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Englishmen the following weeks passed pleasantly. Ships came frequently

from England with news of what was doing there. William had tarried for

some time at his camp at Hastings, expecting to receive the submission of

all England. But not an Englishman came to bow before him. The Northern

earls had hurried to London as soon as they heard of the defeat at Senlac

and the death of the king and his brothers, and a Witan was instantly

summoned to choose his successor to the throne.

Edwin and Morcar thought that the choice of the nation would surely fall

upon one or other of them, as in rank and position they were now the first

men in the realm. They exerted themselves to the utmost to bring this

about, but no true-hearted Englishman could forgive either their acceptance

of Harold Hardrada as their king, or the long and treacherous delay that

had left Southern England to stand alone on the day of battle. The choice

of the Witan fell on the young Edgar, the grandson of Edmund Ironside, the

last male survivor of the royal blood. Edgar, however, was never crowned,

as that ceremony could only take place at one of the festivals of the

church, and it was therefore postponed until Christmas. London was eager

for resistance. Alfred had fought battle after battle against the Danes,

and though without their natural leaders, the people throughout Southern

England looked forward to a long and determined struggle. With the army of

the North as a rallying centre a force more numerous than that which Harold

had led might soon be gathered. But these hopes were dashed to the ground

by the treacherous Northern earls. Had one of them been chosen to sit on

the vacant throne they would doubtless have done their best to maintain

that throne, but they had been passed over, and oblivious of the fact that

it was to the South they owed the rescue of their earldoms from the sway of

the King of Norway and Tostig, they sullenly marched away with their army

and left the South to its fate.

While the cause of England was thus being betrayed and ruined, William was

advancing eastward along the coast ravaging and destroying. Romney was

levelled to the ground and its inhabitants slain. Dover opened its gates.

It is probable that most of the male population had joined Harold, and had

fallen at Senlac; and that the terrible fate of Romney had struck such

terror into the hearts of the inhabitants, who knew there was no army that

could advance to their assistance, that they surrendered at the Conqueror's

approach. To them William behaved with lenity and kindness. His severity at

Romney and his lenity at Dover had their effect. There being no central

authority, no army in the field, each town and district was left to shift

for itself; and assuredly none of them unaided could hope to offer

prolonged resistance to the Normans. As, after eight days' stay at Dover,

William advanced towards Canterbury, he was met by a deputation of the

citizens offering their submission, and soon from all parts of Kent similar

messages came in.

Kent had done its full share in the national defence on the hill near

Hastings, and was not to be blamed if, when all England remained supine and

inactive, its villagers refused to throw away their lives uselessly. The

duke was detained by sickness for a month near Canterbury, and there

received the submission of Kent and Sussex, and also that of the great

ecclesiastical city of Winchester; but the spirit of resistance in London

still burned brightly, and William was indisposed to risk the loss that

would be incurred by an assault upon its walls. He, therefore, moved round

in a wide circle, wasting the land, plundering and destroying, till the

citizens, convinced that resistance could only bring destruction upon

themselves and their city, and in spite of the efforts of their wounded

sheriff, sent an embassy to the duke at Berkhampstead to submit and do

homage to him.

Not London alone was represented by this embassy. The young king, elected

but uncrowned, was with it; two archbishops, two bishops, and many of the

chief men in England accompanied it, and although they were not the

spokesmen of any Witan, they might be said fairly to represent London and

Southern England.

Deserted by the North, without a leader, and seeing their land exposed to

wholesale ravages, the South and West Saxons were scarcely to be blamed for

preferring submission to destruction. They doubtless thought that William,

the wise ruler of Normandy, would make a far better king than the boy they

had chosen, who was himself almost as much a foreigner as William, save

that there was a strain of English royal blood in his veins. So had England

accepted Canute the Dane as her king, and he had ruled as an English

monarch wisely and well.

The embassy offered William the crown. The Norman prelates and priests, who

held so many of the dignities in the English Church, had worked hard to

incline men's minds to this end. Silent while England stood united under

its king to oppose the invader, their tongues were loosed as soon as the

strength of England was broken and its king dead, and they pointed out that

God had clearly designated William as their king by giving him victory and

by destroying alike Harold and his brothers.

William went through the farce of hesitating to accept the offer of the

crown, and held a consultation with his officers as to the answer he should

give. They of course replied that he should accept the offer. William,

therefore, marched with his army to London, where on Christmas-day the same

prelate who had anointed Harold King of England crowned William as his

successor.

A few days later Beorn and Wulf with Osgod, who had now completely

recovered from his wounds, set sail for England. There was no longer any

reason why they should not take their oaths to serve William. He was the

crowned king of England, the accepted of the people, as Harold had been,

and when all Southern England had submitted it was not for them, who had

received special favours at William's hand, to hold back. With them went

Lady de Burg, Guy, and Agnes, with many other Norman ladies on their way to

rejoin their lords in London. Baron de Burg, on the day after their

arrival at Westminster, led the two young thanes to the private apartment

of the king. He received them graciously.

"There are none of your nation," he said, "whose homage I more gladly

accept. You fought valiantly before under my banner, and will, I am sure,

be ready to do so again should occasion arise. I am thankful to my Lord de

Burg that he interposed in my name and saved your lives. I have not

forgotten the other part of my promise, and have this morning ordered my

justiciar to add to your estates forfeited lands adjoining."

Beorn and Wulf had previously talked the matter over. Their own

inclinations would have led them to refuse the offer, but as it was certain

that all the land forfeited to the crown by the death of its holders in

battle would be apportioned among William's Norman followers, they thought

that it would be wholly for the benefit both of the families of the late

thanes and for their tenants and people that they should accept any estate

William might bestow on them. They, therefore, thanked the duke in

suitable terms, and at once took the oaths for the lands he might be

pleased to bestow on them. A week later they received the formal deeds,

which in both cases more than doubled the estates they before possessed.

The same evening Lord de Burg said to Wulf, who had tarried in London,

while Beorn had at once set out for Fareham: "I think the time has come,

Wulf, when I can speak of a subject that has been in my thoughts for a long

time, and which, although you have not spoken, has, as my wife and I have

both seen, been dear to you. Normandy and England are now one, and we are

vassals of the same king. As long as there was a probability that

Englishmen and Normans might again be ranged in battle against each other,

it was not expedient that aught should be done in the matter, but, now this

obstacle is removed, I can offer you the alliance on which I am sure your

heart is set, and give you the hand of my daughter in marriage."

"It is the greatest wish of my life," Wulf replied gratefully. "I should

have asked you for her hand before had it not been for the position of

public affairs. I love her dearly, though I have until now abstained from

speaking; and yet I would not wed her unless her heart went freely with her

hand."

"I think not that she will be disobedient to my wishes," De Burg said

smiling. "She has proved deaf to all her Norman suitors, and although among

them were some whom few maidens would have said no to, her mother and I had

no wish to force her inclinations, especially as we both shrewdly suspected

where her heart had been bestowed. This alliance, too, has long been the

dearest wish of Guy. On the bed of sickness where he lay so long, and from

which it seemed at one time that he would never rise, he often spoke to me

of it. He was fondly attached to his sister, and again and again said that

he wished of all things that you should some day become her husband, as he

was sure her happiness would be safe with you, and that you would worthily

fill his place to us, and would, when the time came, rule nobly over the

lands of De Burg."

"God forbid that that should ever be the case," Wulf said earnestly. "I

trust that Guy will live long, and that he will marry and leave descendants

to follow him."

The baron shook his head sadly. "Guy is better," he said, "but he is still

weak and fragile, and the leeches tell me that a rough winter or an illness

that would be nought to others might carry him off. I have small hopes that

he will ever marry. I am sure that no such thought is in his mind. He is as

eager now as he was four years ago that you should be a son to us, and a

husband to Agnes. He has also earnestly expressed the wish, in which I also

join, that you should take our name. You English have no family names, but

that will come with other Norman customs, and marrying a De Burg it would

seem natural that you should yourself become Wulf de Burg."

"I should feel it a high honour. There is no more noble name in Normandy,

and I trust I may prove worthy of bearing it."

"That I have no fear of, Wulf, else I should not have offered you the hand

of my daughter. I will bring my wife and Guy in. I have offered you the

hand of Agnes, but it is right that you should ask her mother's consent,

although beforehand assured of it."

He left the room, and soon returned with Lady de Burg and Guy.

"My lord has told me," she said, before Wulf could speak, "that you would

ask my consent to your marriage with Agnes. I give it you unasked, freely

and gladly. I have but one regret--that the seas will divide us."

"Not so," the baron said; "William's court will be held in London, and for

years he will reside here far more than in Normandy, and will expect his

nobles to be frequently with him. I certainly shall not come alone, and you

will therefore have as many opportunities of seeing Agnes as if she were

married to a Norman whose estates did not lie near our own."

"I thank you most deeply, Lady de Burg, for the confidence which you show

in intrusting your daughter's happiness to me. I swear that with all my

might and power I will strive to make her happy, and will spare her to

visit you in Normandy whensoever you may wish it."

Guy came forward now and grasped Wulf's hand.

"How I have longed for this time, my brother," he said. "How I have hoped

that I might at least live long enough to know that the dearest wish of my

heart would be gratified. I can go hence now right willingly when God calls

me, knowing that my father and mother have another son to fill my place,

and that the happiness of my sister is secured."

"And now, wife, will you fetch Agnes from her chamber," the baron said.

In two or three minutes the baroness returned, leading Agnes, to whom she

had told the reason of her summons. The baron stepped forward and took her

hand.

"My daughter," he said, "the Thane of Steyning has asked for your hand in

marriage, and your mother and I have given our free and full consent, but

he would fain know from your own lips that you will come to him willingly."

"I have loved you, Agnes, since while still but a boy I first saw you, and

my love has grown ever since. The happiness of my life depends upon your

answer, but unless your heart goes with your hand I would rather remain

unmarried to my dying day."

The girl had stood with downcast eyes and with flushed face until now. When

Wulf ceased speaking she looked up into his face:

"I love you, Wulf; I have always loved you. It is for your sake that I have

said no to the suitors of my own race who have sought my hand. I will be a

true wife and loving to you."

"Then take her, Wulf," the baron said, placing her hand in his. "You are

now her betrothed husband and our adopted son."

Wulf stooped and kissed the girl's lips, and the betrothal was completed.

After some talk it was arranged that Wulf should at once journey down to

Steyning, assume possession of his new estates, set the house in order, and

prepare for their coming. Guy was to accompany him, and as soon as all was

in readiness Wulf would come up to London and return with Lord and Lady de

Burg and Agnes, who would pay a short visit and all would then cross to

Normandy, for the marriage was to take place at their chateau there.

"I was sure how it would be," Osgod said when Wulf told him the news that

night. "I should have been blind indeed if I had not seen it long ago. I

love not the Normans, but I make exception in the case of Lord de Burg and

his family. And truly it will in all respects be a good thing for your

tenants. Although the duke, or I suppose I ought to say the king, promises