the Normans.

"We are prisoners, though we have not surrendered," Wulf replied. "We were

saved by our good friend Lord de Burg, who has joined us in our search for

you. We are to be taken to Normandy as prisoners, and to remain in charge

of Lady de Burg."

"You shall go too, Osgod," De Burg said. "You will find it hard to be

nursed here, and my wife will see that your wounds are well cared for. Your

master will stay with you for the present, for I have matters to see about

before we start for the coast."

In half an hour he returned. "I have to ask you to perform a last service

to your dead king," he said. "The bodies of Gurth and Leofwin have been

found and borne away by your people for burial, but none can find the body

of Harold. All the dead that were near the standard were removed last

night by the soldiers, and among the great pile of dead none can recognize

that of your king."

Well as they knew him, Wulf and Beorn were unable to recognize the body of

Harold among the ghastly heap of mutilated corpses. After a time Wulf said:

"There is one who might recognize it when all others failed. It is Edith,

whom he so long loved as his wife. She may recognize it by some mark or

sign unknown to others. If you will give me leave I will ride to Lewes,

where she is staying, and bring her hither."

"Certainly, Wulf; I will obtain a safe conduct for you from the duke."

Wulf had ridden, however, but a mile along the western road when he saw a

litter approaching borne by four men. He reined in his horse by its side.

An order was given from within, and as the bearers lowered it to the ground

Edith stepped out. She was deadly pale. Her eyes were red with weeping, and