{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_26027/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_26027","id":"gutenberg_26027","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/26027","summary":null,"tags":["Category: British Literature","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Science-Fiction & Fantasy","Great Britain -- History -- Fiction","Nobel Prizes in Literature","Space and time -- Fiction"],"text":"PUCK OF POOK\u2019S HILL\n\n\n                         BOOKS BY RUDYARD KIPLING\n\n          PUCK OF POOK\u2019S HILL\n          THEY\n          TRAFFICS AND DISCOVERIES\n          THE FIVE NATIONS\n          THE JUST SO SONG BOOK\n          JUST SO STORIES\n          KIM\n          STALKY & CO.\n          THE DAY\u2019S WORK\n          THE BRUSHWOOD BOY\n          FROM SEA TO SEA\n          DEPARTMENTAL DITTIES AND BALLADS AND BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS\n          PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS\n          THE LIGHT THAT FAILED\n          LIFE\u2019S HANDICAP: BEING STORIES OF MINE OWN PEOPLE\n          UNDER THE DEODARS, THE PHANTOM \u2019RICKSHAW, AND WEE WILLIE WINKIE\n          SOLDIERS THREE, THE STORY OF THE GADSBYS, AND IN BLACK AND WHITE\n          SOLDIER STORIES\n          THE KIPLING BIRTHDAY BOOK\n          (WITH WOLCOTT BALESTIER) THE NAULAHKA\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  [Illustration: \u2018\u201cGo!\u201d she says. \u201cGo with my Leave an\u2019 Goodwill.\u201d\u2019\n  _See page 247_]\n\n\n\n\n\n                          Puck of Pook\u2019s Hill\n\n                            By Rudyard Kipling\n\n\n_Illustrated by_\nArthur Rackham, A.R.W.S.\n\n\n\nNEW YORK\nDOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY\n1906\n\n\n\n\n\n                        Copyright, 1905, 1906, by\n                             RUDYARD KIPLING\n                         Published, October, 1906\n\n                         _All rights reserved,_\n         _including that of translation into foreign languages,_\n                       _including the Scandinavian_\n\n\n\n\n\n          ROBIN GOODFELLOW\u2014HIS FRIENDS\n\n          By RUDYARD KIPLING\n\n             I. A Centurion of the Thirtieth.\n            II. On the Great Wall.\n           III. The Winged Hats.\n            IV. Hal o\u2019 the Draft.\n             V. Dymchurch Flit.\n            VI. The Treasure and the Law.\n\n          Copyright, 1906, by RUDYARD KIPLING.\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                           PAGE\n_Puck\u2019s Song_                                 1\nWeland\u2019s Sword                                5\n_A Tree Song_                                29\nYoung Men at the Manor                       33\n_Sir Richard\u2019s Song_                         55\n_Harp Song of the Dane Women_                59\nThe Knights of the Joyous Venture            61\n_Thorkild\u2019s Song_                            87\nOld Men at Pevensey                          91\n_The Runes on Weland\u2019s Sword_               119\nA Centurion of the Thirtieth                125\n_A British-Roman Song_                      145\nOn the Great Wall                           149\n_A Song to Mithras_                         173\nThe Winged Hats                             177\n_A Pict Song_                               201\nHal o\u2019 the Draft                            207\n_A Smugglers\u2019 Song_                         227\n_The Bee Boy\u2019s Song_                        231\n\u2018Dymchurch Flit\u2019                            233\n_A Three-Part Song_                         251\n_Song of the Fifth River_                   255\nThe Treasure and the Law                    257\n_The Children\u2019s Song_                       276\n\n\n\n\n\nLIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS\n\n\n\u2018\u201cGo!\u201d she says, \u201cGo with my Leave an\u2019 Goodwill.\u201d\u2019        _Frontispiece_\n                                                             FACING PAGE\nIn the very spot where Dan had stood as Puck they saw a                6\nsmall, brown, broad-shouldered, pointy-eared person\nwith a snub nose, slanting blue eyes, and a grin that\nran right across his freckled face.\n\u2018There\u2019s where you meet hunters, and trappers for the                152\nCircuses, prodding along chained bears and muzzled\nwolves.\u2019\n\u2018Hoity-toity!\u2019 he cried. \u2018Here\u2019s Pride in purple                     212\nfeathers! Here\u2019s wrathy contempt and the Pomps of the\nFlesh!\u2019... And he doffed his cap to the bubbling bird.\n\n\n\n\n\n                           PUCK OF POOK\u2019S HILL\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPUCK\u2019S SONG\n\n\n  _See you the dimpled track that runs,_\n    _All hollow through the wheat?_\n  _O that was where they hauled the guns_\n    _That smote King Philip\u2019s fleet._\n\n  _See you our little mill that clacks,_\n    _So busy by the brook?_\n  _She has ground her corn and paid her tax_\n    _Ever since Domesday Book._\n\n  _See you our stilly woods of oak,_\n    _And the dread ditch beside?_\n  _O that was where the Saxons broke,_\n    _On the day that Harold died._\n\n  _See you the windy levels spread_\n    _About the gates of Rye?_\n  _O that was where the Northmen fled,_\n    _When Alfred\u2019s ships came by._\n\n  _See you our pastures wide and lone,_\n    _Where the red oxen browse?_\n  _O there was a City thronged and known,_\n    _Ere London boasted a house._\n\n  _And see you, after rain, the trace_\n    _Of mound and ditch and wall?_\n  _O that was a Legion\u2019s camping-place,_\n    _When C\u00e6sar sailed from Gaul._\n\n  _And see you marks that show and fade,_\n    _Like shadows on the Downs?_\n  _O they are the lines the Flint Men made,_\n    _To guard their wondrous towns._\n\n  _Trackway and Camp and City lost,_\n    _Salt Marsh where now is corn;_\n  _Old Wars, old Peace, old Arts that cease,_\n    _And so was England born!_\n\n  _She is not any common Earth,_\n    _Water or wood or air,_\n  _But Merlin\u2019s Isle of Gramarye,_\n    _Where you and I will fare._\n\n\n\n\n\nWELAND\u2019S SWORD\n\n\n\n\nWELAND\u2019S SWORD(1)\n\n\nThe children were at the Theatre, acting to Three Cows as much as they\ncould remember of _Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream_. Their father had made them a\nsmall play out of the big Shakespeare one, and they had rehearsed it with\nhim and with their mother till they could say it by heart. They began\nwhere Nick Bottom the weaver comes out of the bushes with a donkey\u2019s head\non his shoulder, and finds Titania, Queen of the Fairies, asleep. Then\nthey skipped to the part where Bottom asks three little fairies to scratch\nhis head and bring him honey, and they ended where he falls asleep in\nTitania\u2019s arms. Dan was Puck and Nick Bottom, as well as all three\nFairies. He wore a pointy-eared cloth cap for Puck, and a paper donkey\u2019s\nhead out of a Christmas cracker\u2014but it tore if you were not careful\u2014for\nBottom. Una was Titania, with a wreath of columbines and a foxglove wand.\n\nThe Theatre lay in a meadow called the Long Slip. A little mill-stream,\ncarrying water to a mill two or three fields away, bent round one corner\nof it, and in the middle of the bend lay a large old fairy Ring of\ndarkened grass, which was their stage. The mill-stream banks, overgrown\nwith willow, hazel, and guelder rose made convenient places to wait in\ntill your turn came; and a grown-up who had seen it said that Shakespeare\nhimself could not have imagined a more suitable setting for his play. They\nwere not, of course, allowed to act on Midsummer Night itself, but they\nwent down after tea on Midsummer Eve, when the shadows were growing, and\nthey took their supper\u2014hard-boiled eggs, Bath Oliver biscuits, and salt in\nan envelope\u2014with them. Three Cows had been milked and were grazing\nsteadily with a tearing noise that one could hear all down the meadow; and\nthe noise of the mill at work sounded like bare feet running on hard\nground. A cuckoo sat on a gatepost singing his broken June tune,\n\u2018cuckoo-cuk,\u2019 while a busy kingfisher crossed from the mill-stream to the\nbrook which ran on the other side of the meadow. Everything else was a\nsort of thick, sleepy stillness smelling of meadow-sweet and dry grass.\n\nTheir play went beautifully. Dan remembered all his parts\u2014Puck, Bottom,\nand the three Fairies\u2014and Una never forgot a word of Titania\u2014not even the\ndifficult piece where she tells the Fairies how to feed Bottom with\n\u2018apricocks, ripe figs, and dewberries,\u2019 and all the lines end in \u2018ies.\u2019\nThey were both so pleased that they acted it three times over from\nbeginning to end before they sat down in the unthistly centre of the Ring\nto eat eggs and Bath Olivers. This was when they heard a whistle among the\nalders on the bank, and they jumped.\n\n  [Illustration: In the very spot where Dan had stood as Puck they now\n  saw a small, brown, broad-shouldered, pointy-eared person with a snub\n  nose, slanting blue eyes, and a grin that ran right across his\n  freckled face.]\n\nThe bushes parted. In the very spot where Dan had stood as Puck they saw a\nsmall, brown, broad-shouldered, pointy-eared person with a snub nose,\nslanting blue eyes, and a grin that ran right across his freckled face. He\nshaded his forehead as though he were watching Quince, Snout, Bottom, and\nthe others rehearsing _Pyramus__ and Thisbe_, and, in a voice as deep as\nThree Cows asking to be milked, he began:\n\n  \u2018What hempen homespuns have we swaggering here,\n  So near the cradle of our fairy Queen?\u2019\n\nHe stopped, hollowed one hand round his ear, and, with a wicked twinkle in\nhis eye, went on:\n\n  \u2018What a play toward? I\u2019ll be auditor,\n  An actor too, perhaps, if I see cause.\u2019\n\nThe children looked and gasped. The small thing\u2014he was no taller than\nDan\u2019s shoulder\u2014stepped quietly into the Ring.\n\n\u2018I\u2019m rather out of practice,\u2019 said he; \u2018but that\u2019s the way my part ought\nto be played.\u2019\n\nStill the children stared at him\u2014from his dark blue cap, like a big\ncolumbine flower, to his bare, hairy feet. At last he laughed.\n\n\u2018Please don\u2019t look like that. It isn\u2019t _my_ fault. What else could you\nexpect?\u2019 he said.\n\n\u2018We didn\u2019t expect any one,\u2019 Dan answered, slowly. \u2018This is our field.\u2019\n\n\u2018Is it?\u2019 said their visitor, sitting down. \u2018Then what on Human Earth made\nyou act _Midsummer Night\u2019s Dream_ three times over, _on_ Midsummer Eve,\n_in_ the middle of a Ring, and under\u2014right _under_ one of my oldest hills\nin Old England? Pook\u2019s Hill\u2014Puck\u2019s Hill\u2014Puck\u2019s Hill\u2014Pook\u2019s Hill! It\u2019s as\nplain as the nose on my face.\u2019\n\nHe pointed to the bare, fern-covered slope of Pook\u2019s Hill that runs up\nfrom the far side of the mill-stream to a dark wood. Beyond that wood the\nground rises and rises for five hundred feet, till at last you climb out\non the bare top of Beacon Hill, to look over the Pevensey Levels and the\nChannel and half the naked South Downs.\n\n\u2018By Oak, Ash, and Thorn!\u2019 he cried, still laughing. \u2018If this had happened\na few hundred years ago you\u2019d have had all the People of the Hills out\nlike bees in June!\u2019\n\n\u2018We didn\u2019t know it was wrong,\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Wrong!\u2019 The little fellow shook with laughter. \u2018Indeed, it isn\u2019t wrong.\nYou\u2019ve done something that Kings and Knights and Scholars in old days\nwould have given their crowns and spurs and books to find out. If Merlin\nhimself had helped you, you couldn\u2019t have managed better! You\u2019ve broken\nthe Hills\u2014you\u2019ve broken the Hills! It hasn\u2019t happened in a thousand\nyears.\u2019\n\n\u2018We\u2014we didn\u2019t mean to,\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Of course you didn\u2019t! That\u2019s just why you did it. Unluckily the Hills are\nempty now, and all the People of the Hills are gone. I\u2019m the only one\nleft. I\u2019m Puck, the oldest Old Thing in England, very much at your service\nif\u2014if you care to have anything to do with me. If you don\u2019t, of course\nyou\u2019ve only to say so, and I\u2019ll go.\u2019\n\nHe looked at the children and the children looked at him for quite half a\nminute. His eyes did not twinkle any more. They were very kind, and there\nwas the beginning of a good smile on his lips.\n\nUna put out her hand. \u2018Don\u2019t go,\u2019 she said. \u2018We like you.\u2019\n\n\u2018Have a Bath Oliver,\u2019 said Dan, and he passed over the squashy envelope\nwith the eggs.\n\n\u2018By Oak, Ash, and Thorn!\u2019 cried Puck, taking off his blue cap, \u2018I like you\ntoo. Sprinkle a little salt on the biscuit, Dan, and I\u2019ll eat it with you.\nThat\u2019ll show you the sort of person I am. Some of us\u2019\u2014he went on, with his\nmouth full\u2014\u2018couldn\u2019t abide Salt, or Horseshoes over a door, or\nMountain-ash berries, or Running Water, or Cold Iron, or the sound of\nChurch Bells. But I\u2019m Puck!\u2019\n\nHe brushed the crumbs carefully from his doublet and shook hands.\n\n\u2018We always said, Dan and I,\u2019 Una stammered, \u2018that if it ever happened we\u2019d\nknow ex-actly what to do; but\u2014but now it seems all different somehow.\u2019\n\n\u2018She means meeting a fairy,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018_I_ never believed in \u2019em\u2014not\nafter I was six, anyhow.\u2019\n\n\u2018I did,\u2019 said Una. \u2018At least, I sort of half believed till we learned\n\u201cFarewell Rewards.\u201d Do you know \u201cFarewell Rewards and Fairies\u201d?\u2019\n\n\u2018Do you mean this?\u2019 said Puck. He threw his big head back and began at the\nsecond line:\u2014\n\n    \u2018Good housewives now may say,\n  For now foul sluts in dairies\n    Do fare as well as they;\n  For though they sweep their hearths no less\n\n(\u2018Join in, Una!\u2019)\n\n    Than maids were wont to do,\n  Yet who of late for cleanliness\n    Finds sixpence in her shoe?\u2019\n\nThe echoes flapped all along the flat meadow.\n\n\u2018Of course I know it,\u2019 he said.\n\n\u2018And then there\u2019s the verse about the Rings,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018When I was little\nit always made me feel unhappy in my inside.\u2019\n\n\u2018\u201cWitness those rings and roundelays,\u201d do you mean?\u2019 boomed Puck, with a\nvoice like a great church organ.\n\n    \u2018Of theirs which yet remain,\n  Were footed in Queen Mary\u2019s days\n    On many a grassy plain.\n  But since of late Elizabeth,\n    And later James came in,\n  Are never seen on any heath\n    As when the time hath been.\n\n\u2018It\u2019s some time since I heard that sung, but there\u2019s no good beating about\nthe bush: it\u2019s true. The People of the Hills have all left. I saw them\ncome into Old England and I saw them go. Giants, trolls, kelpies,\nbrownies, goblins, imps; wood, tree, mound, and water spirits;\nheath-people, hill-watchers, treasure-guards, good people, little people,\npishogues, leprechauns, night-riders, pixies, nixies, gnomes and the\nrest\u2014gone, all gone! I came into England with Oak, Ash, and Thorn, and\nwhen Oak, Ash, and Thorn are gone I shall go too.\u2019\n\nDan looked round the meadow\u2014at Una\u2019s oak by the lower gate, at the line of\nash trees that overhang Otter Pool where the mill-stream spills over when\nthe mill does not need it, and at the gnarled old white-thorn where Three\nCows scratched their necks.\n\n\u2018It\u2019s all right,\u2019 he said; and added, \u2018I\u2019m planting a lot of acorns this\nautumn too.\u2019\n\n\u2018Then aren\u2019t you most awfully old?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Not old\u2014fairly long-lived, as folk say hereabouts. Let me see\u2014my friends\nused to set my dish of cream for me o\u2019 nights when Stonehenge was new.\nYes, before the Flint Men made the Dewpond under Chanctonbury Ring.\u2019\n\nUna clasped her hands, cried \u2018Oh!\u2019 and nodded her head.\n\n\u2018She\u2019s thought a plan,\u2019 Dan explained. \u2018She always does like that when she\nthinks a plan.\u2019\n\n\u2018I was thinking\u2014suppose we saved some of our porridge and put it in the\nattic for you. They\u2019d notice if we left it in the nursery.\u2019\n\n\u2018Schoolroom,\u2019 said Dan, quickly, and Una flushed, because they had made a\nsolemn treaty that summer not to call the schoolroom the nursery any more.\n\n\u2018Bless your heart o\u2019 gold!\u2019 said Puck. \u2018You\u2019ll make a fine considering\nwench some market-day. I really don\u2019t want you to put out a bowl for me;\nbut if ever I need a bite, be sure I\u2019ll tell you.\u2019\n\nHe stretched himself at length on the dry grass, and the children\nstretched out beside him, their bare legs waving happily in the air. They\nfelt they could not be afraid of him any more than of their particular\nfriend old Hobden, the hedger. He did not bother them with grown-up\nquestions, or laugh at the donkey\u2019s head, but lay and smiled to himself in\nthe most sensible way.\n\n\u2018Have you a knife on you?\u2019 he said at last.\n\nDan handed over his big one-bladed outdoor knife, and Puck began to carve\nout a piece of turf from the centre of the Ring.\n\n\u2018What\u2019s that for\u2014Magic?\u2019 said Una, as he pressed up the square of\nchocolate loam that cut like so much cheese.\n\n\u2018One of my little Magics,\u2019 he answered, and cut another. \u2018You see, I can\u2019t\nlet you into the Hills because the People of the Hills have gone; but if\nyou care to take seizin from me, I may be able to show you something out\nof the common here on Human Earth. You certainly deserve it.\u2019\n\n\u2018What\u2019s taking seizin?\u2019 said Dan, cautiously.\n\n\u2018It\u2019s an old custom the people had when they bought and sold land. They\nused to cut out a clod and hand it over to the buyer, and you weren\u2019t\nlawfully seized of your land\u2014it didn\u2019t really belong to you\u2014till the other\nfellow had actually given you a piece of it\u2014like this.\u2019 He held out the\nturves.\n\n\u2018But it\u2019s our own meadow,\u2019 said Dan, drawing back. \u2018Are you going to magic\nit away?\u2019\n\nPuck laughed. \u2018I know it\u2019s your meadow, but there\u2019s a great deal more in\nit than you or your father ever guessed. Try!\u2019\n\nHe turned his eyes on Una.\n\n\u2018I\u2019ll do it,\u2019 she said. Dan followed her example at once.\n\n\u2018Now are you two lawfully seized and possessed of all Old England,\u2019 began\nPuck, in a sing-song voice. \u2018By Right of Oak, Ash, and Thorn are you free\nto come and go and look and know where I shall show or best you please.\nYou shall see What you shall see and you shall hear What you shall hear,\nthough It shall have happened three thousand year; and you shall know\nneither Doubt nor Fear. Fast! Hold fast all I give you.\u2019\n\nThe children shut their eyes, but nothing happened.\n\n\u2018Well?\u2019 said Una, disappointedly opening them. \u2018I thought there would be\ndragons.\u2019\n\n\u2018Though It shall have happened three thousand year,\u2019 said Puck, and\ncounted on his fingers. \u2018No; I\u2019m afraid there were no dragons three\nthousand years ago.\u2019\n\n\u2018But there hasn\u2019t happened anything at all,\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Wait awhile,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018You don\u2019t grow an oak in a year\u2014and Old\nEngland\u2019s older than twenty oaks. Let\u2019s sit down again and think. _I_ can\ndo that for a century at a time.\u2019\n\n\u2018Ah, but you are a fairy,\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Have you ever heard me use that word yet?\u2019 said Puck, quickly.\n\n\u2018No. You talk about \u201cthe People of the Hills,\u201d but you never say\n\u201cfairies,\u201d\u2019 said Una. \u2018I was wondering at that. Don\u2019t you like it?\u2019\n\n\u2018How would you like to be called \u201cmortal\u201d or \u201chuman being\u201d all the time?\u2019\nsaid Puck; \u2018or \u201cson of Adam\u201d or \u201cdaughter of Eve\u201d?\u2019\n\n\u2018I shouldn\u2019t like it at all,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018That\u2019s how the Djinns and Afrits\ntalk in the _Arabian Nights_.\u2019\n\n\u2018And that\u2019s how _I_ feel about saying\u2014that word that I don\u2019t say. Besides,\nwhat you call _them_ are made-up things the People of the Hills have never\nheard of\u2014little buzzflies with butterfly wings and gauze petticoats, and\nshiny stars in their hair, and a wand like a schoolteacher\u2019s cane for\npunishing bad boys and rewarding good ones. _I_ know \u2019em!\u2019\n\n\u2018We don\u2019t mean that sort,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018We hate \u2019em too.\u2019\n\n\u2018Exactly,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018Can you wonder that the People of the Hills don\u2019t\ncare to be confused with that painty-winged, wand-waving,\nsugar-and-shake-your-head set of impostors? Butterfly wings, indeed! I\u2019ve\nseen Sir Huon and a troop of his people setting off from Tintagel Castle\nfor Hy-Brasil in the teeth of a sou\u2019-westerly gale, with the spray flying\nall over the castle, and the Horses of the Hill wild with fright. Out\nthey\u2019d go in a lull, screaming like gulls, and back they\u2019d be driven five\ngood miles inland before they could come head to wind again.\nButterfly-wings! It was Magic\u2014Magic as black as Merlin could make it, and\nthe whole sea was green fire and white foam with singing mermaids in it.\nAnd the Horses of the Hill picked their way from one wave to another by\nthe lightning flashes! _That_ was how it was in the old days!\u2019\n\n\u2018Splendid,\u2019 said Dan, but Una shuddered.\n\n\u2018I\u2019m glad they\u2019re gone, then; but what made the People of the Hills go\naway?\u2019 Una asked.\n\n\u2018Different things. I\u2019ll tell you one of them some day\u2014the thing that made\nthe biggest flit of any,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018But they didn\u2019t all flit at once.\nThey dropped off, one by one, through the centuries. Most of them were\nforeigners who couldn\u2019t stand our climate. _They_ flitted early.\u2019\n\n\u2018How early?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018A couple of thousand years or more. The fact is they began as Gods. The\nPh\u0153nicians brought some over when they came to buy tin; and the Gauls, and\nthe Jutes, and the Danes, and the Frisians, and the Angles brought more\nwhen they landed. They were always landing in those days, or being driven\nback to their ships, and they always brought their Gods with them. England\nis a bad country for Gods. Now, _I_ began as I mean to go on. A bowl of\nporridge, a dish of milk, and a little quiet fun with the country folk in\nthe lanes was enough for me then, as it is now. I belong here, you see,\nand I have been mixed up with people all my days. But most of the others\ninsisted on being Gods, and having temples, and altars, and priests, and\nsacrifices of their own.\u2019\n\n\u2018People burned in wicker baskets?\u2019 said Dan. \u2018Like Miss Blake tells us\nabout?\u2019\n\n\u2018All sorts of sacrifices,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018If it wasn\u2019t men, it was horses, or\ncattle, or pigs, or metheglin\u2014that\u2019s a sticky, sweet sort of beer. _I_\nnever liked it. They were a stiff-necked, extravagant set of idols, the\nOld Things. But what was the result? Men don\u2019t like being sacrificed at\nthe best of times; they don\u2019t even like sacrificing their farm-horses.\nAfter a while men simply left the Old Things alone, and the roofs of their\ntemples fell in, and the Old Things had to scuttle out and pick up a\nliving as they could. Some of them took to hanging about trees, and hiding\nin graves and groaning o\u2019 nights. If they groaned loud enough and long\nenough they might frighten a poor countryman into sacrificing a hen, or\nleaving a pound of butter for them. I remember one Goddess called\nBelisama. She became a common wet water-spirit somewhere in Lancashire.\nAnd there were hundreds of other friends of mine. First they were Gods.\nThen they were People of the Hills, and then they flitted to other places\nbecause they couldn\u2019t get on with the English for one reason or another.\nThere was only one Old Thing, I remember, who honestly worked for his\nliving after he came down in the world. He was called Weland, and he was a\nsmith to some Gods. I\u2019ve forgotten their names, but he used to make them\nswords and spears. I think he claimed kin with Thor of the Scandinavians.\u2019\n\n\u2018_Heroes of Asgard_ Thor?\u2019 said Una. She had been reading the book.\n\n\u2018Perhaps,\u2019 answered Puck. \u2018None the less, when bad times came, he didn\u2019t\nbeg or steal. He worked; and I was lucky enough to be able to do him a\ngood turn.\u2019\n\n\u2018Tell us about it,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018I think I like hearing of Old Things.\u2019\n\nThey rearranged themselves comfortably, each chewing a grass stem. Puck\npropped himself on one strong arm and went on:\n\n\u2018Let\u2019s think! I met Weland first on a November afternoon in a sleet storm,\non Pevensey Level\u2014\u2014\u2019\n\n\u2018Pevensey? Over the hill, you mean?\u2019 Dan pointed south.\n\n\u2018Yes; but it was all marsh in those days, right up to Horsebridge and\nHydeneye. I was on Beacon Hill\u2014they called it Brunanburgh then\u2014when I saw\nthe pale flame that burning thatch makes, and I went down to look. Some\npirates\u2014I think they must have been Peofn\u2019s men\u2014were burning a village on\nthe Levels, and Weland\u2019s image\u2014a big, black wooden thing with amber beads\nround its neck\u2014lay in the bows of a black thirty-two-oar galley that they\nhad just beached. Bitter cold it was! There were icicles hanging from her\ndeck, and the oars were glazed over with ice, and there was ice on\nWeland\u2019s lips. When he saw me he began a long chant in his own tongue,\ntelling me how he was going to rule England, and how I should smell the\nsmoke of his altars from Lincolnshire to the Isle of Wight. _I_ didn\u2019t\ncare! I\u2019d seen too many Gods charging into Old England to be upset about\nit. I let him sing himself out while his men were burning the village, and\nthen I said (I don\u2019t know what put it into my head), \u201cSmith of the Gods,\u201d\nI said, \u201cthe time comes when I shall meet you plying your trade for hire\nby the wayside.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018What did Weland say?\u2019 said Una. \u2018Was he angry?\u2019\n\n\u2018He called me names and rolled his eyes, and I went away to wake up the\npeople inland. But the pirates conquered the country, and for centuries\nWeland was a most important God. He had temples everywhere\u2014from\nLincolnshire to the Isle of Wight, as he said\u2014and his sacrifices were\nsimply scandalous. To do him justice, he preferred horses to men; but men\n_or_ horses, I knew that presently he\u2019d have to come down in the\nworld\u2014like the other Old Things. I gave him lots of time\u2014I gave him about\na thousand years\u2014and at the end of \u2019em I went into one of his temples near\nAndover to see how he prospered. There was his altar, and there was his\nimage, and there were his priests, and there were the congregation, and\neverybody seemed quite happy, except Weland and the priests. In the old\ndays the congregation were unhappy until the priests had chosen their\nsacrifices; and so would _you_ have been. When the service began a priest\nrushed out, dragged a man up to the altar, pretended to hit him on the\nhead with a little gilt axe, and the man fell down and pretended to die.\nThen everybody shouted: \u201cA sacrifice to Weland! A sacrifice to Weland!\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018And the man wasn\u2019t really dead?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Not a bit. All as much pretence as a dolls\u2019 tea-party. Then they brought\nout a splendid white horse, and the priest cut some hair from its mane and\ntail and burned it on the altar, shouting, \u201cA sacrifice!\u201d That counted the\nsame as if a man and a horse had been killed. I saw poor Weland\u2019s face\nthrough the smoke, and I couldn\u2019t help laughing. He looked so disgusted\nand so hungry, and all he had to satisfy himself was a horrid smell of\nburning hair. Just a dolls\u2019 tea-party!\n\n\u2018I judged it better not to say anything then (\u2019twouldn\u2019t have been fair),\nand the next time I came to Andover, a few hundred years later, Weland and\nhis temple were gone, and there was a Christian bishop in a Church there.\nNone of the People of the Hills could tell me anything about him, and I\nsupposed that he had left England.\u2019 Puck turned; lay on the other elbow,\nand thought for a long time.\n\n\u2018Let\u2019s see,\u2019 he said at last. \u2018It must have been some few years later\u2014a\nyear or two before the Conquest, I think\u2014that I came back to Pook\u2019s Hill\nhere, and one evening I heard old Hobden talking about Weland\u2019s Ford.\u2019\n\n\u2018If you mean old Hobden the hedger, he\u2019s only seventy-two. He told me so\nhimself,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018He\u2019s a intimate friend of ours.\u2019\n\n\u2018You\u2019re quite right,\u2019 Puck replied. \u2018I meant old Hobden\u2019s ninth\ngreat-grandfather. He was a free man and burned charcoal hereabouts. I\u2019ve\nknown the family, father and son, so long that I get confused sometimes.\nHob of the Dene was my Hobden\u2019s name, and he lived at the Forge cottage.\nOf course, I pricked up my ears when I heard Weland mentioned, and I\nscuttled through the woods to the Ford just beyond Bog Wood yonder.\u2019 He\njerked his head westward, where the valley narrows between wooded hills\nand steep hop-fields.\n\n\u2018Why, that\u2019s Willingford Bridge,\u2019 said Una. \u2018We go there for walks often.\nThere\u2019s a kingfisher there.\u2019\n\n\u2018It was Weland\u2019s Ford then, dear. A road led down to it from the Beacon on\nthe top of the hill\u2014a shocking bad road it was\u2014and all the hillside was\nthick, thick oak-forest, with deer in it. There was no trace of Weland,\nbut presently I saw a fat old farmer riding down from the Beacon under the\ngreenwood tree. His horse had cast a shoe in the clay, and when he came to\nthe Ford he dismounted, took a penny out of his purse, laid it on a stone,\ntied the old horse to an oak, and called out: \u201cSmith, Smith, here is work\nfor you!\u201d Then he sat down and went to sleep. You can imagine how _I_ felt\nwhen I saw a white-bearded, bent old blacksmith in a leather apron creep\nout from behind the oak and begin to shoe the horse. It was Weland\nhimself. I was so astonished that I jumped out and said: \u201cWhat on Human\nEarth are you doing here, Weland?\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018Poor Weland!\u2019 sighed Una.\n\n\u2018He pushed the long hair back from his forehead (he didn\u2019t recognise me at\nfirst). Then he said: \u201c_You_ ought to know. You foretold it, Old Thing.\nI\u2019m shoeing horses for hire. I\u2019m not even Weland now,\u201d he said. \u201cThey call\nme Wayland-Smith.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018Poor chap!\u2019 said Dan. \u2018What did you say?\u2019\n\n\u2018What could I say? He looked up, with the horse\u2019s foot on his lap, and he\nsaid, smiling, \u201cI remember the time when I wouldn\u2019t have accepted this old\nbag of bones as a sacrifice, and now I\u2019m glad enough to shoe him for a\npenny.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIsn\u2019t there any way for you to get back to Valhalla, or wherever you\ncome from?\u201d I said.\n\n\u2018\u201cI\u2019m afraid not,\u201d he said, rasping away at the hoof. He had a wonderful\ntouch with horses. The old beast was whinnying on his shoulder. \u201cYou may\nremember that I was not a gentle God in my Day and my Time and my Power. I\nshall never be released till some human being truly wishes me well.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cSurely,\u201d said I, \u201cthe farmer can\u2019t do less than that. You\u2019re shoeing the\nhorse all round for him.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYes,\u201d said he, \u201cand my nails will hold a shoe from one full moon to the\nnext. But farmers and Weald Clay,\u201d said he, \u201care both uncommon cold and\nsour.\u201d\n\n\u2018Would you believe it, that when that farmer woke and found his horse shod\nhe rode away without one word of thanks? I was so angry that I wheeled his\nhorse right round and walked him back three miles to the Beacon just to\nteach the old sinner politeness.\u2019\n\n\u2018Were you invisible?\u2019 said Una. Puck nodded, gravely.\n\n\u2018The Beacon was always laid in those days ready to light, in case the\nFrench landed at Pevensey; and I walked the horse about and about it that\nlee-long summer night. The farmer thought he was bewitched\u2014well, he _was_,\nof course\u2014and began to pray and shout. _I_ didn\u2019t care! I was as good a\nChristian as he any fair-day in the County, and about four o\u2019clock in the\nmorning a young novice came along from the monastery that used to stand on\nthe top of Beacon hill.\u2019\n\n\u2018What\u2019s a novice?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018It really means a man who is beginning to be a monk, but in those days\npeople sent their sons to a monastery just the same as a school. This\nyoung fellow had been to a monastery in France for a few months every\nyear, and he was finishing his studies in the monastery close to his home\nhere. Hugh was his name, and he had got up to go fishing hereabouts. His\npeople owned all this valley. Hugh heard the farmer shouting, and asked\nhim what in the world he meant. The old man spun him a wonderful tale\nabout fairies and goblins and witches; and I _know_ he hadn\u2019t seen a thing\nexcept rabbits and red deer all that night. (The People of the Hills are\nlike otters\u2014they don\u2019t show except when they choose.) But the novice\nwasn\u2019t a fool. He looked down at the horse\u2019s feet, and saw the new shoes\nfastened as only Weland knew how to fasten \u2019em. (Weland had a way of\nturning down the nails that folks called the Smith\u2019s Clinch.)\n\n\u2018\u201cH\u2019m!\u201d said the novice. \u201cWhere did you get your horse shod?\u201d\n\n\u2018The farmer wouldn\u2019t tell him at first, because the priests never liked\ntheir people to have any dealings with the Old Things. At last he\nconfessed that the Smith had done it. \u201cWhat did you pay him?\u201d said the\nnovice. \u201cPenny,\u201d said the farmer, very sulkily. \u201cThat\u2019s less than a\nChristian would have charged,\u201d said the novice. \u201cI hope you threw a \u2018Thank\nyou\u2019 into the bargain.\u201d \u201cNo,\u201d said the farmer; \u201cWayland-Smith\u2019s a\nheathen.\u201d \u201cHeathen or no heathen,\u201d said the novice, \u201cyou took his help,\nand where you get help there you must give thanks.\u201d \u201cWhat?\u201d said the\nfarmer\u2014he was in a furious temper because I was walking the old horse in\ncircles all this time\u2014\u201cWhat, you young jackanapes?\u201d said he. \u201cThen by your\nreasoning I ought to say \u2018Thank you\u2019 to Satan if he helped me?\u201d \u201cDon\u2019t\nroll about up there splitting reasons with me,\u201d said the novice. \u201cCome\nback to the Ford and thank the Smith, or you\u2019ll be sorry.\u201d\n\n\u2018Back the farmer had to go! I led the horse, though no one saw me, and the\nnovice walked beside us, his gown swishing through the shiny dew and his\nfishing-rod across his shoulders spearwise. When we reached the Ford\nagain\u2014it was five o\u2019clock and misty still under the oaks\u2014the farmer simply\nwouldn\u2019t say \u201cThank you.\u201d He said he\u2019d tell the Abbot that the novice\nwanted him to worship heathen gods. Then Hugh the novice lost his temper.\nHe just cried, \u201cOut!\u201d put his arm under the farmer\u2019s fat leg, and heaved\nhim from his saddle on to the turf, and before he could rise he caught him\nby the back of the neck and shook him like a rat till the farmer growled,\n\u201cThank you, Wayland-Smith.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018Did Weland see all this?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Oh, yes, and he shouted his old war-cry when the farmer thudded on to the\nground. He was delighted. Then the novice turned to the oak and said, \u201cHo!\nSmith of the Gods, I am ashamed of this rude farmer; but for all you have\ndone in kindness and charity to him and to others of our people, I thank\nyou and wish you well.\u201d Then he picked up his fishing-rod\u2014it looked more\nlike a tall spear than ever\u2014and tramped off down your valley.\u2019\n\n\u2018And what did poor Weland do?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018He laughed and cried with joy, because he had been released at last, and\ncould go away. But he was an honest Old Thing. He had worked for his\nliving and he paid his debts before he left. \u201cI shall give that novice a\ngift,\u201d said Weland. \u201cA gift that shall do him good the wide world over,\nand Old England after him. Blow up my fire, Old Thing, while I get the\niron for my last task.\u201d Then he made a sword\u2014a dark grey, wavy-lined\nsword\u2014and I blew the fire while he hammered. By Oak, Ash, and Thorn, I\ntell you, Weland was a Smith of the Gods! He cooled that sword in running\nwater twice, and the third time he cooled it in the evening dew, and he\nlaid it out in the moonlight and said Runes (that\u2019s charms) over it, and\nhe carved Runes of Prophecy on the blade. \u201cOld Thing,\u201d he said to me,\nwiping his forehead, \u201cthis is the best blade that Weland ever made. Even\nthe user will never know how good it is. Come to the monastery.\u201d\n\n\u2018We went to the dormitory where the monks slept. We saw the novice fast\nasleep in his cot, and Weland put the sword into his hand, and I remember\nthe young fellow gripped it in his sleep. Then Weland strode as far as he\ndared into the Chapel and threw down all his shoeing-tools\u2014his hammer, and\npincers, and rasps\u2014to show that he had done with them for ever. It sounded\nlike suits of armour falling, and the sleepy monks ran in, for they\nthought the monastery had been attacked by the French. The novice came\nfirst of all, waving his new sword and shouting Saxon battle-cries. When\nthey saw the shoeing-tools they were very bewildered, till the novice\nasked leave to speak, and told what he had done to the farmer, and what he\nhad said to Wayland-Smith, and how, though the dormitory light was\nburning, he had found the wonderful rune-carved sword in his cot.\n\n\u2018The Abbot shook his head at first, and then he laughed and said to the\nnovice: \u201cSon Hugh, it needed no sign from a heathen God to show me that\nyou will never be a monk. Take your sword, and keep your sword, and go\nwith your sword, and be as gentle as you are strong and courteous. We will\nhang up the Smith\u2019s tools before the Altar,\u201d he said, \u201cbecause, whatever\nthe Smith of the Gods may have been in the old days, we know that he\nworked honestly for his living and made gifts to Mother Church.\u201d Then they\nwent to bed again, all except the novice, and he sat up in the garth\nplaying with his sword. Then Weland said to me by the stables: \u201cFarewell,\nOld Thing; you had the right of it. You saw me come to England, and you\nsee me go. Farewell!\u201d\n\n\u2018With that he strode down the hill to the corner of the Great Woods\u2014Woods\nCorner, you call it now\u2014to the very place where he had first landed\u2014and I\nheard him moving through the thickets towards Horsebridge for a little,\nand then he was gone. That was how it happened. I saw it.\u2019\n\nBoth children drew a long breath.\n\n\u2018But what happened to Hugh the novice?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018And the sword?\u2019 said Dan.\n\nPuck looked down the meadow that lay all quiet and cool in the shadow of\nPook\u2019s Hill. A corncrake jarred in a hay-field near by, and the small\ntrouts of the brook began to jump. A big white moth flew unsteadily from\nthe alders and flapped round the children\u2019s heads, and the least little\nhaze of water-mist rose from the brook.\n\n\u2018Do you really want to know?\u2019 Puck said.\n\n\u2018We do,\u2019 cried the children. \u2018Awfully!\u2019\n\n\u2018Very good. I promised you that you shall see What you shall see, and you\nshall hear What you shall hear, though It shall have happened three\nthousand year; but just now it seems to me that, unless you go back to the\nhouse, people will be looking for you. I\u2019ll walk with you as far as the\ngate.\u2019\n\n\u2018Will you be here when we come again?\u2019 they asked.\n\n\u2018Surely, sure-ly,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018I\u2019ve been here some time already. One\nminute first, please.\u2019\n\nHe gave them each three leaves\u2014one of Oak, one of Ash, and one of Thorn.\n\n\u2018Bite these,\u2019 said he. \u2018Otherwise you might be talking at home of what\nyou\u2019ve seen and heard, and\u2014if I know human beings\u2014they\u2019d send for the\ndoctor. Bite!\u2019\n\nThey bit hard, and found themselves walking side by side to the lower\ngate. Their father was leaning over it.\n\n\u2018And how did your play go?\u2019 he asked.\n\n\u2018Oh, splendidly,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018Only afterwards, I think, we went to sleep.\nIt was very hot and quiet. Don\u2019t you remember, Una?\u2019\n\nUna shook her head and said nothing.\n\n\u2018I see,\u2019 said her father.\n\n  \u2018Late\u2014late in the evening Kilmeny came home,\n  For Kilmeny had been she could not tell where,\n  And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare.\n\nBut why are you chewing leaves at your time of life, daughter? For fun?\u2019\n\n\u2018No. It was for something, but I can\u2019t azactly remember,\u2019 said Una.\n\nAnd neither of them could till\u2014\n\n\n\n\nA TREE SONG\n\n\n  _Of all the trees that grow so fair,_\n    _Old England to adorn,_\n  _Greater are none beneath the Sun,_\n    _Than Oak, and Ash, and Thorn._\n  _Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good Sirs_\n    _(All of a Midsummer morn)!_\n  _Surely we sing no little thing,_\n    _In Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!_\n\n  _Oak of the Clay lived many a day,_\n    _Or ever \u00c6neas began;_\n  _Ash of the Loam was a lady at home,_\n    _When Brut was an outlaw man;_\n  _Thorn of the Down saw New Troy Town_\n    _(From which was London born);_\n  _Witness hereby the ancientry_\n    _Of Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!_\n\n  _Yew that is old in churchyard mould,_\n    _He breedeth a mighty bow;_\n  _Alder for shoes do wise men choose,_\n    _And beech for cups also._\n  _But when ye have killed, and your bowl is spilled,_\n    _And your shoes are clean outworn,_\n  _Back ye must speed for all that ye need,_\n    _To Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!_\n\n  _Ellum she hateth mankind, and waiteth_\n    _Till every gust be laid,_\n  _To drop a limb on the head of him,_\n    _That anyway trusts her shade_\n  _But whether a lad be sober or sad,_\n    _Or mellow with ale from the horn,_\n  _He will take no wrong when he lieth along_\n    _\u2019Neath Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!_\n\n  _Oh, do not tell the Priest our plight,_\n    _Or he would call it a sin;_\n  _But\u2014we have been out in the woods all night_\n    _A-conjuring Summer in!_\n  _And we bring you news by word of mouth\u2014_\n    _Good news for cattle and corn\u2014_\n  _Now is the Sun come up from the South,_\n    _With Oak, and Ash, and Thorn!_\n\n  _Sing Oak, and Ash, and Thorn, good Sirs_\n    _(All of a Midsummer morn)!_\n  _England shall bide till Judgment Tide,_\n    _By Oak, and Ash and Thorn!_\n\n\n\n\n\nYOUNG MEN AT THE MANOR\n\n\n\n\nYOUNG MEN AT THE MANOR\n\n\nThey were fishing, a few days later, in the bed of the brook that for\ncenturies had cut deep into the soft valley soil. The trees closing\noverhead made long tunnels through which the sunshine worked in blobs and\npatches. Down in the tunnels were bars of sand and gravel, old roots and\ntrunks covered with moss or painted red by the irony water; foxgloves\ngrowing lean and pale towards the light; clumps of fern and thirsty shy\nflowers who could not live away from moisture and shade. In the pools you\ncould see the wave thrown up by the trouts as they charged hither and yon,\nand the pools were joined to each other\u2014except in flood time, when all was\none brown rush\u2014by sheets of thin broken water that poured themselves\nchuckling round the darkness of the next bend.\n\nThis was one of the children\u2019s most secret hunting-grounds, and their\nparticular friend, old Hobden the hedger, had shown them how to use it.\nExcept for the click of a rod hitting a low willow, or a switch and tussle\namong the young ash-leaves as a line hung up for the minute, nobody in the\nhot pasture could have guessed what game was going on among the trouts\nbelow the banks.\n\n\u2018We\u2019s got half-a-dozen,\u2019 said Dan, after a warm, wet hour. \u2018I vote we go\nup to Stone Bay and try Long Pool.\u2019\n\nUna nodded\u2014most of her talk was by nods\u2014and they crept from the gloom of\nthe tunnels towards the tiny weir that turns the brook into the\nmill-stream. Here the banks are low and bare, and the glare of the\nafternoon sun on the Long Pool below the weir makes your eyes ache.\n\nWhen they were in the open they nearly fell down with astonishment. A huge\ngrey horse, whose tail-hairs crinkled the glassy water, was drinking in\nthe pool, and the ripples about his muzzle flashed like melted gold. On\nhis back sat an old, white-haired man dressed in a loose glimmery gown of\nchain-mail. He was bareheaded, and a nut-shaped iron helmet hung at his\nsaddle-bow. His reins were of red leather five or six inches deep,\nscalloped at the edges, and his high padded saddle with its red girths was\nheld fore and aft by a red leather breastband and crupper.\n\n\u2018Look!\u2019 said Una, as though Dan were not staring his very eyes out. \u2018It\u2019s\nlike the picture in your room\u2014\u201cSir Isumbras at the Ford.\u201d\u2019\n\nThe rider turned towards them, and his thin, long face was just as sweet\nand gentle as that of the knight who carries the children in that picture.\n\n\u2018They should be here now, Sir Richard,\u2019 said Puck\u2019s deep voice among the\nwillow-herb.\n\n\u2018They are here,\u2019 the knight said, and he smiled at Dan with the string of\ntrouts in his hand. \u2018There seems no great change in boys since mine fished\nthis water.\u2019\n\n\u2018If your horse has drunk, we shall be more at ease in the Ring,\u2019 said\nPuck; and he nodded to the children as though he had never magicked away\ntheir memories the week before.\n\nThe great horse turned and hoisted himself into the pasture with a kick\nand a scramble that tore the clods down rattling.\n\n\u2018Your pardon!\u2019 said Sir Richard to Dan. \u2018When these lands were mine, I\nnever loved that mounted men should cross the brook except by the paved\nford. But my Swallow here was thirsty, and I wished to meet you.\u2019\n\n\u2018We\u2019re very glad you\u2019ve come, sir,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018It doesn\u2019t matter in the\nleast about the banks.\u2019\n\nHe trotted across the pasture on the sword-side of the mighty horse, and\nit was a mighty iron-handled sword that swung from Sir Richard\u2019s belt. Una\nwalked behind with Puck. She remembered everything now.\n\n\u2018I\u2019m sorry about the Leaves,\u2019 he said, \u2018but it would never have done if\nyou had gone home and told, would it?\u2019\n\n\u2018I s\u2019pose not,\u2019 Una answered. \u2018But you said that all the fair\u2014People of\nthe Hills had left England.\u2019\n\n\u2018So they have; but I told you that you should come and go and look and\nknow, didn\u2019t I? The knight isn\u2019t a fairy. He\u2019s Sir Richard Dalyngridge, a\nvery old friend of mine. He came over with William the Conqueror, and he\nwants to see you particularly.\u2019\n\n\u2018What for?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018On account of your great wisdom and learning,\u2019 Puck replied, without a\ntwinkle.\n\n\u2018Us?\u2019 said Una. \u2018Why, I don\u2019t know my Nine Times\u2014not to say it dodging;\nand Dan makes the most _awful_ mess of fractions. He can\u2019t mean _us_!\u2019\n\n\u2018Una!\u2019 Dan called back. \u2018Sir Richard says he is going to tell what\nhappened to Weland\u2019s sword. He\u2019s got it. Isn\u2019t it splendid?\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay\u2014nay,\u2019 said Sir Richard, dismounting as they reached the Ring, in the\nbend of the mill-stream bank. \u2018It is you that must tell me, for I hear the\nyoungest child in our England to-day is as wise as our wisest clerk.\u2019 He\nslipped the bit out of Swallow\u2019s mouth, dropped the ruby-red reins over\nhis head, and the wise horse moved off to graze.\n\nSir Richard (they noticed he limped a little) unslung his great sword.\n\n\u2018That\u2019s it,\u2019 Dan whispered to Una.\n\n\u2018This is the sword that Brother Hugh had from Wayland-Smith,\u2019 Sir Richard\nsaid. \u2018Once he gave it to me, but I would not take it; but at the last it\nbecame mine after such a fight as never christened man fought. See!\u2019 He\nhalf drew it from its sheath and turned it before them. On either side\njust below the handle, where the Runic letters shivered as though they\nwere alive, were two deep gouges in the dull, deadly steel. \u2018Now, what\nThing made those?\u2019 said he. \u2018I know not, but you, perhaps, can say.\u2019\n\n\u2018Tell them all the tale, Sir Richard,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018It concerns their land\nsomewhat.\u2019\n\n\u2018Yes, from the very beginning,\u2019 Una pleaded, for the knight\u2019s good face\nand the smile on it more than ever reminded her of \u2018Sir Isumbras at the\nFord.\u2019\n\nThey settled down to listen, Sir Richard bare-headed to the sunshine,\ndandling the sword in both hands, while the grey horse cropped outside the\nRing, and the helmet on the saddle-bow clinged softly each time he jerked\nhis head.\n\n\u2018From the beginning, then,\u2019 Sir Richard said, \u2018since it concerns your\nland, I will tell the tale. When our Duke came out of Normandy to take his\nEngland, great knights (have ye heard?) came and strove hard to serve the\nDuke, because he promised them lands here, and small knights followed the\ngreat ones. My folk in Normandy were poor; but a great knight, Engerrard\nof the Eagle\u2014Engenulf De Aquila\u2014who was kin to my father, followed the\nEarl of Mortain, who followed William the Duke, and I followed De Aquila.\nYes, with thirty men-at-arms out of my father\u2019s house and a new sword, I\nset out to conquer England three days after I was made knight. I did not\nthen know that England would conquer me. We went up to Santlache with the\nrest\u2014a very great host of us.\u2019\n\n\u2018Does that mean the Battle of Hastings\u2014Ten Sixty-Six?\u2019 Una whispered, and\nPuck nodded, so as not to interrupt.\n\n\u2018At Santlache, over the hill yonder\u2019\u2014he pointed south-eastward towards\nFairlight\u2014\u2018we found Harold\u2019s men. We fought. At the day\u2019s end they ran. My\nmen went with De Aquila\u2019s to chase and plunder, and in that chase\nEngerrard of the Eagle was slain, and his son Gilbert took his banner and\nhis men forward. This I did not know till after, for Swallow here was cut\nin the flank, so I stayed to wash the wound at a brook by a thorn. There a\nsingle Saxon cried out to me in French, and we fought together. I should\nhave known his voice, but we fought together. For a long time neither had\nany advantage, till by pure ill-fortune his foot slipped and his sword\nflew from his hand. Now I had but newly been made knight, and wished,\nabove all, to be courteous and fameworthy, so I forebore to strike and\nbade him get his sword again. \u201cA plague on my sword,\u201d said he. \u201cIt has\nlost me my first fight. You have spared my life. Take my sword.\u201d He held\nit out to me, but as I stretched my hand the sword groaned like a stricken\nman, and I leaped back crying, \u201cSorcery!\u201d\n\n[The children looked at the sword as though it might speak again.]\n\n\u2018Suddenly a clump of Saxons ran out upon me and, seeing a Norman alone,\nwould have killed me, but my Saxon cried out that I was his prisoner, and\nbeat them off. Thus, see you, he saved my life. He put me on my horse and\nled me through the woods ten long miles to this valley.\u2019\n\n\u2018To here, d\u2019you mean?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018To this very valley. We came in by the Lower Ford under the King\u2019s Hill\nyonder\u2019\u2014he pointed eastward where the valley widens.\n\n\u2018And was that Saxon Hugh the novice?\u2019 Dan asked.\n\n\u2018Yes, and more than that. He had been for three years at the monastery at\nBec by Rouen, where\u2019\u2014Sir Richard chuckled\u2014\u2018the Abbot Herluin would not\nsuffer me to remain.\u2019\n\n\u2018Why wouldn\u2019t he?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Because I rode my horse into the refectory, when the scholars were at\nmeat, to show the Saxon boys we Normans were not afraid of an abbot. It\nwas that very Saxon Hugh tempted me to do it, and we had not met since\nthat day. I thought I knew his voice even inside my helmet, and, for all\nthat our Lords fought, we each rejoiced we had not slain the other. He\nwalked by my side, and he told me how a Heathen God, as he believed, had\ngiven him his sword, but he said he had never heard it sing before. I\nremember I warned him to beware of sorcery and quick enchantments.\u2019 Sir\nRichard smiled to himself. \u2018I was very young\u2014very young!\n\n\u2018When we came to his house here we had almost forgotten that we had been\nat blows. It was near midnight, and the Great Hall was full of men and\nwomen waiting news. There I first saw his sister, the Lady \u00c6lueva, of whom\nhe had spoken to us in France. She cried out fiercely at me, and would\nhave had me hanged in that hour, but her brother said that I had spared\nhis life\u2014he said not how he saved mine from his Saxons\u2014and that our Duke\nhad won the day; and even while they wrangled over my poor body, of a\nsudden he fell down in a swoon from his wounds.\n\n\u2018\u201cThis is _thy fault_,\u201d said the Lady \u00c6lueva to me, and she kneeled above\nhim and called for wine and cloths.\n\n\u2018\u201cIf I had known,\u201d I answered, \u201che should have ridden and I walked. But he\nset me on my horse; he made no complaint; he walked beside me and spoke\nmerrily throughout. I pray I have done him no harm.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThou hast need to pray,\u201d she said, catching up her underlip. \u201cIf he\ndies, thou shalt hang!\u201d\n\n\u2018They bore off Hugh to his chamber; but three tall men of the house bound\nme and set me under the beam of the Great Hall with a rope round my neck.\nThe end of the rope they flung over the beam, and they sat them down by\nthe fire to wait word whether Hugh lived or died. They cracked nuts with\ntheir knife-hilts the while.\u2019\n\n\u2018And how did you feel?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Very weary; but I did heartily pray for my schoolmate Hugh his health.\nAbout noon I heard horses in the valley, and the three men loosed my ropes\nand fled out, and De Aquila\u2019s men rode up. Gilbert de Aquila came with\nthem, for it was his boast that, like his father, he forgot no man that\nserved him. He was little, like his father, but terrible, with a nose like\nan eagle\u2019s nose and yellow eyes like an eagle. He rode tall\nwar-horses\u2014roans, which he bred himself\u2014and he could never abide to be\nhelped into the saddle. He saw the rope hanging from the beam and laughed,\nand his men laughed, for I was too stiff to rise.\n\n\u2018\u201cThis is poor entertainment for a Norman knight,\u201d he said, \u201cbut, such as\nit is, let us be grateful. Show me, boy, to whom thou owest most, and we\nwill pay them out of hand.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018What did he mean? To kill \u2019em?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Assuredly. But I looked at the Lady \u00c6lueva where she stood among her\nmaids, and her brother beside her. De Aquila\u2019s men had driven them all\ninto the Great Hall.\u2019\n\n\u2018Was she pretty?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018In all my life I had never seen woman fit to strew rushes before my Lady\n\u00c6lueva,\u2019 the knight replied, quite simply and quietly. \u2018As I looked at her\nI thought I might save her and her house by a jest.\n\n\u2018\u201cSeeing that I came somewhat hastily and without warning,\u201d said I to De\nAquila, \u201cI have no fault to find with the courtesy that these Saxons have\nshown me.\u201d But my voice shook. It is\u2014it was not good to jest with that\nlittle man.\n\n\u2018All were silent awhile, till De Aquila laughed. \u201cLook, men\u2014a miracle!\u201d\nsaid he. \u201cThe fight is scarce sped, my father is not yet buried, and here\nwe find our youngest knight already set down in his Manor, while his\nSaxons\u2014ye can see it in their fat faces\u2014have paid him homage and service!\nBy the Saints,\u201d he said, rubbing his nose, \u201cI never thought England would\nbe so easy won! Surely I can do no less than give the lad what he has\ntaken. This Manor shall be thine, boy,\u201d he said, \u201ctill I come again, or\ntill thou art slain. Now, mount, men, and ride. We follow our Duke into\nKent to make him King of England.\u201d\n\n\u2018He drew me with him to the door while they brought his horse\u2014a lean roan,\ntaller than my Swallow here, but not so well girthed.\n\n\u2018\u201cHark to me,\u201d he said, fretting with his great war-gloves. \u201cI have given\nthee this Manor, which is a Saxon hornets\u2019 nest, and I think thou wilt be\nslain in a month\u2014as my father was slain. Yet if thou canst keep the roof\non the hall, the thatch on the barn, and the plough in the furrow till I\ncome back, thou shalt hold the Manor from me; for the Duke has promised\nour Earl Mortain all the lands by Pevensey, and Mortain will give me of\nthem what he would have given my father. God knows if thou or I shall live\ntill England is won; but remember, boy, that here and now fighting is\nfoolishness and\u201d\u2014he reached for the reins\u2014\u201ccraft and cunning is all.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAlas, I have no cunning,\u201d said I.\n\n\u2018\u201cNot yet,\u201d said he, hopping abroad, foot in stirrup, and poking his horse\nin the belly with his toe. \u201cNot yet, but I think thou hast a good teacher.\nFarewell! Hold the Manor and live. Lose the Manor and hang,\u201d he said, and\nspurred out, his shield-straps squeaking behind him.\n\n\u2018So, children, here was I, little more than a boy, and Santlache fight not\ntwo days old, left alone with my thirty men-at-arms, in a land I knew not,\namong a people whose tongue I could not speak, to hold down the land which\nI had taken from them.\u2019\n\n\u2018And that was here at home?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Yes, here. See! From the Upper Ford, Weland\u2019s Ford, to the Lower Ford, by\nthe Belle All\u00e9e, west and east it ran half a league. From the Beacon of\nBrunanburgh behind us here, south and north it ran a full league\u2014and all\nthe woods were full of broken men from Santlache, Saxon thieves, Norman\nplunderers, robbers, and deerstealers. A hornets\u2019 nest indeed!\n\n\u2018When De Aquila had gone, Hugh would have thanked me for saving their\nlives; but Lady \u00c6lueva said that I had done it only for the sake of\nreceiving the Manor.\n\n\u2018\u201cHow could I know that De Aquila would give it me?\u201d I said. \u201cIf I had\ntold him I had spent my night in your halter he would have burned the\nplace twice over by now.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIf any man had put _my_ neck in a rope,\u201d she said, \u201cI would have seen\nhis house burned thrice over before _I_ would have made terms.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cBut it was a woman,\u201d I said; and I laughed and she wept and said that I\nmocked her in her captivity.\n\n\u2018\u201cLady,\u201d said I, \u201cthere is no captive in this valley except one, and he is\nnot a Saxon.\u201d\n\n\u2018At this she cried that I was a Norman thief, who came with false, sweet\nwords, having intended from the first to turn her out in the fields to beg\nher bread. Into the fields! She had never seen the face of war!\n\n\u2018I was angry, and answered, \u201cThis much at least I can disprove, for I\nswear\u201d\u2014and on my sword-hilt I swore it in that place\u2014\u201cI swear I will never\nset foot in the Great Hall till the Lady \u00c6lueva herself shall summon me\nthere.\u201d\n\n\u2018She went away, saying nothing, and I walked out, and Hugh limped after\nme, whistling dolorously (that is a custom of the English), and we came\nupon the three Saxons that had bound me. They were now bound by my\nmen-at-arms, and behind them stood some fifty stark and sullen churls of\nthe House and the Manor, waiting to see what should fall. We heard De\nAquila\u2019s trumpets blow thin through the woods Kentward.\n\n\u2018\u201cShall we hang these?\u201d said my men.\n\n\u2018\u201cThen my churls will fight,\u201d said Hugh, beneath his breath; but I bade\nhim ask the three what mercy they hoped for.\n\n\u2018\u201cNone,\u201d said they all. \u201cShe bade us hang thee if our master died. And we\nwould have hanged thee. There is no more to it.\u201d\n\n\u2018As I stood doubting a woman ran down from the oak wood above the King\u2019s\nHill yonder, and cried out that some Normans were driving off the swine\nthere.\n\n\u2018\u201cNorman or Saxon,\u201d said I, \u201cwe must beat them back, or they will rob us\nevery day. Out at them with any arms ye have!\u201d So I loosed those three\ncarles and we ran together, my men-at-arms and the Saxons with bills and\nbows which they had hidden in the thatch of their huts, and Hugh led them.\nHalf-way up the King\u2019s Hill we found a false fellow from Picardy\u2014a sutler\nthat sold wine in the Duke\u2019s camp\u2014with a dead knight\u2019s shield on his arm,\na stolen horse under him, and some ten or twelve wastrels at his tail, all\ncutting and slashing at the pigs. We beat them off, and saved our pork.\nOne hundred and seventy pigs we saved in that great battle.\u2019 Sir Richard\nlaughed.\n\n\u2018That, then, was our first work together, and I bade Hugh tell his folk\nthat so would I deal with any man, knight or churl, Norman or Saxon, who\nstole as much as one egg from our valley. Said he to me, riding home:\n\u201cThou hast gone far to conquer England this evening.\u201d I answered: \u201cEngland\nmust be thine and mine, then. Help me, Hugh, to deal aright with this\npeople. Make them to know that if they slay me De Aquila will surely send\nto slay them, and he will put a worse man in my place.\u201d \u201cThat may well be\ntrue,\u201d said he, and gave me his hand. \u201cBetter the devil we know than the\ndevil we know not, till we can pack you Normans home.\u201d And so, too, said\nhis Saxons; and they laughed as we drove the pigs downhill. But I think\nsome of them, even then, began not to hate me.\u2019\n\n\u2018I like Brother Hugh,\u2019 said Una, softly.\n\n\u2018Beyond question he was the most perfect, courteous, valiant, tender, and\nwise knight that ever drew breath,\u2019 said Richard, caressing the sword. \u2018He\nhung up his sword\u2014this sword\u2014on the wall of the Great Hall, because he\nsaid it was fairly mine, and never he took it down till De Aquila\nreturned, as I shall presently show. For three months his men and mine\nguarded the valley, till all robbers and nightwalkers learned there was\nnothing to get from us save hard tack and a hanging. Side by side we\nfought against all who came\u2014thrice a week sometimes we fought\u2014against\nthieves and landless knights looking for good manors. Then we were in some\npeace, and I made shift by Hugh\u2019s help to govern the valley\u2014for all this\nvalley of yours was my Manor\u2014as a knight should. I kept the roof on the\nhall and the thatch on the barn, but.... The English are a bold people.\nHis Saxons would laugh and jest with Hugh, and Hugh with them, and\u2014this\nwas marvellous to me\u2014if even the meanest of them said that such and such a\nthing was the Custom of the Manor, then straightway would Hugh and such\nold men of the Manor as might be near forsake everything else to debate\nthe matter\u2014I have seen them stop the mill with the corn half ground\u2014and if\nthe custom or usage were proven to be as it was said, why, that was the\nend of it, even though it were flat against Hugh, his wish and command.\nWonderful!\u2019\n\n\u2018Aye,\u2019 said Puck, breaking in for the first time. \u2018The Custom of Old\nEngland was here before your Norman knights came, and it outlasted them,\nthough they fought against it cruel.\u2019\n\n\u2018Not I,\u2019 said Richard. \u2018I let the Saxons go their stubborn way, but when\nmy own men-at-arms, Normans not six months in England, stood up and told\nme what was the custom of the country, _then_ I was angry. Ah, good days!\nAh, wonderful people! And I loved them all.\u2019\n\nThe knight lifted his arms as though he would hug the whole dear valley,\nand Swallow, hearing the chink of his chain-mail, looked up and whinnied\nsoftly.\n\n\u2018At last,\u2019 he went on, \u2018after a year of striving and contriving and some\nlittle driving, De Aquila came to the valley, alone and without warning. I\nsaw him first at the Lower Ford, with a swine-herd\u2019s brat on his\nsaddle-bow.\n\n\u2018\u201cThere is no need for thee to give any account of thy stewardship,\u201d said\nhe. \u201cI have it all from the child here.\u201d And he told me how the young\nthing had stopped his tall horse at the Ford, by waving of a branch, and\ncrying that the way was barred. \u201cAnd if one bold, bare babe be enough to\nguard the Ford in these days, thou hast done well,\u201d said he, and puffed\nand wiped his head.\n\nHe pinched the child\u2019s cheek, and looked at our cattle in the flat by the\nbrook.\n\n\u2018\u201cBoth fat,\u201d said he, rubbing his nose. \u201cThis is craft and cunning such as\nI love. What did I tell thee when I rode away, boy?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHold the Manor or hang,\u201d said I. I had never forgotten it.\n\n\u2018\u201cTrue. And thou hast held.\u201d He clambered from his saddle and with sword\u2019s\npoint cut out a turf from the bank and gave it me where I kneeled.\u2019\n\nDan looked at Una, and Una looked at Dan.\n\n\u2018That\u2019s seizin,\u2019 said Puck, in a whisper.\n\n\u2018\u201cNow thou art lawfully seized of the Manor, Sir Richard,\u201d said he\u2014\u2019twas\nthe first time he ever called me that\u2014\u201cthou and thy heirs for ever. This\nmust serve till the King\u2019s clerks write out thy title on a parchment.\nEngland is all ours\u2014if we can hold it.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat service shall I pay?\u201d I asked, and I remember I was proud beyond\nwords.\n\n\u2018\u201cKnight\u2019s fee, boy, knight\u2019s fee!\u201d said he, hopping round his horse on\none foot. (Have I said he was little, and could not endure to be helped to\nhis saddle?) \u201cSix mounted men or twelve archers thou shalt send me\nwhenever I call for them, and\u2014where got you that corn?\u201d said he, for it\nwas near harvest, and our corn stood well. \u201cI have never seen such bright\nstraw. Send me three bags of the same seed yearly, and furthermore, in\nmemory of our last meeting\u2014with the rope round thy neck\u2014entertain me and\nmy men for two days of each year in the Great Hall of thy Manor.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAlas!\u201d said I, \u201cthen my Manor is already forfeit. I am under vow not to\nenter the Great Hall.\u201d And I told him what I had sworn to the Lady\n\u00c6lueva.\u2019\n\n\u2018And hadn\u2019t you ever been into the house since?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Never,\u2019 Sir Richard answered smiling. \u2018I had made me a little hut of wood\nup the hill, and there I did justice and slept.... De Aquila wheeled\naside, and his shield shook on his back. \u201cNo matter, boy,\u201d said he. \u201cI\nwill remit the homage for a year.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018He meant Sir Richard needn\u2019t give him dinner there the first year,\u2019 Puck\nexplained.\n\n\u2018De Aquila stayed with me in the hut and Hugh, who could read and write\nand cast accounts, showed him the roll of the Manor, in which were written\nall the names of our fields and men, and he asked a thousand questions\ntouching the land, the timber, the grazing, the mill, and the fish-ponds,\nand the worth of every man in the valley. But never he named the Lady\n\u00c6lueva\u2019s name, nor went he near the Great Hall. By night he drank with us\nin the hut. Yes, he sat on the straw like an eagle ruffled in her\nfeathers, his yellow eyes rolling above the cup, and he pounced in his\ntalk like an eagle, swooping from one thing to another, but always binding\nfast. Yes; he would lie still awhile, and then rustle in the straw, and\nspeak sometimes as though he were King William himself, and anon he would\nspeak in parables and tales, and if at once we saw not his meaning he\nwould yerk us in the ribs with his scabbarded sword.\n\n\u2018\u201cLook you, boys,\u201d said he, \u201cI am born out of my due time. Five hundred\nyears ago I would have made all England such an England as neither Dane,\nSaxon, nor Norman should have conquered. Five hundred years hence I should\nhave been such a councillor to Kings as the world hath never dreamed of.\n\u2019Tis all here,\u201d said he, tapping his big head, \u201cbut it hath no play in\nthis black age. Now Hugh here is a better man than thou art, Richard.\u201d He\nhad made his voice harsh and croaking, like a raven\u2019s.\n\n\u2018\u201cTruth,\u201d said I. \u201cBut for Hugh, his help and patience and long-suffering,\nI could never have kept the Manor.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNor thy life either,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cHugh has saved thee not once, but\na hundred times. Be still, Hugh!\u201d he said. \u201cDost thou know, Richard, why\nHugh slept, and why he still sleeps, among thy Norman men-at-arms?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cTo be near me,\u201d said I, for I thought this was truth.\n\n\u2018\u201cFool!\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cIt is because his Saxons have begged him to rise\nagainst thee, and to sweep every Norman out of the valley. No matter how I\nknow. It is truth. Therefore Hugh hath made himself an hostage for thy\nlife, well knowing that if any harm befell thee from his Saxons thy\nNormans would slay him without remedy. And this his Saxons know. It is\ntrue, Hugh?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIn some sort,\u201d said Hugh, shamefacedly; \u201cat least, it was true half a\nyear ago. My Saxons would not harm Richard now. I think they know him; but\nI judged it best to make sure.\u201d\n\n\u2018Look, children, what that man had done\u2014and I had never guessed it! Night\nafter night had he lain down among my men-at-arms, knowing that if one\nSaxon had lifted knife against me his life would have answered for mine.\n\n\u2018\u201cYes,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cAnd he is a swordless man.\u201d He pointed to Hugh\u2019s\nbelt, for Hugh had put away his sword\u2014did I tell you?\u2014the day after it\nflew from his hand at Santlache. He carried only the short knife and the\nlong-bow. \u201cSwordless and landless art thou, Hugh; and they call thee kin\nto Earl Godwin.\u201d (Hugh was indeed of Godwin\u2019s blood.) \u201cThe Manor that was\nthine was given to this boy and to his children for ever. Sit up and beg,\nfor he can turn thee out like a dog, Hugh!\u201d\n\n\u2018Hugh said nothing, but I heard his teeth grind, and I bade De Aquila, my\nown overlord, hold his peace, or I would stuff his words down his throat.\nThen De Aquila laughed till the tears ran down his face.\n\n\u2018\u201cI warned the King,\u201d said he, \u201cwhat would come of giving England to us\nNorman thieves. Here art thou, Richard, less than two days confirmed in\nthy Manor, and already thou hast risen against thy overlord. What shall we\ndo to him, _Sir_ Hugh?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI am a swordless man,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cDo not jest with me,\u201d and he laid his\nhead on his knees and groaned.\n\n\u2018\u201cThe greater fool thou,\u201d said De Aquila, and all his voice changed; \u201cfor\nI have given thee the Manor of Dallington up the hill this half-hour\nsince,\u201d and he yerked at Hugh with his scabbard across the straw.\n\n\u2018\u201cTo me?\u201d said Hugh. \u201cI am a Saxon, and, except that I love Richard here,\nI have not sworn fealty to any Norman.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIn God\u2019s good time, which because of my sins I shall not live to see,\nthere will be neither Saxon nor Norman in England,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cIf I\nknow men, thou art more faithful unsworn than a score of Normans I could\nname. Take Dallington, and join Sir Richard to fight me to-morrow, if it\nplease thee!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNay,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cI am no child. Where I take a gift, there I render\nservice\u201d; and he put his hands between De Aquila\u2019s, and swore to be\nfaithful, and, as I remember, I kissed him, and De Aquila kissed us both.\n\n\u2018We sat afterwards outside the hut while the sun rose, and De Aquila\nmarked our churls going to their work in the fields, and talked of holy\nthings, and how we should govern our Manors in time to come, and of\nhunting and of horse-breeding, and of the King\u2019s wisdom and unwisdom; for\nhe spoke to us as though we were in all sorts now his brothers. Anon a\nchurl stole up to me\u2014he was one of the three I had not hanged a year\nago\u2014and he bellowed\u2014which is the Saxon for whispering\u2014that the Lady \u00c6lueva\nwould speak to me at the Great House. She walked abroad daily in the\nManor, and it was her custom to send me word whither she went, that I\nmight set an archer or two behind and in front to guard her. Very often I\nmyself lay up in the woods and watched on her also.\n\n\u2018I went swiftly, and as I passed the great door it opened from within, and\nthere stood my Lady \u00c6lueva, and she said to me: \u201cSir Richard, will it\nplease you enter your Great Hall?\u201d Then she wept, but we were alone.\u2019\n\nThe knight was silent for a long time, his face turned across the valley,\nsmiling.\n\n\u2018Oh, well done!\u2019 said Una, and clapped her hands very softly. \u2018She was\nsorry, and she said so.\u2019\n\n\u2018Aye, she was sorry, and she said so,\u2019 said Sir Richard, coming back with\na little start. \u2018Very soon\u2014but _he_ said it was two full hours later\u2014De\nAquila rode to the door, with his shield new scoured (Hugh had cleansed\nit), and demanded entertainment, and called me a false knight, that would\nstarve his overlord to death. Then Hugh cried out that no man should work\nin the valley that day, and our Saxons blew horns, and set about feasting\nand drinking, and running of races, and dancing and singing; and De Aquila\nclimbed upon a horse-block and spoke to them in what he swore was good\nSaxon, but no man understood it. At night we feasted in the Great Hall,\nand when the harpers and the singers were gone we four sat late at the\nhigh table. As I remember, it was a warm night with a full moon, and De\nAquila bade Hugh take down his sword from the wall again, for the honour\nof the Manor of Dallington, and Hugh took it gladly enough. Dust lay on\nthe hilt, for I saw him blow it off.\n\n\u2018She and I sat talking a little apart, and at first we thought the harpers\nhad come back, for the Great Hall was filled with a rushing noise of\nmusic. De Aquila leaped up; but there was only the moonlight fretty on the\nfloor.\n\n\u2018\u201cHearken!\u201d said Hugh. \u201cIt is my sword,\u201d and as he belted it on the music\nceased.\n\n\u2018\u201cOver Gods, forbid that I should ever belt blade like that,\u201d said De\nAquila. \u201cWhat does it foretell?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThe Gods that made it may know. Last time it spoke was at Hastings, when\nI lost all my lands. Belike it sings now that I have new lands and am a\nman again,\u201d said Hugh.\n\n\u2018He loosed the blade a little and drove it back happily into the sheath,\nand the sword answered him low and crooningly, as\u2014as a woman would speak\nto a man, her head on his shoulder.\n\n\u2018Now that was the second time in all my life I heard this Sword sing.\u2019...\n\n\n\n\u2018Look!\u2019 said Una. \u2018There\u2019s mother coming down the Long Slip. What will she\nsay to Sir Richard? She can\u2019t help seeing him.\u2019\n\n\u2018And Puck can\u2019t magic us this time,\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Are you sure?\u2019 said Puck; and he leaned forward and whispered to Sir\nRichard, who, smiling, bowed his head.\n\n\u2018But what befell the sword and my brother Hugh I will tell on another\ntime,\u2019 said he, rising. \u2018Oh\u00e9, Swallow!\u2019\n\nThe great horse cantered up from the far end of the meadow, close to\nmother.\n\nThey heard mother say: \u2018Children, Gleason\u2019s old horse has broken into the\nmeadow again. Where did he get through?\u2019\n\n\u2018Just below Stone Bay,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018He tore down simple flobs of the bank!\nWe noticed it just now. And we\u2019ve caught no end of fish. We\u2019ve been at it\nall the afternoon.\u2019\n\nAnd they honestly believed that they had. They never noticed the Oak, Ash,\nand Thorn leaves that Puck had slyly thrown into their laps.\n\n\n\n\nSIR RICHARD\u2019S SONG\n\n\n  _I followed my Duke ere I was a lover,_\n    _To take from England fief and fee;_\n  _But now this game is the other way over\u2014_\n    _But now England hath taken me!_\n\n  _I had my horse, my shield and banner,_\n    _And a boy\u2019s heart, so whole and free;_\n  _But now I sing in another manner\u2014_\n    _But now England hath taken me!_\n\n  _As for my Father in his tower,_\n    _Asking news of my ship at sea;_\n  _He will remember his own hour\u2014_\n    _Tell him England hath taken me!_\n\n  _As for my Mother in her bower,_\n    _That rules my Father so cunningly;_\n  _She will remember a maiden\u2019s power\u2014_\n    _Tell her England hath taken me!_\n\n  _As for my Brother in Rouen city,_\n    _A nimble and naughty page is he;_\n  _But he will come to suffer and pity\u2014_\n    _Tell him England hath taken me!_\n\n  _As for my little Sister waiting_\n    _In the pleasant orchards of Normandie;_\n  _Tell her youth is the time for mating\u2014_\n    _Tell her England hath taken me!_\n\n  _As for my Comrades in camp and highway,_\n    _That lift their eyebrows scornfully;_\n  _Tell them their way is not my way\u2014_\n    _Tell them England hath taken me!_\n\n  _Kings and Princes and Barons famed,_\n    _Knights and Captains in your degree;_\n  _Hear me a little before I am blamed\u2014_\n    _Seeing England hath taken me!_\n\n  _Howso great man\u2019s strength be reckoned,_\n    _There are two things he cannot flee;_\n  _Love is the first, and Death is the second\u2014_\n    _And Love, in England, hath taken me!_\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE KNIGHTS OF THE JOYOUS VENTURE\n\n\n\n\nHARP SONG OF THE DANE WOMEN\n\n\n  _What is a woman that you forsake her,_\n  _And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,_\n  _To go with the old grey Widow-maker_?\n\n  _She has no house to lay a guest in\u2014_\n  _But one chill bed for all to rest in,_\n  _That the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in._\n\n  _She has no strong white arms to fold you,_\n  _But the ten-times-fingering weed to hold you_\n  _Bound on the rocks where the tide has rolled you._\n\n  _Yet, when the signs of summer thicken,_\n  _And the ice breaks, and the birch-buds quicken,_\n  _Yearly you turn from our side, and sicken\u2014_\n\n  _Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters,_\n  _You steal away to the lapping waters,_\n  _And look at your ship in her winter quarters._\n\n  _You forget our mirth, and talk at the tables,_\n  _The kine in the shed and the horse in the stables\u2014_\n  _To pitch her sides and go over her cables!_\n\n  _Then you drive out where the storm-clouds swallow:_\n  _And the sound of your oar-blades falling hollow,_\n  _Is all we have left through the months to follow!_\n\n  _Ah, what is Woman that you forsake her,_\n  _And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,_\n  _To go with the old grey Widow-maker?_\n\n\n\n\nTHE KNIGHTS OF THE JOYOUS VENTURE\n\n\nIt was too hot to run about in the open, so Dan asked their friend, old\nHobden, to take their own dinghy from the pond and put her on the brook at\nthe bottom of the garden. Her painted name was the _Daisy_, but for\nexploring expeditions she was the _Golden Hind_ or the _Long Serpent_, or\nsome such suitable name. Dan hiked and howked with a boat-hook (the brook\nwas too narrow for sculls), and Una punted with a piece of hop-pole. When\nthey came to a very shallow place (the _Golden Hind_ drew quite three\ninches of water) they disembarked and scuffled her over the gravel by her\ntow-rope, and when they reached the overgrown banks beyond the garden they\npulled themselves up stream by the low branches.\n\nThat day they intended to discover the North Cape like \u2018Othere, the old\nsea-captain,\u2019 in the book of verses which Una had brought with her; but on\naccount of the heat they changed it to a voyage up the Amazon and the\nsources of the Nile. Even on the shaded water the air was hot and heavy\nwith drowsy scents, while outside, through breaks in the trees, the\nsunshine burned the pasture like fire. The kingfisher was asleep on his\nwatching-branch, and the blackbirds scarcely took the trouble to dive into\nthe next bush. Dragon-flies wheeling and clashing were the only things at\nwork, except the moor-hens and a big Red Admiral who flapped down out of\nthe sunshine for a drink.\n\nWhen they reached Otter Pool the _Golden Hind_ grounded comfortably on a\nshallow, and they lay beneath a roof of close green, watching the water\ntrickle over the floodgates down the mossy brick chute from the\nmill-stream to the brook. A big trout\u2014the children knew him well\u2014rolled\nhead and shoulders at some fly that sailed round the bend, while once in\njust so often the brook rose a fraction of an inch against all the wet\npebbles, and they watched the slow draw and shiver of a breath of air\nthrough the tree-tops. Then the little voices of the slipping water began\nagain.\n\n\u2018It\u2019s like the shadows talking, isn\u2019t it?\u2019 said Una. She had given up\ntrying to read. Dan lay over the bows, trailing his hands in the current.\nThey heard feet on the gravel-bar that runs half across the pool and saw\nSir Richard Dalyngridge standing over them.\n\n\u2018Was yours a dangerous voyage?\u2019 he asked, smiling.\n\n\u2018She bumped a lot, sir,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018There\u2019s hardly any water this summer.\u2019\n\n\u2018Ah, the brook was deeper and wider when my children played at Danish\npirates. Are you pirate-folk?\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh, no. We gave up being pirates years ago,\u2019 explained Una. \u2018We\u2019re nearly\nalways explorers now. Sailing round the world, you know.\u2019\n\n\u2018Round?\u2019 said Sir Richard. He sat him in the comfortable crotch of the old\nash-root on the bank. \u2018How can it be round?\u2019\n\n\u2018Wasn\u2019t it in your books?\u2019 Dan suggested. He had been doing geography at\nhis last lesson.\n\n\u2018I can neither write nor read,\u2019 he replied. \u2018Canst _thou_ read, child?\u2019\n\n\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Dan, \u2018barring the very long words.\u2019\n\n\u2018Wonderful! Read to me, that I may hear for myself.\u2019\n\nDan flushed, but opened the book and began\u2014gabbling a little\u2014at \u2018The\nDiscoverer of the North Cape.\u2019\n\n  \u2018Othere, the old sea captain,\n  Who dwelt in Helgoland,\n  To Alfred, lover of truth,\n  Brought a snow-white walrus tooth,\n  That he held in his right hand.\u2019\n\n\u2018But\u2014but\u2014this I know! This is an old song! This I have heard sung! This is\na miracle,\u2019 Sir Richard interrupted. \u2018Nay, do not stop!\u2019 He leaned\nforward, and the shadows of the leaves slipped and slid upon his\nchain-mail.\n\n  \u2018I ploughed the land with horses,\n  But my heart was ill at ease,\n  For the old sea-faring men\n  Came to me now and then\n  With their Sagas of the Seas.\u2019\n\nHis hand fell on the hilt of the great sword. \u2018This is truth,\u2019 he cried,\n\u2018for so did it happen to me,\u2019 and he beat time delightedly to the tramp of\nverse after verse.\n\n  \u2018\u201cAnd now the land,\u201d said Othere,\n  \u201cBent southward suddenly,\n  And I followed the curving shore,\n  And ever southward bore\n  Into a nameless sea.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018A nameless sea!\u2019 he repeated. \u2018So did I\u2014so did Hugh and I.\u2019\n\n\u2018Where did you go? Tell us,\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Wait. Let me hear all first.\u2019 So Dan read to the poem\u2019s very end.\n\n\u2018Good,\u2019 said the knight. \u2018That is Othere\u2019s tale\u2014even as I have heard the\nmen in the Dane ships sing it. Not in those same valiant words, but\nsomething like to them.\u2019\n\n\u2018Have you ever explored North?\u2019 Dan shut the book.\n\n\u2018Nay. My venture was South. Farther South than any man has fared, Hugh and\nI went down with Witta and his heathen.\u2019 He jerked the tall sword forward,\nand leaned on it with both hands; but his eyes looked long past them.\n\n\u2018I thought you always lived here,\u2019 said Una, timidly.\n\n\u2018Yes; while my Lady \u00c6lueva lived. But she died. She died. Then, my eldest\nson being a man, I asked De Aquila\u2019s leave that he should hold the Manor\nwhile I went on some journey or pilgrimage\u2014to forget. De Aquila, whom the\nSecond William had made Warden of Pevensey in Earl Mortain\u2019s place, was\nvery old then, but still he rode his tall, roan horses, and in the saddle\nhe looked like a little white falcon. When Hugh, at Dallington over\nyonder, heard what I did, he sent for my second son, whom being unmarried\nhe had ever looked upon as his own child, and, by De Aquila\u2019s leave, gave\nhim the Manor of Dallington to hold till he should return. Then Hugh came\nwith me.\u2019\n\n\u2018When did this happen?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018That I can answer to the very day, for as we rode with De Aquila by\nPevensey\u2014have I said that he was Lord of Pevensey and of the Honour of the\nEagle?\u2014to the Bordeaux ship that fetched him his wines yearly out of\nFrance, a Marsh man ran to us crying that he had seen a great black goat\nwhich bore on his back the body of the King, and that the goat had spoken\nto him. On that same day Red William our King, the Conqueror\u2019s son, died\nof a secret arrow while he hunted in a forest. \u201cThis is a cross matter,\u201d\nsaid De Aquila, \u201cto meet on the threshold of a journey. If Red William be\ndead I may have to fight for my lands. Wait a little.\u201d\n\n\u2018My Lady being dead, I cared nothing for signs and omens, nor Hugh either.\nWe took that wine-ship to go to Bordeaux; but the wind failed while we\nwere yet in sight of Pevensey; a thick mist hid us, and we drifted with\nthe tide along the cliffs to the west. Our company was, for the most part,\nmerchants returning to France, and we were laden with wool and there were\nthree couple of tall hunting-dogs chained to the rail. Their master was a\nknight of Artois. His name I never learned, but his shield bore gold\npieces on a red ground, and he limped much as I do, from a wound which he\nhad got in his youth at Mantes siege. He served the Duke of Burgundy\nagainst the Moors in Spain, and was returning to that war with his dogs.\nHe sang us strange Moorish songs that first night, and half persuaded us\nto go with him. I was on pilgrimage to forget\u2014which is what no pilgrimage\nbrings. I think I would have gone, but....\n\n\u2018Look you how the life and fortune of man changes! Towards morning a Dane\nship, rowing silently, struck against us in the mist, and while we rolled\nhither and yon Hugh, leaning over the rail, fell outboard. I leaped after\nhim, and we two tumbled aboard the Dane, and were caught and bound ere we\ncould rise. Our own ship was swallowed up in the mist. I judge the Knight\nof the Gold Pieces muzzled his dogs with his cloak, lest they should give\ntongue and betray the merchants, for I heard their baying suddenly stop.\n\n\u2018We lay bound among the benches till morning, when the Danes dragged us to\nthe high deck by the steering-place, and their captain\u2014Witta, he was\ncalled\u2014turned us over with his foot. Bracelets of gold from elbow to\narmpit he wore, and his red hair was long as a woman\u2019s, and came down in\nplaited locks on his shoulder. He was stout, with bowed legs and long\narms. He spoiled us of all we had, but when he laid hand on Hugh\u2019s sword\nand saw the runes on the blade hastily he thrust it back. Yet his\ncovetousness overcame him and he tried again and again, and the third time\nthe Sword sang loud and angrily, so that the rowers leaned on their oars\nto listen. Here they all spoke together, screaming like gulls, and a\nYellow Man, such as I have never seen, came to the high deck and cut our\nbonds. He was yellow\u2014not from sickness, but by nature. Yellow as honey,\nand his eyes stood endwise in his head.\u2019\n\n\u2018How do you mean?\u2019 said Una, her chin on her hand.\n\n\u2018Thus,\u2019 said Sir Richard. He put a finger to the corner of each eye, and\npushed it up till his eyes narrowed to slits.\n\n\u2018Why, you look just like a Chinaman!\u2019 cried Dan. \u2018Was the man a Chinaman?\u2019\n\n\u2018I know not what that may be. Witta had found him half dead among ice on\nthe shores of Muscovy. _We_ thought he was a devil. He crawled before us\nand brought food in a silver dish which these sea-wolves had robbed from\nsome rich abbey, and Witta with his own hands gave us wine. He spoke a\nlittle in French, a little in South Saxon, and much in the Northman\u2019s\ntongue. We asked him to set us ashore, promising to pay him better ransom\nthan he would get price if he sold us to the Moors\u2014as once befell a knight\nof my acquaintance sailing from Flushing.\n\n\u2018\u201cNot by my father Guthrum\u2019s head,\u201d said he. \u201cThe Gods sent ye into my\nship for a luck-offering.\u201d\n\n\u2018At this I quaked, for I knew it was still the Dane\u2019s custom to sacrifice\ncaptives to their gods for fair weather.\n\n\u2018\u201cA plague on thy four long bones!\u201d said Hugh. \u201cWhat profit canst thou\nmake of poor old pilgrims that can neither work nor fight?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGods forbid I should fight against thee, poor Pilgrim with the Singing\nSword,\u201d said he. \u201cCome with us and be poor no more. Thy teeth are far\napart, which is a sure sign thou wilt travel and grow rich.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat if we will not come?\u201d said Hugh.\n\n\u2018\u201cSwim to England or France,\u201d said Witta. \u201cWe are midway between the two.\nUnless ye choose to drown yourselves no hair of your head will be harmed\nhere aboard. We think ye bring us luck, and I myself know the runes on\nthat Sword are good.\u201d He turned and bade them hoist sail.\n\n\u2018Hereafter all made way for us as we walked about the ship, and the ship\nwas full of wonders.\u2019\n\n\u2018What was she like?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Long, low, and narrow, bearing one mast with a red sail, and rowed by\nfifteen oars a side,\u2019 the knight answered. \u2018At her bows was a deck under\nwhich men might lie, and at her stern another shut off by a painted door\nfrom the rowers\u2019 benches. Here Hugh and I slept, with Witta and the Yellow\nMan, upon tapestries as soft as wool. I remember\u2019\u2014he laughed to\nhimself\u2014\u2018when first we entered there a loud voice cried, \u201cOut swords! Out\nswords! Kill, kill!\u201d Seeing us start Witta laughed, and showed us it was\nbut a great-beaked grey bird with a red tail. He sat her on his shoulder,\nand she called for bread and wine hoarsely, and prayed him to kiss her.\nYet she was no more than a silly bird. But\u2014ye knew this?\u2019 He looked at\ntheir smiling faces.\n\n\u2018We weren\u2019t laughing at you,\u2019 said Una. \u2018That must have been a parrot.\nIt\u2019s just what Pollies do.\u2019\n\n\u2018So we learned later. But here is another marvel. The Yellow Man, whose\nname was Kitai, had with him a brown box. In the box was a blue bowl with\nred marks upon the rim, and within the bowl, hanging from a fine thread,\nwas a piece of iron no thicker than that grass stem, and as long, maybe,\nas my spur, but straight. In this iron, said Witta, abode an Evil Spirit\nwhich Kitai, the Yellow Man, had brought by Art Magic out of his own\ncountry that lay three years\u2019 journey southward. The Evil Spirit strove\nday and night to return to his country, and therefore, look you, the iron\nneedle pointed continually to the South.\u2019\n\n\u2018South?\u2019 said Dan, suddenly, and put his hand into his pocket.\n\n\u2018With my own eyes I saw it. Every day and all day long, though the ship\nrolled, though the sun and the moon and the stars were hid, this blind\nSpirit in the iron knew whither it would go, and strained to the South.\nWitta called it the Wise Iron, because it showed him his way across the\nunknowable seas.\u2019 Again Sir Richard looked keenly at the children. \u2018How\nthink ye? Was it sorcery?\u2019\n\n\u2018Was it anything like this?\u2019 Dan fished out his old brass pocket-compass,\nthat generally lived with his knife and key-ring. \u2018The glass has got\ncracked, but the needle waggles all right, sir.\u2019\n\nThe knight drew a long breath of wonder. \u2018Yes, yes. The Wise Iron shook\nand swung in just this fashion. Now it is still. Now it points to the\nSouth.\u2019\n\n\u2018North,\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Nay, South! There is the South,\u2019 said Sir Richard. Then they both\nlaughed, for naturally when one end of a straight compass-needle points to\nthe North, the other must point to the South.\n\n\u2018T\u00e9,\u2019 said Sir Richard, clicking his tongue. \u2018There can be no sorcery if a\nchild carries it. Wherefore does it point South\u2014or North?\u2019\n\n\u2018Father says that nobody knows,\u2019 said Una.\n\nSir Richard looked relieved. \u2018Then it may still be magic. It was magic to\n_us_. And so we voyaged. When the wind served we hoisted sail, and lay all\nup along the windward rail, our shields on our backs to break the spray.\nWhen it failed, they rowed with long oars; the Yellow Man sat by the Wise\nIron, and Witta steered. At first I feared the great white-flowering\nwaves, but as I saw how wisely Witta led his ship among them I grew\nbolder. Hugh liked it well from the first. My skill is not upon the water;\nand rocks, and whirlpools such as we saw by the West Isles of France,\nwhere an oar caught on a rock and broke, are much against my stomach. We\nsailed South across a stormy sea, where by moonlight, between clouds, we\nsaw a Flanders ship roll clean over and sink. Again, though Hugh laboured\nwith Witta all night, I lay under the deck with the Talking Bird, and\ncared not whether I lived or died. There is a sickness of the sea which,\nfor three days, is pure death! When we next saw land Witta said it was\nSpain, and we stood out to sea. That coast was full of ships busy in the\nDuke\u2019s war against the Moors, and we feared to be hanged by the Duke\u2019s men\nor sold into slavery by the Moors. So we put into a small harbour which\nWitta knew. At night men came down with loaded mules, and Witta exchanged\namber out of the North against little wedges of iron and packets of beads\nin earthen pots. The pots he put under the decks, and the wedges of iron\nhe laid on the bottom of the ship after he had cast out the stones and\nshingle which till then had been our ballast. Wine, too, he bought for\nlumps of sweet-smelling grey amber\u2014a little morsel no bigger than a\nthumbnail purchased a cask of wine. But I speak like a merchant.\u2019\n\n\u2018No, no! Tell us what you had to eat,\u2019 cried Dan.\n\n\u2018Meat dried in the sun, and dried fish and ground beans, Witta took in;\nand corded frails of a certain sweet, soft fruit, which the Moors use,\nwhich is like paste of figs, but with thin, long stones. Aha! Dates is the\nname.\n\n\u2018\u201cNow,\u201d said Witta, when the ship was loaded, \u201cI counsel you strangers, to\npray to your gods, for from here on our road is No Man\u2019s road.\u201d He and his\nmen killed a black goat for sacrifice on the bows; and the Yellow Man\nbrought out a small, smiling image of dull-green glass and burned incense\nbefore it. Hugh and I commended ourselves to God, and Saint Bartholomew,\nand Our Lady of the Assumption, who was specially dear to my Lady. We were\nnot young, but I think no shame to say, when as we drove out of that\nsecret harbour at sunrise over a still sea, we two rejoiced and sang as\ndid the knights of old when they followed our great Duke to England. Yet\nwas our leader an heathen pirate; all our proud fleet but one galley\nperilously overloaded; for guidance we leaned on a pagan sorcerer; and our\nport was beyond the world\u2019s end. Witta told us that his father Guthrum had\nonce in his life rowed along the shores of Africa to a land where naked\nmen sold gold for iron and beads. There had he bought much gold, and no\nfew elephants\u2019 teeth, and thither by help of the Wise Iron would Witta go.\nWitta feared nothing\u2014except to be poor.\n\n\u2018\u201cMy father told me,\u201d said Witta, \u201cthat a great Shoal runs three days\u2019\nsail out from that land, and south of the shoal lies a Forest which grows\nin the sea. South and east of the Forest my father came to a place where\nthe men hid gold in their hair; but all that country, he said, was full of\nDevils who lived in trees, and tore folk limb from limb. How think ye?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGold or no gold,\u201d said Hugh, fingering his sword, \u201cit is a joyous\nventure. Have at these devils of thine, Witta!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cVenture!\u201d said Witta, sourly. \u201cI am only a poor sea-thief. I do not set\nmy life adrift on a plank for joy, or the venture. Once I beach ship again\nat Stavanger, and feel the wife\u2019s arms round my neck, I\u2019ll seek no more\nventures. A ship is heavier care than a wife or cattle.\u201d\n\n\u2018He leaped down among the rowers, chiding them for their little strength\nand their great stomachs. Yet Witta was a wolf in fight, and a very fox in\ncunning.\n\n\u2018We were driven South by a storm, and for three days and three nights he\ntook the stern-oar and threddled the longship through the sea. When it\nrose beyond measure he brake a pot of whale\u2019s oil upon the water, which\nwonderfully smoothed it, and in that anointed patch he turned her head to\nthe wind and threw out oars at the end of a rope, to make, he said, an\nanchor at which we lay rolling sorely, but dry. This craft his father\nGuthrum had shown him. He knew, too, all the Leech-Book of Bald, who was a\nwise doctor, and he knew the Ship-Book of Hlaf the Woman, who robbed\nEgypt. He knew all the care of a ship.\n\n\u2018After the storm we saw a mountain whose top was covered with snow and\npierced the clouds. The grasses under this mountain, boiled and eaten, are\na good cure for soreness of the gums and swelled ankles. We lay there\neight days, till men in skins threw stones at us. When the heat increased\nWitta spread a cloth on bent sticks above the rowers, for the wind failed\nbetween the Island of the Mountain and the shore of Africa, which is east\nof it. That shore is sandy, and we rowed along it within three bowshots.\nHere we saw whales, and fish in the shape of shields, but longer than our\nship. Some slept, some opened their mouths at us, and some danced on the\nhot waters. The water was hot to the hand, and the sky was hidden by hot,\ngrey mists, out of which blew a fine dust that whitened our hair and\nbeards of a morning. Here, too, were fish that flew in the air like birds.\nThey would fall on the laps of the rowers, and when we went ashore we\nwould roast and eat them.\u2019\n\nThe knight paused to see if the children doubted him, but they only nodded\nand said, \u2018Go on.\u2019\n\n\u2018The yellow land lay on our left, the grey sea on our right. Knight though\nI was, I pulled my oar amongst the rowers. I caught seaweed and dried it,\nand stuffed it between the pots of beads lest they should break.\nKnighthood is for the land. At sea, look you, a man is but a spurless\nrider on a bridleless horse. I learned to make strong knots in ropes\u2014yes,\nand to join two ropes end to end, so that even Witta could scarcely see\nwhere they had been married. But Hugh had tenfold more sea-cunning than I.\nWitta gave him charge of the rowers of the left side. Thorkild of Borkum,\na man with a broken nose, that wore a Norman steel cap, had the rowers of\nthe right, and each side rowed and sang against the other. They saw that\nno man was idle. Truly, as Hugh said, and Witta would laugh at him, a ship\nis all more care than a Manor.\n\n\u2018How? Thus. There was water to fetch from the shore when we could find it,\nas well as wild fruit and grasses, and sand for scrubbing of the decks and\nbenches to keep them sweet. Also we hauled the ship out on low islands and\nemptied all her gear, even to the iron wedges, and burned off the weed,\nthat had grown on her, with torches of rush, and smoked below the decks\nwith rushes dampened in salt water, as Hlaf the Woman orders in her\nShip-Book. Once when we were thus stripped, and the ship lay propped on\nher keel, the bird cried, \u201cOut swords!\u201d as though she saw an enemy. Witta\nvowed he would wring her neck.\u2019\n\n\u2018Poor Polly! Did he?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Nay. She was the ship\u2019s bird. She could call all the rowers by name....\nThose were good days\u2014for a wifeless man\u2014with Witta and his heathen\u2014beyond\nthe world\u2019s end.... After many weeks we came on the Great Shoal which\nstretched, as Witta\u2019s father had said, far out to sea. We skirted it till\nwe were giddy with the sight and dizzy with the sound of bars and\nbreakers; and when we reached land again we found a naked black people\ndwelling among woods, who for one wedge of iron loaded us with fruits and\ngrasses and eggs. Witta scratched his head at them in sign he would buy\ngold. They had no gold, but they understood the sign (all the gold-traders\nhide their gold in their thick hair), for they pointed along the coast.\nThey beat, too, on their chests with their clenched hands, and that, if we\nhad known it, was an evil sign.\u2019\n\n\u2018What did it mean?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Patience. Ye shall hear. We followed the coast eastward sixteen days\n(counting time by sword-cuts on the helm-rail) till we came to the Forest\nin the Sea. Trees grew out of mud, arched upon lean and high roots, and\nmany muddy water-ways ran allwhither into darkness under the trees. Here\nwe lost the sun. We followed the winding channels between the trees, and\nwhere we could not row we laid hold of the crusted roots and hauled\nourselves along. The water was foul, and great glittering flies tormented\nus. Morning and evening a blue mist covered the mud, which bred fevers.\nFour of our rowers sickened, and were bound to their benches, lest they\nshould leap overboard and be eaten by the monsters of the mud. The Yellow\nMan lay sick beside the Wise Iron, rolling his head and talking in his own\ntongue. Only the Bird throve. She sat on Witta\u2019s shoulder and screamed in\nthat noisome, silent darkness. Yes; I think it was the silence we feared.\u2019\n\nHe paused to listen to the comfortable home noises of the brook.\n\n\u2018When we had lost count of time among those black gullies and swashes, we\nheard, as it were, a drum beat far off, and following it we broke into a\nbroad, brown river by a hut in a clearing among fields of pumkins. We\nthanked God to see the sun again. The people of the village gave the good\nwelcome, and Witta scratched his head at them (for gold), and showed them\nour iron and beads. They ran to the bank\u2014we were still in the ship\u2014and\npointed to our swords and bows, for always when near shore we lay armed.\nSoon they fetched store of gold in bars and in dust from their huts, and\nsome great blackened elephant teeth. These they piled on the bank, as\nthough to tempt us, and made signs of dealing blows in battle, and pointed\nup to the tree tops, and to the forest behind. Their captain or chief\nsorcerer then beat on his chest with his fists, and gnashed his teeth.\n\n\u2018Said Thorkild of Borkum: \u201cDo they mean we must fight for all this gear?\u201d\nand he half drew his sword.\n\n\u2018\u201cNay,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cI think they ask us to league against some enemy.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI like this not,\u201d said Witta, of a sudden. \u201cBack into midstream.\u201d\n\n\u2018So we did, and sat still all, watching the black folk and the gold they\npiled on the bank. Again we heard drums beat in the forest, and the people\nfled to their huts, leaving the gold unguarded.\n\n\u2018Then Hugh, at the bows, pointed without speech, and we saw a great Devil\ncome out of the forest. He shaded his brows with his hand, and moistened\nhis pink tongue between his lips\u2014thus.\u2019\n\n\u2018A Devil!\u2019 said Dan, delightfully horrified.\n\n\u2018Yea. Taller than a man; covered with reddish hair. When he had well\nregarded our ship, he beat on his chest with his fists till it sounded\nlike rolling drums, and came to the bank swinging all his body between his\nlong arms, and gnashed his teeth at us. Hugh loosed arrow, and pierced him\nthrough the throat. He fell roaring, and three other Devils ran out of the\nforest and hauled him into a tall tree out of sight. Anon they cast down\nthe blood-stained arrow, and lamented together among the leaves. Witta saw\nthe gold on the bank; he was loath to leave it. \u201cSirs,\u201d said he (no man\nhad spoken till then), \u201cyonder is that we have come so far and so\npainfully to find, laid out to our very hand. Let us row in while these\nDevils bewail themselves, and at least bear off what we may.\u201d\n\n\u2018Bold as a wolf, cunning as a fox was Witta! He set four archers on the\nforedeck to shoot the Devils if they should leap from the tree, which was\nclose to the bank. He manned ten oars a side, and bade them watch his hand\nto row in or back out, and so coaxed he them toward the bank. But none\nwould set foot ashore, though the gold was within ten paces. No man is\nhasty to his hanging. They whimpered at their oars like beaten hounds, and\nWitta bit his fingers for rage.\n\n\u2018Said Hugh of a sudden, \u201cHark!\u201d At first we thought it was the buzzing of\nthe glittering flies on the water, but it grew loud and fierce, so that\nall men heard.\u2019\n\n\u2018What?\u2019 said Dan and Una.\n\n\u2018It was the sword.\u2019 Sir Richard patted the smooth hilt. \u2018It sang as a Dane\nsings before battle. \u201cI go,\u201d said Hugh, and he leaped from the bows and\nfell among the gold. I was afraid to my four bones\u2019 marrow, but for\nshame\u2019s sake I followed, and Thorkild of Borkum leaped after me. None\nother came. \u201cBlame me not,\u201d cried Witta behind us, \u201cI must abide by my\nship.\u201d We three had no time to blame or praise. We stooped to the gold and\nthrew it back over our shoulders, one hand on our swords and one eye on\nthe tree, which nigh overhung us.\n\n\u2018I know not how the Devils leaped down, or how the fight began. I heard\nHugh cry: \u201cOut! out!\u201d as though he were at Santlache again; I saw\nThorkild\u2019s steel cap smitten off his head by a great hairy hand, and I\nfelt an arrow from the ship whistle past my ear. They say that till Witta\ntook his sword to the rowers he could not bring his ship in shore; and\neach one of the four archers said afterwards that he alone had pierced the\nDevil that fought me. I do not know. I went to it in my mail-shirt, which\nsaved my skin. With long-sword and belt-dagger I fought for the life\nagainst a Devil whose very feet were hands, and who whirled me back and\nforth like a dead branch. He had me by the waist, my arms to my side, when\nan arrow from the ship pierced him between the shoulders, and he loosened\ngrip. I passed my sword twice through him, and he crutched himself away\nbetween his long arms, coughing and moaning. Next, as I remember, I saw\nThorkild of Borkum bareheaded and smiling, leaping up and down before a\nDevil that leaped and gnashed his teeth. Then Hugh passed, his sword\nshifted to his left hand, and I wondered why I had not known that Hugh was\na left-handed man; and thereafter I remembered nothing till I felt spray\non my face, and we were in sunshine on the open sea. That was twenty days\nafter.\u2019\n\n\u2018What had happened? Did Hugh die?\u2019 the children asked.\n\n\u2018Never was such a fight fought by christened man,\u2019 said Sir Richard. \u2018An\narrow from the ship had saved me from my Devil, and Thorkild of Borkum had\ngiven back before his Devil, till the bowmen on the ship could shoot it\nall full of arrows from near by; but Hugh\u2019s Devil was cunning, and had\nkept behind trees, where no arrow could reach. Body to body there, by\nstark strength of sword and hand, had Hugh slain him, and, dying, the\nThing had clenched his teeth on the sword. Judge what teeth they were!\u2019\n\nSir Richard turned the sword again that the children might see the two\ngreat chiselled gouges on either side of the blade.\n\n\u2018Those same teeth met in Hugh\u2019s right arm and side,\u2019 Sir Richard went on.\n\u2018I? Oh, I had no more than a broken foot and a fever. Thorkild\u2019s ear was\nbitten, but Hugh\u2019s arm and side clean withered away. I saw him where he\nlay along, sucking a fruit in his left hand. His flesh was wasted off his\nbones, his hair was patched with white, and his hand was blue-veined like\na woman\u2019s. He put his left hand round my neck and whispered, \u201cTake my\nsword. It has been thine since Hastings, O, my brother, but I can never\nhold hilt again.\u201d We lay there on the high deck talking of Santlache and,\nI think, of every day since Santlache, and it came so that we both wept. I\nwas weak, and he little more than a shadow.\n\n\u2018\u201cNay\u2014nay,\u201d said Witta, at the helm-rail. \u201cGold is a good right arm to any\nman. Look\u2014look at the gold!\u201d He bade Thorkild show us the gold and the\nelephants\u2019 teeth, as though we had been children. He had brought away all\nthe gold on the bank, and twice as much more, that the people of the\nvillage gave him for slaying the Devils. They worshipped us as gods,\nThorkild told me: it was one of their old women healed up Hugh\u2019s poor\narm.\u2019\n\n\u2018How much gold did you get?\u2019 asked Dan.\n\n\u2018How can I say? Where we came out with wedges of iron under the rowers\u2019\nfeet we returned with wedges of gold hidden beneath planks. There was dust\nof gold in packages where we slept; and along the side and crosswise under\nthe benches we lashed the blackened elephants\u2019 teeth.\n\n\u2018\u201cI had sooner have my right arm,\u201d said Hugh, when he had seen all.\n\n\u2018\u201cAhai! That was my fault,\u201d said Witta. \u201cI should have taken ransom and\nlanded you in France when first you came aboard, ten months ago.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIt is over-late now,\u201d said Hugh, laughing.\n\n\u2018Witta plucked at his long shoulder-lock. \u201cBut think!\u201d said he. \u201cIf I had\nlet ye go\u2014which I swear I would never have done, for I love ye more than\nbrothers\u2014if I had let ye go, by now ye might have been horribly slain by\nsome mere Moor in the Duke of Burgundy\u2019s war, or ye might have been\nmurdered by land-thieves, or ye might have died of the plague at an inn.\nThink of this and do not blame me overmuch, Hugh. See! I will only take a\nhalf of the gold.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI blame thee not at all, Witta,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cIt was a joyous venture,\nand we thirty-five here have done what never men have done. If I live till\nEngland, I will build me a stout keep over Dallington out of my share.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI will buy cattle and amber and warm red cloth for the wife,\u201d said\nWitta, \u201cand I will hold all the land at the head of Stavanger Fiord. Many\nwill fight for me now. But first we must turn North, and with this honest\ntreasure aboard I pray we meet no pirate ships.\u201d\n\n\u2018We did not laugh. We were careful. We were afraid lest we should lose one\ngrain of our gold for which we had fought Devils.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhere is the Sorcerer?\u201d said I, for Witta was looking at the Wise Iron\nin the box, and I could not see the Yellow Man.\n\n\u2018\u201cHe has gone to his own country,\u201d said he. \u201cHe rose up in the night while\nwe were beating out of that forest in the mud, and said that he could see\nit behind the trees. He leaped out on to the mud, and did not answer when\nwe called; so we called no more. He left the Wise Iron, which is all that\nI care for\u2014and see, the Spirit still points to the South!\u201d\n\n\u2018We were troubled for fear that the Wise Iron should fail us now that its\nYellow Man had gone, and when we saw the Spirit still served us we grew\nafraid of too strong winds, and of shoals, and of careless leaping fish,\nand of all the people on all the shores where we landed.\u2019\n\n\u2018Why?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Because of the gold\u2014because of our gold. Gold changes men altogether.\nThorkild of Borkum did not change. He laughed at Witta for his fears, and\nat us for our counselling Witta to furl sail when the ship pitched at all.\n\n\u2018\u201cBetter be drowned out of hand,\u201d said Thorkild of Borkum, \u201cthan go tied\nto a deck-load of yellow dust.\u201d\n\n\u2018He was a landless man, and had been slave to some King in the East. He\nwould have beaten out the gold into deep bands to put round the oars, and\nround the prow.\n\n\u2018Yet, though he vexed himself for the gold, Witta waited upon Hugh like a\nwoman, lending him his shoulder when the ship rolled, and tying of ropes\nfrom side to side that Hugh might hold by them. But for Hugh, he said\u2014and\nso did all his men\u2014they would never have won the gold. I remember Witta\nmade a little, thin gold ring for our Bird to swing in. Three months we\nrowed and sailed and went ashore for fruits or to clean the ship. When we\nsaw wild horsemen, riding among sand-dunes, flourishing spears we knew we\nwere on the Moors\u2019 coast, and stood over north to Spain; and a strong\nsouth-west wind bore us in ten days to a coast of high red rocks, where we\nheard a hunting-horn blow among the yellow gorse and knew it was England.\n\n\u2018\u201cNow find ye Pevensey yourselves,\u201d said Witta. \u201cI love not these narrow\nship-filled seas.\u201d\n\n\u2018He set the dried, salted head of the Devil, which Hugh had killed, high\non our prow, and all boats fled from us. Yet, for our gold\u2019s sake, we were\nmore afraid than they. We crept along the coast by night till we came to\nthe chalk cliffs, and so east to Pevensey. Witta would not come ashore\nwith us, though Hugh promised him wine at Dallington enough to swim in. He\nwas on fire to see his wife, and ran into the Marsh after sunset, and\nthere he left us and our share of gold, and backed out on the same tide.\nHe made no promise; he swore no oath; he looked for no thanks; but to\nHugh, an armless man, and to me, an old cripple whom he could have flung\ninto the sea, he passed over wedge upon wedge, packet upon packet of gold\nand dust of gold, and only ceased when we would take no more. As he\nstooped from the rail to bid us farewell he stripped off his right-arm\nbracelets and put them all on Hugh\u2019s left, and he kissed Hugh on the\ncheek. I think when Thorkild of Borkum bade the rowers give way we were\nnear weeping. It is true that Witta was an heathen and a pirate; true it\nis he held us by force many months in his ship, but I loved that\nbow-legged, blue-eyed man for his great boldness, his cunning, his skill,\nand, beyond all, for his simplicity.\u2019\n\n\u2018Did he get home all right?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018I never knew. We saw him hoist sail under the moon-track and stand away.\nI have prayed that he found his wife and the children.\u2019\n\n\u2018And what did you do?\u2019\n\n\u2018We waited on the Marsh till the day. Then I sat by the gold, all tied in\nan old sail, while Hugh went to Pevensey, and De Aquila sent us horses.\u2019\n\nSir Richard crossed hands on his sword-hilt, and stared down stream\nthrough the soft warm shadows.\n\n\u2018A whole shipload of gold!\u2019 said Una, looking at the little _Golden Hind_.\n\u2018But I\u2019m glad I didn\u2019t see the Devils.\u2019\n\n\u2018I don\u2019t believe they were Devils,\u2019 Dan whispered back.\n\n\u2018Eh?\u2019 said Sir Richard. \u2018Witta\u2019s father warned him they were\nunquestionable Devils. One must believe one\u2019s father, and not one\u2019s\nchildren. What were my Devils, then?\u2019\n\nDan flushed all over. \u2018I\u2014I only thought,\u2019 he stammered; \u2018I\u2019ve got a book\ncalled _The Gorilla Hunters_\u2014it\u2019s a continuation of _Coral Island_,\nsir\u2014and it says there that the gorillas (they\u2019re big monkeys, you know)\nwere always chewing iron up.\u2019\n\n\u2018Not always,\u2019 said Una. \u2018Only twice.\u2019 They had been reading _The Gorilla\nHunters_ in the orchard.\n\n\u2018Well, anyhow, they always drummed on their chests, like Sir Richard\u2019s\ndid, before they went for people. And they built houses in trees, too.\u2019\n\n\u2018Ha!\u2019 Sir Richard opened his eyes. \u2018Houses like flat nests did our Devils\nmake, where their imps lay and looked at us. I did not see them (I was\nsick after the fight), but Witta told me and, lo, ye know it also?\nWonderful! Were our Devils only nest-building apes? Is there no sorcery\nleft in the world?\u2019\n\n\u2018I don\u2019t know,\u2019 answered Dan, uncomfortably. \u2018I\u2019ve seen a man take rabbits\nout of a hat, and he told us we could see how he did it, if we watched\nhard. And we did.\u2019\n\n\u2018But we didn\u2019t,\u2019 said Una sighing. \u2018Oh! there\u2019s Puck!\u2019\n\nThe little fellow, brown and smiling, peered between two stems of an ash,\nnodded, and slid down the bank into the cool beside them.\n\n\u2018No sorcery, Sir Richard?\u2019 he laughed, and blew on a full dandelion head\nhe had picked.\n\n\u2018They tell me that Witta\u2019s Wise Iron was a toy. The boy carries such an\nIron with him. They tell me our Devils were apes, called gorillas!\u2019 said\nSir Richard, indignantly.\n\n\u2018That is the sorcery of books,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018I warned thee they were wise\nchildren. All people can be wise by reading of books.\u2019\n\n\u2018But are the books true?\u2019 Sir Richard frowned. \u2018I like not all this\nreading and writing.\u2019\n\n\u2018Ye-es,\u2019 said Puck, holding the naked dandelion head at arm\u2019s length. \u2018But\nif we hang all fellows who write falsely, why did De Aquila not begin with\nGilbert, the Clerk? _He_ was false enough.\u2019\n\n\u2018Poor false Gilbert. Yet in his fashion, he was bold,\u2019 said Sir Richard.\n\n\u2018What did he do?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018He wrote,\u2019 said Sir Richard. \u2018Is the tale meet for children, think you?\u2019\nHe looked at Puck; but, \u2018Tell us! Tell us!\u2019 cried Dan and Una together.\n\n\n\n\nTHORKILD\u2019S SONG\n\n\n  _There is no wind along these seas,_\n    Out oars for Stavanger!\n    Forward all for Stavanger!\n  _So we must wake the white-ash breeze,_\n    Let fall for Stavanger!\n    A long pull for Stavanger!\n\n  _Oh, hear the benches creak and strain!_\n    (A long pull for Stavanger!)\n  _She thinks she smells the Northland rain!_\n    (A long pull for Stavanger!)\n\n  _She thinks she smells the Northland snow,_\n  _And she\u2019s as glad as we to go!_\n\n  _She thinks she smells the Northland rime,_\n  _And the dear dark nights of winter-time._\n\n  _Her very bolts are sick for shore,_\n  _And we\u2014we want it ten times more!_\n\n  _Hoe\u2014all you Gods that love brave men,_\n  _Send us a three-reef gale again!_\n\n  _Send us a gale, and watch us come,_\n  _With close-cropped canvas slashing home!_\n\n  But\u2014_there\u2019s no wind in all these seas,_\n    A long pull for Stavanger!\n  _So we must wake the white-ash breeze,_\n    A long pull for Stavanger!\n\n\n\n\n\nOLD MEN AT PEVENSEY\n\n\n\n\nOLD MEN AT PEVENSEY\n\n\n\u2018It has nought to do with apes or devils,\u2019 Sir Richard went on, in an\nundertone. \u2018It concerns De Aquila, than whom there was never bolder nor\ncraftier, nor more hardy knight born. And, remember, he was an old, old\nman at that time.\u2019\n\n\u2018When?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018When we came back from sailing with Witta.\u2019\n\n\u2018What did you do with your gold?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Have patience. Link by link is chain-mail made. I will tell all in its\nplace. We bore the gold to Pevensey on horseback\u2014three loads of it\u2014and\nthen up to the north chamber, above the Great Hall of Pevensey Castle,\nwhere De Aquila lay in winter. He sat on his bed like a little white\nfalcon, turning his head swiftly from one to the other as we told our\ntale. Jehan the Crab, an old sour man-at-arms, guarded the stairway, but\nDe Aquila bade him wait at the stair-foot, and let down both leather\ncurtains over the door. It was Jehan whom De Aquila had sent to us with\nthe horses, and only Jehan had loaded the gold. When our story was told,\nDe Aquila gave us the news of England, for we were as men waked from a\nyear-long sleep. The Red King was dead\u2014slain (ye remember?) the day we set\nsail\u2014and Henry, his younger brother, had made himself King of England over\nthe head of Robert of Normandy. This was the very thing that the Red King\nhad done to Robert when our Great William died. Then Robert of Normandy,\nmad, as De Aquila said, at twice missing of this kingdom, had sent an army\nagainst England, which army had been well beaten back to their ships at\nPortsmouth. A little earlier, and Witta\u2019s ship would have rowed through\nthem.\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd now,\u201d said De Aquila, \u201chalf the great Barons of the north and west\nare out against the King between Salisbury and Shrewsbury; and half the\nother half wait to see which way the game shall go. They say Henry is\noverly English for their stomachs, because he hath married an English wife\nand she hath coaxed him to give back their old laws to our Saxons. (Better\nride a horse on the bit he knows, _I_ say.) But that is only a cloak to\ntheir falsehood.\u201d He cracked his finger on the table where the wine was\nspilt, and thus he spoke:\u2014\n\n\u2018\u201cWilliam crammed us Norman barons full of good English acres after\nSantlache. _I_ had my share too,\u201d he said, and clapped Hugh on the\nshoulder; \u201cbut I warned him\u2014I warned him before Odo rebelled\u2014that he\nshould have bidden the Barons give up their lands and lordships in\nNormandy if they would be English lords. Now they are all but princes both\nin England and Normandy\u2014trencher-fed hounds, with a foot in one trough and\nboth eyes on the other! Robert of Normandy has sent them word that if they\ndo not fight for him in England he will sack and harry out their lands in\nNormandy. Therefore Clare has risen, Fitz Osborn has risen, Montgomery has\nrisen\u2014whom our First William made an English earl. Even D\u2019Arcy is out with\nhis men, whose father I remember a little hedge-sparrow knight nearby\nCaen. If Henry wins, the Barons can still flee to Normandy, where Robert\nwill welcome them. If Henry loses, Robert, he says, will give them more\nlands in England. Oh, a pest\u2014a pest on Normandy, for she will be our\nEngland\u2019s curse this many a long year!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAmen,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cBut will the war come our ways, think you?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNot from the North,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cBut the sea is always open. If the\nBarons gain the upper hand Robert will send another army into England for\nsure; and this time I think he will land here\u2014where his father, the\nConqueror, landed. Ye have brought your pigs to a pretty market! Half\nEngland alight, and gold enough on the ground\u201d\u2014he stamped on the bars\nbeneath the table\u2014\u201cto set every sword in Christendom fighting.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat is to do?\u201d said Hugh. \u201cI have no keep at Dallington; and if we\nburied it, whom could we trust?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cMe,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cPevensey walls are strong. No man but Jehan, who\nis my dog, knows what is between them.\u201d He drew a curtain by the\nshot-window and showed us the shaft of a well in the thickness of the\nwall.\n\n\u2018\u201cI made it for a drinking-well,\u201d he said, \u201cbut we found salt water, and\nit rises and falls with the tide. Hark!\u201d We heard the water whistle and\nblow at the bottom. \u201cWill it serve?\u201d said he.\n\n\u2018\u201cNeeds must,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cOur lives are in thy hands.\u201d So we lowered all\nthe gold down except one small chest of it by De Aquila\u2019s bed, which we\nkept as much for his delight in its weight and colour as for any our\nneeds.\n\n\u2018In the morning, ere we rode to our Manors, he said: \u201cI do not say\nfarewell; because ye will return and bide here. Not for love nor for\nsorrow, but to be with the gold. Have a care,\u201d he said, laughing, \u201clest I\nuse it to make myself Pope. Trust me not, but return!\u201d\u2019\n\nSir Richard paused and smiled sadly.\n\n\u2018In seven days, then, we returned from our Manors\u2014from the Manors which\nhad been ours.\u2019\n\n\u2018And were the children quite well?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018My sons were young. Land and governance belong by right to young men.\u2019\nSir Richard was talking to himself. \u2018It would have broken their hearts if\nwe had taken back our Manors. They made us great welcome, but we could\nsee\u2014Hugh and I could see\u2014that our day was done. I was a cripple and he a\none-armed man. No!\u2019 He shook his head. \u2018And therefore\u2019\u2014he raised his\nvoice\u2014\u2018we rode back to Pevensey.\u2019\n\n\u2018I\u2019m sorry,\u2019 said Una, for the knight seemed very sorrowful.\n\n\u2018Little maid, it all passed long ago. They were young; we were old. We let\nthem rule the Manors. \u201cAha!\u201d cried De Aquila from his shot-window, when we\ndismounted. \u201cBack again to earth, old foxes?\u201d but when we were in his\nchamber above the hall he puts his arms about us and says, \u201cWelcome,\nghosts! Welcome, poor ghosts!\u201d... Thus it fell out that we were rich\nbeyond belief, and lonely. And lonely!\u2019\n\n\u2018What did you do?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018We watched for Robert of Normandy,\u2019 said the knight. \u2018De Aquila was like\nWitta. He suffered no idleness. In fair weather we would ride along\nbetween Bexlei on the one side, to Cuckmere on the other\u2014sometimes with\nhawk, sometimes with hound (there are stout hares both on the Marsh and\nthe Downland), but always with an eye to the sea, for fear of fleets from\nNormandy. In foul weather he would walk on the top of his tower, frowning\nagainst the rain\u2014peering here and pointing there. It always vexed him to\nthink how Witta\u2019s ship had come and gone without his knowledge. When the\nwind ceased and ships anchored, to the wharf\u2019s edge he would go and,\nleaning on his sword among the stinking fish, would call to the mariners\nfor their news from France. His other eye he kept landward for word of\nHenry\u2019s war against the Barons.\n\n\u2018Many brought him news\u2014jongleurs, harpers, pedlars, sutlers, priests, and\nthe like; and, though he was secret enough in small things, yet, if their\nnews misliked him, then, regarding neither time nor place nor people,\nwould he curse our King Henry for a fool or a babe. I have heard him cry\naloud by the fishing-boats: \u201cIf I were King of England I would do thus and\nthus\u201d; and when I rode out to see that the warning-beacons were laid and\ndry, he hath often called to me from the shot-window: \u201cLook to it,\nRichard! Do not copy our blind King, but see with thine own eyes and feel\nwith thine own hands.\u201d I do not think he knew any sort of fear. And so we\nlived at Pevensey, in the little chamber above the Hall.\n\n\u2018One foul night came word that a messenger of the King waited below. We\nwere chilled after a long riding in the fog towards Bexlei, which is an\neasy place for ships to land. De Aquila sent word the man might either eat\nwith us or wait till we had fed. Anon Jehan, at the stair-head, cried that\nhe had called for horse, and was gone. \u201cPest on him!\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cI\nhave more to do than to shiver in the Great Hall for every gadling the\nKing sends. Left he no word?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNone,\u201d said Jehan, \u201cexcept\u201d\u2014he had been with De Aquila at\nSantlache\u2014\u201cexcept he said that if an old dog could not learn new tricks it\nwas time to sweep out the kennel.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cOho!\u201d said De Aquila, rubbing his nose, \u201cto whom did he say that?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cTo his beard, chiefly, but some to his horse\u2019s flank as he was girthing\nup. I followed him out,\u201d said Jehan the Crab.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat was his shield-mark?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGold horseshoes on black,\u201d said the Crab.\n\n\u2018\u201cThat is one of Fulke\u2019s men,\u201d said De Aquila.\u2019\n\nPuck broke in very gently, \u2018Gold horseshoes on black is _not_ the Fulkes\u2019\nshield. The Fulkes\u2019 arms are\u2014\u2014\u2019\n\nThe knight waved one hand statelily.\n\n\u2018Thou knowest that evil man\u2019s true name,\u2019 he replied, \u2018but I have chosen\nto call him Fulke because I promised him I would not tell the story of his\nwickedness so that any man might guess it. I have changed _all_ the names\nin my tale. His children\u2019s children may be still alive.\u2019\n\n\u2018True\u2014true,\u2019 said Puck, smiling softly. \u2018It is knightly to keep faith\u2014even\nafter a thousand years.\u2019\n\nSir Richard bowed a little and went on:\u2014\n\n\u2018\u201cGold horseshoes on black?\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cI had heard Fulke had joined\nthe Barons, but if this is true our King must be of the upper hand. No\nmatter, all Fulkes are faithful. Still, I would not have sent the man away\nempty.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe fed,\u201d said Jehan. \u201cGilbert the Clerk fetched him meat and wine from\nthe kitchens. He ate at Gilbert\u2019s table.\u201d\n\n\u2018This Gilbert was a clerk from Battle Abbey, who kept the accounts of the\nManor of Pevensey. He was tall and pale-coloured, and carried those\nnew-fashioned beads for counting of prayers. They were large brown nuts or\nseeds, and hanging from his girdle with his penner and inkhorn they\nclashed when he walked. His place was in the great fireplace. There was\nhis table of accounts, and there he lay o\u2019 nights. He feared the hounds in\nthe Hall that came nosing after bones or to sleep on the warm ashes, and\nwould slash at them with his beads\u2014like a woman. When De Aquila sat in\nHall to do justice, take fines, or grant lands, Gilbert would so write it\nin the Manor-roll. But it was none of his work to feed our guests, or to\nlet them depart without his lord\u2019s knowledge.\n\n\u2018Said De Aquila, after Jehan was gone down the stair: \u201cHugh, hast thou\never told my Gilbert thou canst read Latin hand-of-write?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cHe is no friend to me, or to Odo my hound either.\u201d \u201cNo\nmatter,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cLet him never know thou canst tell one letter\nfrom its fellow, and\u201d\u2014here he jerked us in the ribs with his\nscabbard\u2014\u201cwatch him both of ye. There be devils in Africa, as I have\nheard, but by the Saints there be greater devils in Pevensey!\u201d And that\nwas all he would say.\n\n\u2018It chanced, some small while afterwards, a Norman man-at-arms would wed a\nSaxon wench of the Manor, and Gilbert (we had watched him well since De\nAquila spoke) doubted whether her folk were free or slave. Since De Aquila\nwould give them a field of good land, if she were free, the matter came up\nat the justice in Great Hall before De Aquila. First the wench\u2019s father\nspoke; then her mother; then all together, till the hall rang and the\nhounds bayed. De Aquila held up his hands. \u201cWrite her free,\u201d he called to\nGilbert by the fireplace. \u201cA\u2019 God\u2019s Name write her free, before she\ndeafens me! Yes, yes,\u201d he said to the wench that was on her knees at him;\n\u201cthou art Cerdic\u2019s sister, and own cousin to the Lady of Mercia, if thou\nwilt be silent. In fifty years there will be neither Norman nor Saxon, but\nall English,\u201d said he, \u201cand _these_ are the men that do our work!\u201d He\nclapped the man-at-arms, that was Jehan\u2019s nephew, on the shoulder, and\nkissed the wench, and fretted with his feet among the rushes to show it\nwas finished. (The Great Hall is always bitter cold.) I stood at his side;\nHugh was behind Gilbert in the fireplace making to play with wise rough\nOdo. He signed to De Aquila, who bade Gilbert measure the new field for\nthe new couple. Out then runs our Gilbert between man and maid, his beads\nclashing at his waist, and the Hall being empty, we three sit by the fire.\n\n\u2018Said Hugh, leaning down to the hearthstones, \u201cI saw this stone move under\nGilbert\u2019s foot when Odo snuffed at it. Look!\u201d De Aquila digged in the\nashes with his sword; the stone tilted; beneath it lay a parchment folden,\nand the writing atop was: \u201cWords spoken against the King by our Lord of\nPevensey\u2014the second part.\u201d\n\n\u2018Here was set out (Hugh read it us whispering) every jest De Aquila had\nmade to us touching the King; every time he had called out to me from the\nshot-window, and every time he had said what he would do if he were King\nof England. Yes, day by day had his daily speech, which he never stinted,\nbeen set down by Gilbert, tricked out and twisted from its true meaning,\nyet withal so cunningly that none could deny who knew him that De Aquila\nhad in some sort spoken those words. Ye see?\u2019\n\nDan and Una nodded.\n\n\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Una, gravely. \u2018It isn\u2019t what you say so much. It\u2019s what you\nmean when you say it. Like calling Dan a beast in fun. Only grown-ups\ndon\u2019t always understand.\u2019\n\n\u2018\u201cHe hath done this day by day before our very face?\u201d said De Aquila.\n\n\u201cNay, hour by hour,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cWhen De Aquila spoke even now, in the\nhall, of Saxons and Normans, I saw Gilbert write on a parchment, which he\nkept beside the Manor-roll, that De Aquila said soon there would be no\nNormans left in England if his men-at-arms did their work aright.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cBones of the Saints!\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cWhat avail is honour or a sword\nagainst a pen? Where did Gilbert hide that writing? He shall eat it.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIn his breast when he ran out,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cWhich made me look to see\nwhere he kept his finished stuff. When Odo scratched at this stone here, I\nsaw his face change. So I was sure.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe is bold,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cDo him justice. In his own fashion, my\nGilbert is bold.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cOverbold,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cHearken here,\u201d and he read: \u201cUpon the feast of\nSt. Agatha, our Lord of Pevensey, lying in his upper chamber, being\nclothed in his second fur gown reversed with rabbit\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cPest on him! He is not my tire-woman!\u201d said De Aquila, and Hugh and I\nlaughed.\n\n\u2018\u201cReversed with rabbit, seeing a fog over the marshes, did wake Sir\nRichard Dalyngridge, his drunken cup-mate\u201d (here they laughed at me) \u201cand\nsaid, \u2018Peer out, old fox, for God is on the Duke of Normandy\u2019s side.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cSo did I. It was a black fog. Robert could have landed ten thousand men,\nand we none the wiser. Does he tell how we were out all day riding the\nmarsh, and how I near perished in a quicksand, and coughed like a sick ewe\nfor ten days after?\u201d cried De Aquila.\n\n\u2018\u201cNo,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cBut here is the prayer of Gilbert himself to his master\nFulke.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAh,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cWell I knew it was Fulke. What is the price of my\nblood?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGilbert prayeth that when our Lord of Pevensey is stripped of his lands\non this evidence which Gilbert hath, with fear and pains, collected\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cFear and pains is a true word,\u201d said De Aquila, and sucked in his\ncheeks. \u201cBut how excellent a weapon is a pen! I must learn it.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe prays that Fulke will advance him from his present service to that\nhonour in the Church which Fulke promised him. And lest Fulke should\nforget, he has written below, \u2018To be Sacristan of Battle.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u2018At this De Aquila whistled. \u201cA man who can plot against one lord can plot\nagainst another. When I am stripped of my lands Fulke will whip off my\nGilbert\u2019s foolish head. None the less Battle needs a new Sacristan. They\ntell me the Abbot Henry keeps no sort of rule there.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cLet the Abbot wait,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cIt is our heads and our lands that are\nin danger. This parchment is the second part of the tale. The first has\ngone to Fulke, and so to the King, who will hold us traitors.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAssuredly,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cFulke\u2019s man took the first part that\nevening when Gilbert fed him, and our King is so beset by his brother and\nhis Barons (small blame, too!) that he is mad with mistrust. Fulke has his\near, and pours poison into it. Presently the King gives him my land and\nyours. This is old,\u201d and he leaned back and yawned.\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd thou wilt surrender Pevensey without word or blow?\u201d said Hugh. \u201cWe\nSaxons will fight your King then. I will go warn my nephew at Dallington.\nGive me a horse!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGive thee a toy and a rattle.\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cPut back the parchment,\nand rake over the ashes. If Fulke is given my Pevensey which is England\u2019s\ngate, what will he do with it? He is Norman at heart, and his heart is in\nNormandy, where he can kill peasants at his pleasure. He will open\nEngland\u2019s gate to our sleepy Robert, as Odo and Mortain tried to do, and\nthen there will be another landing and another Santlache. Therefore I\ncannot give up Pevensey.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGood,\u201d said we two.\n\n\u2018\u201cAh, but wait! If my King be made, on Gilbert\u2019s evidence, to mistrust me,\nhe will send his men against me here, and, while we fight, England\u2019s gate\nis left unguarded. Who will be the first to come through thereby? Even\nRobert of Normandy. Therefore I cannot fight my King.\u201d He nursed his\nsword\u2014thus.\n\n\u2018\u201cThis is saying and unsaying like a Norman,\u201d said Hugh. \u201cWhat of our\nManors?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI do not think for myself,\u201d said De Aquila, \u201cnor for our King, nor for\nyour lands. I think for England, for whom neither King nor Baron thinks. I\nam not Norman, Sir Richard, nor Saxon, Sir Hugh. English am I.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cSaxon, Norman, or English,\u201d said Hugh, \u201cour lives are thine, however the\ngame goes. When do we hang Gilbert?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNever,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cWho knows he may yet be Sacristan of Battle,\nfor, to do him justice, he is a good writer. Dead men make dumb witnesses.\nWait.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cBut the King may give Pevensey to Fulke. And our Manors go with it,\u201d\nsaid I. \u201cShall we tell our sons?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo. The King will not wake up a hornet\u2019s nest in the South till he has\nsmoked out the bees in the North. He may hold me a traitor; but at least\nhe sees I am not fighting against him, and every day that I lie still is\nso much gain to him while he fights the barons. If he were wise he would\nwait till that war were over before he made new enemies. But I think Fulke\nwill play upon him to send for me, and if I do not obey the summons that\nwill, to Henry\u2019s mind, be proof of my treason. But mere talk, such as\nGilbert sends, is no proof nowadays. We Barons follow the Church, and,\nlike Anselm, we speak what we please. Let us go about our day\u2019s dealings,\nand say naught to Gilbert.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThen we do nothing?\u201d said Hugh.\n\n\u2018\u201cWe wait,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cI am old, but still I find that the most\ngrievous work I know.\u201d\n\n\u2018And so we found it, but in the end De Aquila was right.\n\n\u2018A little later in the year, armed men rode over the hill, the Golden\nHorseshoes flying behind the King\u2019s banner. Said De Aquila, at the window\nof our chamber: \u201cHow did I tell you? Here comes Fulke himself to spy out\nhis new lands which our King hath promised him if he can bring proof of my\ntreason.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHow dost thou know?\u201d said Hugh.\n\n\u2018\u201cBecause that is what I would do if I were Fulke, but _I_ should have\nbrought more men. My roan horse to your old shoes,\u201d said he, \u201cFulke brings\nme the King\u2019s Summons to leave Pevensey and join the war.\u201d He sucked in\nhis cheeks and drummed on the edge of the shaft, where the water sounded\nall hollow.\n\n\u2018\u201cShall we go?\u201d said I.\n\n\u2018\u201cGo! At this time of year? Stark madness,\u201d said he. \u201cTake _me_ from\nPevensey to fisk and flyte through fern and forest, and in three days\nRobert\u2019s keels would be lying on Pevensey mud with ten thousand men! Who\nwould stop them\u2014Fulke?\u201d\n\n\u2018The horns blew without, and anon Fulke cried the King\u2019s Summons at the\ngreat door that De Aquila with all men and horse should join the King\u2019s\ncamp at Salisbury.\n\n\u2018\u201cHow did I tell you?\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cThere are twenty Barons \u2019twixt\nhere and Salisbury could give King Henry good land-service, but he has\nbeen worked upon by Fulke to send south and call me\u2014_me!_\u2014off the Gate of\nEngland, when his enemies stand about to batter it in. See that Fulke\u2019s\nmen lie in the big south barn,\u201d said he. \u201cGive them drink, and when Fulke\nhas eaten we will drink in my chamber. The Great Hall is too cold for old\nbones.\u201d\n\n\u2018As soon as he was off-horse Fulke went to the chapel with Gilbert to give\nthanks for his safe coming, and when he had eaten\u2014he was a fat man, and\nrolled his eyes greedily at our good roast Sussex wheatears\u2014we led him to\nthe little upper chamber, whither Gilbert had already gone with the\nManor-roll. I remember when Fulke heard the tide blow and whistle in the\nshaft he leaped back, and his long down-turned stirrup-shoes caught in the\nrushes and he stumbled, so that Jehan behind him found it easy to knock\nhis head against the wall.\u2019\n\n\u2018Did you know it was going to happen?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Assuredly,\u2019 said Sir Richard, with a sweet smile. \u2018I put my foot on his\nsword and plucked away his dagger, but he knew not whether it was day or\nnight for a while. He lay rolling his eyes and bubbling with his mouth,\nand Jehan roped him like a calf. He was cased all in that new-fangled\narmour which we call lizard-mail. Not rings like my hauberk here\u2019\u2014Sir\nRichard tapped his chest\u2014\u2018but little pieces of dagger-proof steel\noverlapping on stout leather. We stripped it off (no need to spoil good\nharness by wetting it), and in the neck-piece De Aquila found the same\nfolden piece of parchment which we had put back under the hearthstone.\n\n\u2018At this Gilbert would have run out. I laid my hand on his shoulder. It\nsufficed. He fell to trembling and praying on his beads.\n\n\u2018\u201cGilbert,\u201d said De Aquila, \u201chere be more notable sayings and doings of\nour Lord of Pevensey for thee to write down. Take penner and inkhorn,\nGilbert. We cannot all be Sacristans of Battle.\u201d\n\n\u2018Said Fulke from the floor, \u201cYe have bound a King\u2019s messenger. Pevensey\nshall burn for this!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cMaybe. I have seen it besieged once,\u201d said De Aquila, \u201cbut heart up,\nFulke. I promise thee that thou shalt be hanged in the middle of the\nflames at the end of that siege, if I have to share my last loaf with\nthee; and that is more than Odo would have done when we starved out him\nand Mortain.\u201d\n\n\u2018Then Fulke sat up and looked long and cunningly at De Aquila.\n\n\u2018\u201cBy the Saints,\u201d said he, \u201cwhy didst thou not say thou wast on the Duke\u2019s\nside at the first?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAm I?\u201d said De Aquila.\n\n\u2018Fulke laughed and said, \u201cNo man who serves King Henry dare do this much\nto his messenger. When didst thou come over to the Duke? Let me up and we\ncan smooth it out together.\u201d And he smiled and becked and winked.\n\n\u2018\u201cYes, we will smooth it out,\u201d said De Aquila. He nodded to me, and Jehan\nand I heaved up Fulke\u2014he was a heavy man\u2014and lowered him into the shaft by\na rope, not so as to stand on our gold, but dangling by his shoulders a\nlittle above. It was turn of ebb, and the water came to his knees. He said\nnothing, but shivered somewhat.\n\n\u2018Then Jehan of a sudden beat down Gilbert\u2019s wrist with his sheathed\ndagger, \u201cStop!\u201d he said. \u201cHe swallows his beads.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cPoison, belike,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cIt is good for men who know too much.\nI have carried it these thirty years. Give me!\u201d\n\n\u2018Then Gilbert wept and howled. De Aquila ran the beads through his\nfingers. The last one\u2014I have said they were large nuts\u2014opened in two\nhalves on a pin, and there was a small folded parchment within. On it was\nwritten: \u201c_The Old Dog goes to Salisbury to be beaten. I have his Kennel.\nCome quickly._\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThis is worse than poison,\u201d said De Aquila, very softly, and sucked in\nhis cheeks. Then Gilbert grovelled in the rushes, and told us all he knew.\nThe letter, as we guessed, was from Fulke to the Duke (and not the first\nthat had passed between them); Fulke had given it to Gilbert in the\nchapel, and Gilbert thought to have taken it by morning to a certain\nfishing-boat at the wharf, which trafficked between Pevensey and the\nFrench shore. Gilbert was a false fellow, but he found time between his\nquakings and shakings to swear that the master of the boat knew nothing of\nthe matter.\n\n\u2018\u201cHe hath called me shaved head,\u201d said Gilbert, \u201cand he hath thrown\nhaddock-guts at me; but for all that, he is no traitor.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI will have no clerk of mine mishandled or miscalled,\u201d said De Aquila.\n\u201cThat seaman shall be whipped at his own mast. Write me first a letter,\nand thou shalt bear it, with the order for the whipping, to-morrow to the\nboat.\u201d\n\n\u2018At this Gilbert would have kissed De Aquila\u2019s hand\u2014he had not hoped to\nlive until the morning\u2014and when he trembled less he wrote a letter as from\nFulke to the Duke saying that the Kennel, which signified Pevensey, was\nshut, and that the old Dog (which was De Aquila) sat outside it, and,\nmoreover, that all had been betrayed.\n\n\u2018\u201cWrite to any man that all is betrayed,\u201d said De Aquila, \u201cand even the\nPope himself would sleep uneasily. Eh, Jehan? If one told thee all was\nbetrayed, what wouldst thou do?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI would run away,\u201d said Jehan. \u201cIt might be true.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWell said,\u201d quoth De Aquila. \u201cWrite, Gilbert, that Montgomery, the great\nEarl, hath made his peace with the King, and that little D\u2019Arcy, whom I\nhate, hath been hanged by the heels. We will give Robert full measure to\nchew upon. Write also that Fulke himself is sick to death of a dropsy.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNay?\u201d cried Fulke, hanging in the well-shaft. \u201cDrown me out of hand, but\ndo not make a jest of me.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cJest? I?\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cI am but fighting for life and lands with a\npen, as thou hast shown me, Fulke.\u201d\n\n\u2018Then Fulke groaned, for he was cold, and, \u201cLet me confess,\u201d said he.\n\n\u2018\u201cNow, this is right neighbourly,\u201d said De Aquila, leaning over the shaft.\n\u201cThou hast read my sayings and doings\u2014or at least the first part of\nthem\u2014and thou art minded to repay me with thy own doings and sayings. Take\npenner and inkhorn, Gilbert. Here is work that will not irk thee.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cLet my men go without hurt, and I will confess my treason against the\nKing,\u201d said Fulke.\n\n\u2018\u201cNow, why has he grown so tender of his men of a sudden?\u201d said Hugh to\nme; for Fulke had no name for mercy to his men. Plunder he gave them, but\npity, none.\n\n\u2018\u201cT\u00e9! T\u00e9!\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cThy treason was all confessed long ago by\nGilbert. It would be enough to hang Montgomery himself.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNay; but spare my men,\u201d said Fulke; and we heard him splash like a fish\nin a pond, for the tide was rising.\n\n\u2018\u201cAll in good time,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cThe night is young; the wine is old;\nand we need only the merry tale. Begin the story of thy life since when\nthou wast a lad at Tours. Tell it nimbly!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYe shame me to my soul,\u201d said Fulke.\n\n\u2018\u201cThen I have done what neither King nor Duke could do,\u201d said De Aquila.\n\u201cBut begin, and forget nothing.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cSend thy man away,\u201d said Fulke.\n\n\u2018\u201cThat much I can,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cBut, remember, I am like the Danes\u2019\nKing; I cannot turn the tide.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHow long will it rise?\u201d said Fulke, and splashed anew.\n\n\u2018\u201cFor three hours,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cTime to tell all thy good deeds.\nBegin, and Gilbert\u2014I have heard thou art somewhat careless\u2014do not twist\nhis words from their true meaning.\u201d\n\n\u2018So\u2014fear of death in the dark being upon him\u2014Fulke began; and Gilbert, not\nknowing what his fate might be, wrote it word by word. I have heard many\ntales, but never heard I aught to match the tale of Fulke, his black life,\nas Fulke told it hollowly, hanging in the shaft.\u2019\n\n\u2018Was it bad?\u2019 said Dan, awestruck.\n\n\u2018Beyond belief,\u2019 Sir Richard answered. \u2018None the less, there was that in\nit which forced even Gilbert to laugh. We three laughed till we ached. At\none place his teeth so chattered that we could not well hear, and we\nreached him down a cup of wine. Then he warmed to it, and smoothly set out\nall his shifts, malices, and treacheries, his extreme boldnesses (he was\ndesperate bold); his retreats, shufflings, and counterfeitings (he was\nalso inconceivably a coward); his lack of gear and honour; his despair at\ntheir loss; his remedies, and well-coloured contrivances. Yes, he waved\nthe filthy rags of his life before us, as though they had been some proud\nbanner. When he ceased, we saw by torches that the tide stood at the\ncorners of his mouth, and he breathed strongly through his nose.\n\n\u2018We had him out, and rubbed him; we wrapped him in a cloak, and gave him\nwine, and we leaned and looked upon him the while he drank. He was\nshivering, but shameless.\n\n\u2018Of a sudden we heard Jehan at the stairway wake, but a boy pushed past\nhim, and stood before us, the hall rushes in his hair, all slubbered with\nsleep. \u201cMy father! My father! I dreamed of treachery,\u201d he cried, and\nbabbled thickly.\n\n\u2018\u201cThere is no treachery here,\u201d said Fulke. \u201cGo,\u201d and the boy turned, even\nthen not fully awake, and Jehan led him by the hand to the Great Hall.\n\n\u2018\u201cThy only son!\u201d said De Aquila, \u201cWhy didst thou bring the child here?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe is my heir. I dared not trust him to my brother,\u201d said Fulke, and now\nhe was ashamed. De Aquila said nothing, but sat weighing a wine cup in his\ntwo hands\u2014thus. Anon, Fulke touched him on the knee.\n\n\u2018\u201cLet the boy escape to Normandy,\u201d said he, \u201cand do with me at thy\npleasure. Yea, hang me to-morrow, with my letter to Robert round my neck,\nbut let the boy go.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cBe still,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cI think for England.\u201d\n\n\u2018So we waited what our Lord of Pevensey should devise; and the sweat ran\ndown Fulke\u2019s forehead.\n\n\u2018At last said De Aquila: \u201cI am too old to judge, or to trust any man. I do\nnot covet thy lands, as thou hast coveted mine; and whether thou art any\nbetter or any worse than any other black Angevin thief, it is for thy King\nto find out. Therefore, go back to thy King, Fulke.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd thou wilt say nothing of what has passed?\u201d said Fulke.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhy should I? Thy son will stay with me. If the King calls me again to\nleave Pevensey, which I must guard against England\u2019s enemies; if the King\nsends his men against me for a traitor; or if I hear that the King in his\nbed thinks any evil of me or my two knights, thy son will be hanged from\nout this window, Fulke.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018But it hadn\u2019t anything to do with his son,\u2019 cried Una, startled.\n\n\u2018How could we have hanged Fulke?\u2019 said Sir Richard. \u2018We needed him to make\nour peace with the King. He would have betrayed half England for the boy\u2019s\nsake. Of that we were sure.\u2019\n\n\u2018I don\u2019t understand,\u2019 said Una. \u2018But I think it was simply awful.\u2019\n\n\u2018So did not Fulke. He was well pleased.\u2019\n\n\u2018What? Because his son was going to be killed?\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay. Because De Aquila had shown him how he might save the boy\u2019s life and\nhis own lands and honours. \u201cI will do it,\u201d he said. \u201cI swear I will do it.\nI will tell the King thou art no traitor, but the most excellent, valiant,\nand perfect of us all. Yes, I will save thee.\u201d\n\n\u2018De Aquila looked still into the bottom of the cup, rolling the wine-dregs\nto and fro.\n\n\u2018\u201cAy,\u201d he said. \u201cIf I had a son, I would, I think, save him. But do not by\nany means tell me how thou wilt go about it.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNay, nay,\u201d said Fulke, nodding his bald head wisely. \u201cThat is my secret.\nBut rest at ease, De Aquila, no hair of thy head nor rood of thy land\nshall be forfeited,\u201d and he smiled like one planning great good deeds.\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd henceforward,\u201d said De Aquila, \u201cI counsel thee to serve one\nmaster\u2014not two.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat?\u201d said Fulke. \u201cCan I work no more honest trading between the two\nsides these troublous times?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cServe Robert or the King\u2014England or Normandy,\u201d said De Aquila. \u201cI care\nnot which it is, but make thy choice here and now.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThe King, then,\u201d said Fulke, \u201cfor I see he is better served than Robert.\nShall I swear it?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo need,\u201d said De Aquila, and he laid his hand on the parchments which\nGilbert had written. \u201cIt shall be some part of my Gilbert\u2019s penance to\ncopy out the savoury tale of thy life, till we have made ten, twenty, an\nhundred, maybe, copies. How many cattle, think you, would the Bishop of\nTours give for that tale? Or thy brother? Or the Monks of Blois? Minstrels\nwill turn it into songs which thy own Saxon serfs shall sing behind their\nplough-stilts, and men-at-arms riding through thy Norman towns. From here\nto Rome, Fulke, men will make very merry over that tale, and how Fulke\ntold it, hanging in a well, like a drowned puppy. This shall be thy\npunishment, if ever I find thee double-dealing with thy King any more.\nMeantime, the parchments stay here with thy son. Him I will return to thee\nwhen thou hast made my peace with the King. The parchments never.\u201d\n\n\u2018Fulke hid his face and groaned.\n\n\u2018\u201cBones of the Saints!\u201d said De Aquila, laughing. \u201cThe pen cuts deep. I\ncould never have fetched that grunt out of thee with any sword.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cBut so long as I do not anger thee, my tale will be secret?\u201d said Fulke.\n\n\u2018\u201cJust so long. Does that comfort thee, Fulke?\u201d said De Aquila.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat other comfort have ye left me?\u201d he said, and of a sudden he wept\nhopelessly like a child, dropping his face on his knees.\u2019\n\n\u2018Poor Fulke,\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018I pitied him also,\u2019 said Sir Richard.\n\n\u2018\u201cAfter the spur, corn,\u201d said De Aquila, and he threw Fulke three wedges\nof gold that he had taken from our little chest by the bed-place.\n\n\u2018\u201cIf I had known this,\u201d said Fulke, catching his breath, \u201cI would never\nhave lifted hand against Pevensey. Only lack of this yellow stuff has made\nme so unlucky in my dealings.\u201d\n\n\u2018It was dawn then, and they stirred in the Great Hall below. We sent down\nFulke\u2019s mail to be scoured, and when he rode away at noon under his own\nand the King\u2019s banner very splendid and stately did he show. He smoothed\nhis long beard, and called his son to his stirrup and kissed him. De\nAquila rode with him as far as the New Mill landward. We thought the night\nhad been all a dream.\u2019\n\n\u2018But did he make it right with the King?\u2019 Dan asked. \u2018About your not being\ntraitors, I mean?\u2019\n\nSir Richard smiled. \u2018The King sent no second summons to Pevensey, nor did\nhe ask why De Aquila had not obeyed the first. Yes, that was Fulke\u2019s work.\nI know not how he did it, but it was well and swiftly done.\u2019\n\n\u2018Then you didn\u2019t do anything to his son?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018The boy? Oh, he was an imp. He turned the keep doors out of dortoirs\nwhile we had him. He sang foul songs, learned in the Barons\u2019 camps\u2014poor\nfool; he set the hounds fighting in hall; he lit the rushes to drive out,\nas he said, the fleas; he drew his dagger on Jehan, who threw him down the\nstairway for it; and he rode his horse through crops and among sheep. But\nwhen we had beaten him, and showed him wolf and deer, he followed us old\nmen like a young, eager hound, and called us \u201cuncle.\u201d His father came the\nsummer\u2019s end to take him away, but the boy had no lust to go, because of\nthe otter-hunting, and he stayed on till the fox-hunting. I gave him a\nbittern\u2019s claw to bring him good luck at shooting. An imp, if ever there\nwas!\u2019\n\n\u2018And what happened to Gilbert?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Not even a whipping. De Aquila said he would sooner a clerk, however\nfalse, that knew the Manor-roll than a fool, however true, that must be\ntaught his work afresh. Moreover, after that night I think Gilbert loved\nas much as he feared De Aquila. At least he would not leave us\u2014not even\nwhen Vivian, the King\u2019s Clerk, would have made him Sacristan of Battle\nAbbey. A false fellow, but, in his fashion, bold.\u2019\n\n\u2018Did Robert ever land in Pevensey after all?\u2019 Dan went on.\n\n\u2018We guarded the coast too well while Henry was fighting his Barons; and\nthree or four years later, when England had peace, Henry crossed to\nNormandy and showed his brother some work at Tenchebrai that cured Robert\nof fighting. Many of Henry\u2019s men sailed from Pevensey to that war. Fulke\ncame, I remember, and we all four lay in the little chamber once again,\nand drank together. De Aquila was right. One should not judge men. Fulke\nwas merry. Yes, always merry\u2014with a catch in his breath.\u2019\n\n\u2018And what did you do afterwards?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018We talked together of times past. That is all men can do when they grow\nold, little maid.\u2019\n\nThe bell for tea rang faintly across the meadows. Dan lay in the bows of\nthe _Golden Hind_; Una in the stern, the book of verses open in her lap,\nwas reading from \u2018The Slave\u2019s Dream\u2019:\u2014\n\n  \u2018Again in the mist and shadow of sleep\n  He saw his native land.\u2019\n\n\u2018I don\u2019t know when you began that,\u2019 said Dan, sleepily.\n\nOn the middle thwart of the boat, beside Una\u2019s sun-bonnet, lay an Oak\nleaf, an Ash leaf, and a Thorn leaf, that must have dropped down from the\ntrees above; and the brook giggled as though it had just seen some joke.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RUNES ON WELAND\u2019S SWORD\n\n\n  _A Smith makes me_\n  _To betray my Man_\n  _In my first fight._\n\n  _To gather Gold_\n  _At the world\u2019s end_\n  _I am sent._\n\n  _The Gold I gather_\n  _Comes into England_\n  _Out of deep Water._\n\n  _Like a shining Fish_\n  _Then it descends_\n  _Into deep Water._\n\n  _It is not given_\n  _For goods or gear._\n  _But for The Thing_\n\n  _The Gold I gather_\n  _A King covets_\n  _For an ill use._\n\n  _The Gold I gather_\n  _Is drawn up_\n  _Out of deep Water._\n\n  _Like a shining Fish_\n  _Then it descends_\n  _Into deep Water._\n\n  _It is not given_\n  _For goods or gear_\n  _But for The Thing._\n\n\n\n\n\nA CENTURION OF THE THIRTIETH\n\n\n\n\n  _Cities and Thrones and Powers,_\n    _Stand in Time\u2019s eye,_\n  _Almost as long as flowers,_\n    _Which daily die:_\n  _But, as new buds put forth,_\n    _To glad new men,_\n  _Out of the spent and unconsidered Earth,_\n    _The Cities rise again._\n\n  _This season\u2019s Daffodil,_\n    _She never hears,_\n  _What change, what chance, what chill,_\n    _Cut down last year\u2019s;_\n  _But with bold countenance,_\n    _And knowledge small,_\n  _Esteems her seven days\u2019 continuance_\n    _To be perpetual._\n\n  _So Time that is o\u2019er-kind,_\n    _To all that be,_\n  _Ordains us e\u2019en as blind,_\n    _As bold as she:_\n  _That in our very death,_\n    _And burial sure,_\n  _Shadow to shadow, well-persuaded, saith,_\n    _\u2018See how our works endure!\u2019_\n\n\n\n\nA CENTURION OF THE THIRTIETH\n\n\nDan had come to grief over his Latin, and was kept in; so Una went alone\nto Far Wood. Dan\u2019s big catapult and the lead bullets that Hobden had made\nfor him were hidden in an old hollow beech-stub on the west of the wood.\nThey had named the place out of the verse in _Lays of Ancient Rome_.\n\n  From lordly Volaterrae,\n    Where scowls the far-famed hold,\n  Piled by the hands of giants\n    For Godlike Kings of old.\n\nThey were the \u2018Godlike Kings,\u2019 and when old Hobden piled some comfortable\nbrushwood between the big wooden knees of Volaterrae, they called him\n\u2018Hands of Giants.\u2019\n\nUna slipped through their private gap in the fence, and sat still a while,\nscowling as scowlily and lordlily as she knew how; for \u2018Volaterrae\u2019 is an\nimportant watch-tower that juts out of Far Wood just as Far Wood juts out\nof the hillside. Pook\u2019s Hill lay below her, and all the turns of the brook\nas it wanders from out of the Willingford Woods, between hop-gardens, to\nold Hobden\u2019s cottage at the Forge. The Sou\u2019-West wind (there is always a\nwind by \u2018Volaterrae\u2019) blew from the bare ridge where Cherry Clack Windmill\nstands.\n\nNow wind prowling through woods sounds like exciting things going to\nhappen, and that is why on \u2018blowy days\u2019 you stand up in Volaterrae and\nshout bits of the _Lays_ to suit its noises.\n\nUna took Dan\u2019s catapult from its secret place, and made ready to meet Lars\nPorsena\u2019s army stealing through the wind-whitened aspens by the brook. A\ngust boomed up the valley, and Una chanted sorrowfully:\n\n  \u2018Verbenna down to Ostia\n    Hath wasted all the plain;\n  Astur hath stormed Janiculum\n    And the stout guards are slain.\u2019\n\nBut the wind, not charging fair to the wood, started aside and shook a\nsingle oak in Gleason\u2019s pasture. Here it made itself all small and\ncrouched among the grasses, waving the tips of them as a cat waves the tip\nof her tail before she springs.\n\n\u2018Now welcome\u2014welcome Sextus,\u2019 sang Una, loading the catapult\u2014\n\n    \u2018Now welcome to thy home,\n  Why dost thou turn and run away?\n    Here lies the rod of Rome.\u2019\n\nShe fired into the face of the lull, to wake up the cowardly wind, and\nheard a grunt from behind a thorn in the pasture.\n\n\u2018Oh, my Winkie!\u2019 she said aloud, and that was something she had picked up\nfrom Dan. \u2018I believe I\u2019ve tickled up a Gleason cow.\u2019\n\n\u2018You little painted beast!\u2019 a voice cried. \u2018I\u2019ll teach you to sling your\nmasters!\u2019\n\nShe looked down most cautiously, and saw a young man covered with hoopy\nbronze armour all glowing among the late broom. But what Una admired\nbeyond all was his great bronze helmet with its red horse-tail that\nflicked in the wind. She could hear the long hairs rasp on his shimmery\nshoulder-plates.\n\n\u2018What does the Faun mean,\u2019 he said, half aloud to himself, \u2018by telling me\nthe Painted People have changed?\u2019 He caught sight of Una\u2019s yellow head.\n\u2018Have you seen a painted lead-slinger?\u2019 he called.\n\n\u2018No-o,\u2019 said Una. \u2018But if you\u2019ve seen a bullet\u2014\u2014\u2019\n\n\u2018Seen?\u2019 cried the man. \u2018It passed within a hair\u2019s breadth of my ear.\u2019\n\n\u2018Well, that was me. I\u2019m most awfully sorry.\u2019\n\n\u2018Didn\u2019t the Faun tell you I was coming?\u2019 He smiled.\n\n\u2018Not if you mean Puck. I thought you were a Gleason cow. I\u2014I didn\u2019t know\nyou were a\u2014a\u2014\u2014What are you?\u2019\n\nHe laughed outright, showing a set of splendid teeth. His face and eyes\nwere dark, and his eyebrows met above his big nose in one bushy black bar.\n\n\u2018They call me Parnesius. I have been an officer of the Seventh Cohort of\nthe Thirtieth Legion\u2014the Ulpia Victrix. Did you sling that bullet?\u2019\n\n\u2018I did. I was using Dan\u2019s catapult,\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Catapults!\u2019 said he. \u2018I ought to know something about them. Show me!\u2019\n\nHe leaped the rough fence with a rattle of spear, shield, and armour, and\nhoisted himself into \u2018Volaterrae\u2019 as quickly as a shadow.\n\n\u2018A sling on a forked stick. _I_ understand!\u2019 he cried, and pulled at the\nelastic. \u2018But what wonderful beast yields this stretching leather?\u2019\n\n\u2018It\u2019s laccy\u2014elastic. You put the bullet into that loop, and then you pull\nhard.\u2019\n\nThe man pulled, and hit himself square on his thumb-nail.\n\n\u2018Each to his own weapon,\u2019 he said, gravely, handing it back. \u2018I am better\nwith the bigger machine, little maiden. But it\u2019s a pretty toy. A wolf\nwould laugh at it. Aren\u2019t you afraid of wolves?\u2019\n\n\u2018There aren\u2019t any,\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Never believe it! A wolf is like a Winged Hat. He comes when he isn\u2019t\nexpected. Don\u2019t they hunt wolves here?\u2019\n\n\u2018We don\u2019t hunt,\u2019 said Una, remembering what she had heard from grown-ups.\n\u2018We preserve\u2014pheasants. Do you know them?\u2019\n\n\u2018I ought to,\u2019 said the young man, smiling again, and he imitated the cry\nof the cock-pheasant so perfectly that a bird answered out of the wood.\n\n\u2018What a big painted clucking fool is a pheasant,\u2019 he said. \u2018Just like some\nRomans!\u2019\n\n\u2018But you\u2019re a Roman yourself, aren\u2019t you?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Ye-es and no. I\u2019m one of a good few thousands who have never seen Rome\nexcept in a picture. My people have lived at Vectis for generations.\nVectis! That island West yonder that you can see from so far in clear\nweather.\u2019\n\n\u2018Do you mean the Isle of Wight? It lifts up just before rain, and we see\nit from the Downs.\u2019\n\n\u2018Very likely. Our Villa\u2019s on the South edge of the Island, by the Broken\nCliffs. Most of it is three hundred years old, but the cow-stables, where\nour first ancestor lived, must be a hundred years older. Oh, quite that,\nbecause the founder of our family had his land given him by Agricola at\nthe Settlement. It\u2019s not a bad little place for its size. In spring-time\nviolets grow down to the very beach. I\u2019ve gathered sea-weeds for myself\nand violets for my Mother many a time with our old nurse.\u2019\n\n\u2018Was your nurse a\u2014a Romaness too?\u2019\n\n\u2018No, a Numidian. Gods be good to her! A dear, fat, brown thing with a\ntongue like a cowbell. She was a free woman. By the way, are you free,\nmaiden?\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh, quite,\u2019 said Una. \u2018At least, till tea-time; and in summer our\ngoverness doesn\u2019t say much if we\u2019re late.\u2019\n\nThe young man laughed again\u2014a proper understanding laugh.\n\n\u2018I see,\u2019 said he. \u2018That accounts for your being in the wood. _We_ hid\namong the cliffs.\u2019\n\n\u2018Did _you_ have a governess, then?\u2019\n\n\u2018Did we not? A Greek, too. She had a way of clutching her dress when she\nhunted us among the gorze-bushes that made us laugh. Then she\u2019d say she\u2019d\nget us whipped. She never did, though, bless her! Aglaia was a thorough\nsportswoman, for all her learning.\u2019\n\n\u2018But what lessons did you do\u2014when\u2014when you were little!\u2019\n\n\u2018Ancient history, the Classics, arithmetic, and so on,\u2019 he answered. \u2018My\nsister and I were thickheads, but my two brothers (I\u2019m the middle one)\nliked those things, and, of course, Mother was clever enough for any six.\nShe was nearly as tall as I am, and she looked like the new statue on the\nWestern Road\u2014the Demeter of the Baskets, you know. And funny! Roma Dea!\nHow Mother could make us laugh!\u2019\n\n\u2018What at?\u2019\n\n\u2018Little jokes and sayings that every family has. Don\u2019t you know?\u2019\n\n\u2018I know _we_ have, but I didn\u2019t know other people had them too,\u2019 said Una.\n\u2018Tell me about all your family, please.\u2019\n\n\u2018Good families are very much alike. Mother would sit spinning of evenings\nwhile Aglaia read in her corner, and Father did accounts, and we four\nromped about the passages. When our noise grew too loud the Pater would\nsay, \u201cLess tumult! Less tumult! Have you never heard of a Father\u2019s right\nover his children? He can slay them, my loves\u2014slay them dead, and the Gods\nhighly approve of the action!\u201d Then Mother would prim up her dear mouth\nover the wheel and answer: \u201cH\u2019m! I\u2019m afraid there can\u2019t be much of the\nRoman Father about you!\u201d Then the Pater would roll up his accounts, and\nsay, \u201cI\u2019ll show you!\u201d and then\u2014then, he\u2019d be worse than any of us!\u2019\n\n\u2018Fathers can\u2014if they like,\u2019 said Una, her eyes dancing.\n\n\u2018Didn\u2019t I say all good families are very much the same?\u2019\n\n\u2018What did you do in summer?\u2019 said Una. \u2018Play about, like us?\u2019\n\n\u2018Yes, and we visited our friends. There are no wolves in Vectis. We had\nmany friends, and as many ponies as we wished.\u2019\n\n\u2018It must have been lovely,\u2019 said Una. \u2018I hope it lasted for ever.\u2019\n\n\u2018Not quite, little maid. When I was about sixteen or seventeen, the Father\nfelt gouty, and we all went to the Waters.\u2019\n\n\u2018What waters?\u2019\n\n\u2018At Aquae Solis. Every one goes there. You ought to get your Father to\ntake you some day.\u2019\n\n\u2018But where? I don\u2019t know,\u2019 said Una.\n\nThe young man looked astonished for a moment. \u2018Aquae Solis,\u2019 he repeated.\n\u2018The best baths in Britain. Just as good, I\u2019m told, as Rome. All the old\ngluttons sit in its hot water, and talk scandal and politics. And the\nGenerals come through the streets with their guards behind them; and the\nmagistrates come in their chairs with their stiff guards behind them; and\nyou meet fortune-tellers, and goldsmiths, and merchants, and philosophers,\nand feather-sellers, and ultra-Roman Britons, and ultra-British Romans,\nand tame tribesmen pretending to be civilised, and Jew lecturers, and\u2014oh,\neverybody interesting. We young people, of course, took no interest in\npolitics. We had not the gout: there were many of our age like us. We did\nnot find life sad.\n\n\u2018But while we were enjoying ourselves without thinking, my sister met the\nson of a magistrate in the West\u2014and a year afterwards she was married to\nhim. My young brother, who was always interested in plants and roots, met\nthe First Doctor of a Legion from the City of the Legions, and he decided\nthat he would be an Army doctor. I do not think it is a profession for a\nwell-born man, but then\u2014I\u2019m not my brother. He went to Rome to study\nmedicine, and now he\u2019s First Doctor of a Legion in Egypt\u2014at Antinoe, I\nthink, but I have not heard from him for some time.\n\n\u2018My eldest brother came across a Greek philosopher, and told my Father\nthat he intended to settle down on the estate as a farmer and a\nphilosopher. You see\u2019\u2014the young man\u2019s eyes twinkled\u2014\u2018his philosopher was a\nlong-haired one!\u2019\n\n\u2018I thought philosophers were bald,\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Not all. She was very pretty. I don\u2019t blame him. Nothing could have\nsuited me better than my eldest brother\u2019s doing this, for I was only too\nkeen to join the Army. I had always feared I should have to stay at home\nand look after the estate while my brother took _this_.\u2019\n\nHe rapped on his great glistening shield that never seemed to be in his\nway.\n\n\u2018So we were well contented\u2014we young people\u2014and we rode back to Clausentum\nalong the Wood Road very quietly. But when we reached home, Aglaia, our\ngoverness, saw what had come to us. I remember her at the door, the torch\nover her head, watching us climb the cliff-path from the boat. \u201cAie! Aie!\u201d\nshe said. \u201cChildren you went away. Men and a woman you return!\u201d Then she\nkissed Mother, and Mother wept. Thus our visit to the Waters settled our\nfates for each of us, Maiden.\u2019\n\nHe rose to his feet and listened, leaning on the shield-rim.\n\n\u2018I think that\u2019s Dan\u2014my brother,\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Yes; and the Faun is with him,\u2019 he replied, as Dan with Puck stumbled\nthrough the copse.\n\n\u2018We should have come sooner,\u2019 Puck called, \u2018but the beauties of your\nnative tongue, O Parnesius, have enthralled this young citizen.\u2019\n\nParnesius looked bewildered, even when Una explained.\n\n\u2018Dan said the plural of \u201cdominus\u201d was \u201cdominoes,\u201d and when Miss Blake said\nit wasn\u2019t he said he supposed it was \u201cbackgammon,\u201d and so he had to write\nit out twice\u2014for cheek, you know.\u2019\n\nDan had climbed into Volaterrae, hot and panting.\n\n\u2018I\u2019ve run nearly all the way,\u2019 he gasped, \u2018and then Puck met me. How do\nyou do, Sir?\u2019\n\n\u2018I am in good health,\u2019 Parnesius answered. \u2018See! I have tried to bend the\nbow of Ulysses, but\u2014\u2014\u2019 He held up his thumb.\n\n\u2018I\u2019m sorry. You must have pulled off too soon,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018Puck said you\nwere telling Una a story.\u2019\n\n\u2018Continue, O Parnesius,\u2019 said Puck, who had perched himself on a dead\nbranch above them. \u2018I will be chorus. Has he puzzled you much, Una?\u2019\n\n\u2018Not a bit, except\u2014I didn\u2019t know where Ak\u2014Ak something was,\u2019 she answered.\n\n\u2018Oh, Aquae Solis. That\u2019s Bath, where the buns come from. Let the hero tell\nhis own tale.\u2019\n\nParnesius pretended to thrust his spear at Puck\u2019s legs, but Puck reached\ndown, caught at the horse-tail plume, and pulled off the tall helmet.\n\n\u2018Thanks, jester,\u2019 said Parnesius, shaking his curly dark head. \u2018That is\ncooler. Now hang it up for me....\n\n\u2018I was telling your sister how I joined the Army,\u2019 he said to Dan.\n\n\u2018Did you have to pass an Exam?\u2019 Dan asked, eagerly.\n\n\u2018No. I went to my Father, and said I should like to enter the Dacian Horse\n(I had seen some at Aquae Solis); but he said I had better begin service\nin a regular Legion from Rome. Now, like many of our youngsters, I was not\ntoo fond of anything Roman. The Roman-born officers and magistrates looked\ndown on us British-born as though we were barbarians. I told my Father so.\n\n\u2018\u201cI know they do,\u201d he said; \u201cbut remember, after all, we are the people of\nthe Old Stock, and our duty is to the Empire.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cTo which Empire?\u2019\u201d I asked. \u201cWe split the Eagle before I was born.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat thieves\u2019 talk is that?\u201d said my Father. He hated slang.\n\n\u2018\u201cWell, Sir,\u201d I said, \u201cwe\u2019ve one Emperor in Rome, and I don\u2019t know how\nmany Emperors the outlying Provinces have set up from time to time. Which\nam I to follow?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGratian,\u201d said he. \u201cAt least he\u2019s a sportsman.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe\u2019s all that,\u201d I said. \u201cHasn\u2019t he turned himself into a raw-beef-eating\nScythian?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhere did you hear of it?\u201d said the Pater.\n\n\u2018\u201cAt Aquae Solis,\u201d I said. It was perfectly true. This precious Emperor\nGratian of ours had a bodyguard of fur-cloaked Scythians, and he was so\ncrazy about them that he dressed like them. In Rome of all places in the\nworld! It was as bad as if my own Father had painted himself blue!\n\n\u2018\u201cNo matter for the clothes,\u201d said the Pater. \u201cThey are only the fringe of\nthe trouble. It began before your time or mine. Rome has forsaken her\nGods, and must be punished. The great war with the Painted People broke\nout in the very year the temples of our Gods were destroyed. We beat the\nPainted People in the very year our temples were rebuilt. Go back further\nstill.\u201d... He went back to the time of Diocletian; and to listen to him\nyou would have thought Eternal Rome herself was on the edge of\ndestruction, just because a few people had become a little large-minded.\n\n\u2018_I_ knew nothing about it. Aglaia never taught us the history of our own\ncountry. She was so full of her ancient Greeks.\n\n\u2018\u201cThere is no hope for Rome,\u201d said the Pater, at last. \u201cShe has forsaken\nher Gods, but if the Gods forgive _us_ here, we may save Britain. To do\nthat, we must keep the Painted People back. Therefore, I tell you,\nParnesius, as a Father, that if your heart is set on service, your place\nis among men on the Wall\u2014and not with women among the cities.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018What Wall?\u2019 asked Dan and Una at once.\n\n\u2018Father meant the one we call Hadrian\u2019s Wall. I\u2019ll tell you about it\nlater. It was built long ago, across North Britain, to keep out the\nPainted People\u2014Picts you call them. Father had fought in the great Pict\nWar that lasted more than twenty years, and he knew what fighting meant.\nTheodosius, one of our great Generals, had chased the little beasts back\nfar into the North before I was born: down at Vectis, of course, we never\ntroubled our heads about them. But when my Father spoke as he did, I\nkissed his hand, and waited for orders. We British-born Romans know what\nis due to our parents.\u2019\n\n\u2018If I kissed my Father\u2019s hand, he\u2019d laugh,\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Customs change; but if you do not obey your father, the Gods remember it.\nYou may be quite sure of _that_.\n\n\u2018After our talk, seeing I was in earnest, the Pater sent me over to\nClausentum to learn my foot-drill in a barrack full of foreign\nAuxiliaries\u2014as unwashed and unshaved a mob of mixed barbarians as ever\nscrubbed a breast-plate. It was your stick in their stomachs and your\nshield in their faces to push them into any sort of formation. When I had\nlearned my work the Instructor gave me a handful\u2014and they were a\nhandful!\u2014of Gauls and Iberians to polish up till they were sent to their\nstations up-country. I did my best, and one night a villa in the suburbs\ncaught fire, and I had my handful out and at work before any of the other\ntroops. I noticed a quiet-looking man on the lawn, leaning on a stick. He\nwatched us passing buckets from the pond, and at last he said to me: \u201cWho\nare you?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cA probationer, waiting for a cohort,\u201d I answered. _I_ didn\u2019t know who he\nwas from Deucalion!\n\n\u2018\u201cBorn in Britain?\u201d he said.\n\n\u2018\u201cYes, if you were born in Spain,\u201d I said, for he neighed his words like\nan Iberian mule.\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd what might you call yourself when you are at home?\u201d he said\nlaughing.\n\n\u2018\u201cThat depends,\u201d I answered; \u201csometimes one thing and sometimes another.\nBut now I\u2019m busy.\u201d\n\n\u2018He said no more till we had saved the family gods (they were respectable\nhouseholders), and then he grunted across the laurels: \u201cListen, young\nsometimes-one-thing-and-sometimes-another. In future call yourself\nCenturion of the Seventh Cohort of the Thirtieth, the Ulpia Victrix. That\nwill help me to remember you. Your Father and a few other people call me\nMaximus.\u201d\n\n\u2018He tossed me the polished stick he was leaning on, and went away. You\nmight have knocked me down with it!\u2019\n\n\u2018Who was he?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Maximus himself, our great General! _The_ General of Britain who had been\nTheodosius\u2019s right hand in the Pict War! Not only had he given me my\nCenturion\u2019s stick direct, but three steps in a good Legion as well! A new\nman generally begins in the Tenth Cohort of his Legion, and works up.\u2019\n\n\u2018And were you pleased?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Very. I thought Maximus had chosen me for my good looks and fine style in\nmarching, but, when I went home, the Pater told me he had served under\nMaximus in the great Pict War, and had asked him to promote me.\u2019\n\n\u2018A child you were!\u2019 said Puck, from above.\n\n\u2018I was,\u2019 said Parnesius. \u2018Don\u2019t begrudge it me, Faun. Afterwards\u2014the Gods\nknow I put aside the games!\u2019 And Puck nodded, brown chin on brown hand,\nhis big eyes still.\n\n\u2018The night before I left we sacrificed to our ancestors\u2014the usual little\nHome Sacrifice\u2014but I never prayed so earnestly to all the Good Shades, and\nthen I went with my Father by boat to Regnum, and across the chalk\neastwards to Anderida yonder.\u2019\n\n\u2018Regnum? Anderida?\u2019 The children turned their faces to Puck.\n\n\u2018Regnum\u2019s Chichester,\u2019 he said, pointing towards Cherry Clack, and\u2014he\nthrew his arm South behind him\u2014\u2018Anderida\u2019s Pevensey.\u2019\n\n\u2018Pevensey again!\u2019 said Dan. \u2018Where Weland landed?\u2019\n\n\u2018Weland and a few others,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018Pevensey isn\u2019t young\u2014even compared\nto me!\u2019\n\n\u2018The head-quarters of the Thirtieth lay at Anderida in summer, but my own\nCohort, the Seventh, was on the Wall up North. Maximus was inspecting\nAuxiliaries\u2014the Abulci, I think\u2014at Anderida, and we stayed with him, for\nhe and my Father were very old friends. I was only there ten days when I\nwas ordered to go up with thirty men to my Cohort.\u2019 He laughed merrily. \u2018A\nman never forgets his first march. I was happier than any Emperor when I\nled my handful through the North Gate of the Camp, and we saluted the\nguard and the Altar of Victory there.\u2019\n\n\u2018How? How?\u2019 said Dan and Una.\n\nParnesius smiled, and stood up, flashing in his armour.\n\n\u2018So!\u2019 said he; and he moved slowly through the beautiful movements of the\nRoman Salute, that ends with a hollow clang of the shield coming into its\nplace between the shoulders.\n\n\u2018Hai!\u2019 said Puck. \u2018That sets one thinking!\u2019\n\n\u2018We went out fully armed,\u2019 said Parnesius, sitting down; \u2018but as soon as\nthe road entered the Great Forest, my men expected the pack-horses to hang\ntheir shields on. \u201cNo!\u201d I said; \u201cyou can dress like women in Anderida, but\nwhile you\u2019re with me you will carry your own weapons and armour.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cBut it\u2019s hot,\u201d said one of them, \u201cand we haven\u2019t a doctor. Suppose we\nget sunstroke, or a fever?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThen die,\u201d I said, \u201cand a good riddance to Rome! Up shield\u2014up spears,\nand tighten your foot-wear!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cDon\u2019t think yourself Emperor of Britain already,\u201d a fellow shouted. I\nknocked him over with the butt of my spear, and explained to these\nRoman-born Romans that, if there were any further trouble, we should go on\nwith one man short. And, by the Light of the Sun, I meant it too! My raw\nGauls at Clausentum had never treated me so.\n\n\u2018Then, quietly as a cloud, Maximus rode out of the fern (my Father behind\nhim), and reined up across the road. He wore the Purple, as though he were\nalready Emperor; his leggings were of white buckskin laced with gold.\n\n\u2018My men dropped like\u2014like partridges.\n\n\u2018He said nothing for some time, only looked, with his eyes puckered. Then\nhe crooked his forefinger, and my men walked\u2014crawled, I mean\u2014to one side.\n\n\u2018\u201cStand in the sun, children,\u201d he said, and they formed up on the hard\nroad.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat would you have done?\u201d he said to me, \u201cIf I had not been here?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI should have killed that man,\u201d I answered.\n\n\u2018\u201cKill him now,\u201d he said. \u201cHe will not move a limb.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cYou\u2019ve taken my men out of my command. I should only be\nyour butcher if I killed him now.\u201d Do you see what I meant?\u2019 Parnesius\nturned to Dan.\n\n\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018It wouldn\u2019t have been fair, somehow.\u2019\n\n\u2018That was what I thought,\u2019 said Parnesius. \u2018But Maximus frowned. \u201cYou\u2019ll\nnever be an Emperor,\u201d he said. \u201cNot even a General will you be.\u201d\n\n\u2018I was silent, but my Father seemed pleased.\n\n\u2018\u201cI came here to see the last of you,\u201d he said.\n\n\u2018\u201cYou have seen it,\u201d said Maximus. \u201cI shall never need your son any more.\nHe will live and he will die an officer of a Legion\u2014and he might have been\nPrefect of one of my Provinces. Now eat and drink with us,\u201d he said. \u201cYour\nmen will wait till you have finished.\u201d\n\n\u2018My miserable thirty stood like wine-skins glistening in the hot sun, and\nMaximus led us to where his people had set a meal. Himself he mixed the\nwine.\n\n\u2018\u201cA year from now,\u201d he said, \u201cyou will remember that you have sat with the\nEmperor of Britain\u2014and Gaul.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYes,\u201d said the Pater, \u201cyou can drive two mules\u2014Gaul and Britain.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cFive years hence you will remember that you have drunk\u201d\u2014he passed me the\ncup and there was blue borage in it\u2014\u201cwith the Emperor of Rome!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo; you can\u2019t drive three mules; they will tear you in pieces,\u201d said my\nFather.\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd you on the Wall, among the heather, will weep because your notion of\njustice was more to you than the favour of the Emperor of Rome.\u201d\n\n\u2018I sat quite still. One does not answer a General who wears the Purple.\n\n\u2018\u201cI am not angry with you,\u201d he went on; \u201cI owe too much to your Father\u2014\u2014\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYou owe me nothing but advice that you never took,\u201d said the Pater.\n\n\u2018\u201c\u2014\u2014to be unjust to any of your family. Indeed, I say you will make a good\nofficer, but, so far as I am concerned, on the Wall you will live, and on\nthe Wall you will die,\u201d said Maximus.\n\n\u2018\u201cVery like,\u201d said my Father. \u201cBut we shall have the Picts _and_ their\nfriends breaking through before long. You cannot move all troops out of\nBritain to make you Emperor, and expect the North to sit quiet.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI follow my destiny,\u201d said Maximus.\n\n\u2018\u201cFollow it, then,\u201d said my Father pulling up a fern root; \u201cand die as\nTheodosius died.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAh!\u201d said Maximus. \u201cMy old General was killed because he served the\nEmpire too well. _I_ may be killed, but not for that reason,\u201d and he\nsmiled a little pale grey smile that made my blood run cold.\n\n\u2018\u201cThen I had better follow my destiny,\u201d I said, \u201cand take my men to the\nWall.\u201d\n\n\u2018He looked at me a long time, and bowed his head slanting like a Spaniard.\n\u201cFollow it, boy,\u201d he said. That was all. I was only too glad to get away,\nthough I had many messages for home. I found my men standing as they had\nbeen put\u2014they had not even shifted their feet in the dust,\u2014and off I\nmarched, still feeling that terrific smile like an east wind up my back. I\nnever halted them till sunset, and\u2019\u2014he turned about and looked at Pook\u2019s\nHill below him\u2014\u2018then I halted yonder.\u2019 He pointed to the broken,\nbracken-covered shoulder of the Forge Hill behind old Hobden\u2019s cottage.\n\n\u2018There? Why, that\u2019s only the old Forge\u2014where they made iron once,\u2019 said\nDan.\n\n\u2018Very good stuff it was too,\u2019 said Parnesius, calmly. \u2018We mended three\nshoulder-straps here and had a spear-head riveted. The forge was rented\nfrom the Government by a one-eyed smith from Carthage. I remember we\ncalled him Cyclops. He sold me a beaver-skin rug for my sister\u2019s room.\u2019\n\n\u2018But it couldn\u2019t have been here,\u2019 Dan insisted.\n\n\u2018But it was! From the Altar of Victory at Anderida to the First Forge in\nthe Forest here is twelve miles seven hundred paces. It is all in the Road\nBook. A man doesn\u2019t forget his first march. I think I could tell you every\nstation between this and\u2014\u2014\u2019 He leaned forward, but his eye was caught by\nthe setting sun.\n\nIt had come down to the top of Cherry Clack Hill, and the light poured in\nbetween the tree trunks so that you could see red and gold and black deep\ninto the heart of Far Wood; and Parnesius in his armour shone as though he\nhad been afire.\n\n\u2018Wait,\u2019 he said, lifting a hand, and the sunlight jinked on his glass\nbracelet. \u2018Wait! I pray to Mithras!\u2019\n\nHe rose and stretched his arms westward, with deep, splendid-sounding\nwords.\n\nThen Puck began to sing too, in a voice like bells tolling, and as he sang\nhe slipped from \u2018Volaterrae\u2019 to the ground, and beckoned the children to\nfollow. They obeyed; it seemed as though the voices were pushing them\nalong; and through the goldy-brown light on the beech leaves they walked,\nwhile Puck between them chanted something like this:\u2014\n\n  Cur mundus militat sub vana gloria\n  Cujus prosperitas est transitoria?\n  Tam cito labitur ejus potentia\n  Quam vasa figuli qu\u00e6 sunt fragilia.\n\nThey found themselves at the little locked gates of the wood.\n\n  Quo C\u00e6sar abiit celsus imperio?\n  Vel Dives splendidus totus in prandio?\n  Dic ubi Tullius\u2014\u2014\n\nStill singing, he took Dan\u2019s hand and wheeled him round to face Una as she\ncame out of the gate. It shut behind her, at the same time as Puck threw\nthe memory-magicking Oak, Ash, and Thorn leaves over their heads.\n\n\u2018Well, you _are_ jolly late,\u2019 said Una. \u2018Couldn\u2019t you get away before?\u2019\n\n\u2018I did,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018I got away in lots of time, but\u2014but I didn\u2019t know it\nwas so late. Where\u2019ve you been?\u2019\n\n\u2018In Volaterrae\u2014waiting for you.\u2019\n\n\u2018Sorry,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018It was all that beastly Latin.\u2019\n\n\n\n\nA BRITISH-ROMAN SONG\n\n\n        (A. D. 406)\n\n  _My father\u2019s father saw it not,_\n    _And I, belike, shall never come,_\n  _To look on that so-holy spot\u2014_\n            _The very Rome\u2014_\n\n  _Crowned by all Time, all Art, all Might,_\n    _The equal work of Gods and Man\u2014_\n  _City beneath whose oldest height_\n            _The Race began,\u2014_\n\n  _Soon to send forth again a brood_\n    _Unshakeable, we pray, that clings,_\n  _To Rome\u2019s thrice-hammered hardihood\u2014_\n            _In arduous things._\n\n  _Strong heart with triple armour bound,_\n    _Beat strongly, for thy life-blood runs,_\n  _Age after Age, the Empire round\u2014_\n            _In us thy Sons,_\n\n  _Who, distant from the Seven Hills,_\n    _Loving and serving much, require_\n  _Thee, Thee to guard \u2019gainst home-born ills,_\n            _The Imperial Fire!_\n\n\n\n\n\nON THE GREAT WALL\n\n\n\n\nON THE GREAT WALL\n\n\n  When I left Rome for Lalage\u2019s sake\n    By the Legions\u2019 Road to Rimini,\n  She vowed her heart was mine to take\n    With me and my shield to Rimini\u2014\n    (Till the Eagles flew from Rimini!)\n      And I\u2019ve tramped Britain and I\u2019ve tramped Gaul\n      And the Pontic shore where the snow-flakes fall\n    As white as the neck of Lalage\u2014\n    As cold as the heart of Lalage!\n      And I\u2019ve lost Britain and I\u2019ve lost Gaul\n\n(the voice seemed very cheerful about it),\n\n      And I\u2019ve lost Rome, and worst of all,\n        I\u2019ve lost Lalage!\n\nThey were standing by the gate to Far Wood when they heard this song.\nWithout a word they hurried to their private gap and wriggled through the\nhedge almost atop of a jay that was feeding from Puck\u2019s hand.\n\n\u2018Gently!\u2019 said Puck. \u2018What are you looking for?\u2019\n\n\u2018Parnesius, of course,\u2019 Dan answered. \u2018We\u2019ve only just remembered\nyesterday. It isn\u2019t fair.\u2019\n\nPuck chuckled as he rose. \u2018I\u2019m sorry, but children who spend the afternoon\nwith me and a Roman Centurion need a little settling dose of Magic before\nthey go to tea with their governess. Oh\u00e9, Parnesius!\u2019 he called.\n\n\u2018Here, Faun!\u2019 came the answer from \u2018Volaterrae.\u2019 They could see the\nshimmer of bronze armour in the beech crotch, and the friendly flash of\nthe great shield uplifted.\n\n\u2018I have driven out the Britons.\u2019 Parnesius laughed like a boy. \u2018I occupy\ntheir high forts. But Rome is merciful! You may come up.\u2019 And up they\nthree all scrambled.\n\n\u2018What was the song you were singing just now?\u2019 said Una, as soon as she\nhad settled herself.\n\n\u2018That? Oh, _Rimini_. It\u2019s one of the tunes that are always being born\nsomewhere in the Empire. They run like a pestilence for six months or a\nyear, till another one pleases the Legions, and then they march to\n_that_.\u2019\n\n\u2018Tell them about the marching, Parnesius. Few people nowadays walk from\nend to end of this country,\u2019 said Puck.\n\n\u2018The greater their loss. I know nothing better than the Long March when\nyour feet are hardened. You begin after the mists have risen, and you end,\nperhaps, an hour after sundown.\u2019\n\n\u2018And what do you have to eat?\u2019 Dan asked, promptly.\n\n\u2018Fat bacon, beans, and bread, and whatever wine happens to be in the\nrest-houses. But soldiers are born grumblers. Their very first day out, my\nmen complained of our water-ground British corn. They said it wasn\u2019t so\nfilling as the rough stuff that is ground in the Roman ox-mills. However,\nthey had to fetch and eat it.\u2019\n\n\u2018Fetch it? Where from?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018From that newly-invented water-mill below the Forge.\u2019\n\n\u2018That\u2019s Forge Mill\u2014_our_ Mill!\u2019 Una looked at Puck.\n\n\u2018Yes; yours,\u2019 Puck put in. \u2018How old did you think it was?\u2019\n\n\u2018I don\u2019t know. Didn\u2019t Sir Richard Dalyngridge talk about it?\u2019\n\n\u2018He did, and it was old in his day,\u2019 Puck answered. \u2018Hundreds of years\nold.\u2019\n\n\u2018It was new in mine,\u2019 said Parnesius. \u2018My men looked at the flour in their\nhelmets as though it had been a nest of adders. They did it to try my\npatience. But I\u2014addressed them, and we became friends. To tell the truth,\nthey taught me the Roman Step. You see, I\u2019d only served with\nquick-marching Auxiliaries. A Legion\u2019s pace is altogether different. It is\na long, slow stride, that never varies from sunrise to sunset. \u201cRome\u2019s\nRace\u2014Rome\u2019s Pace,\u201d as the proverb says. Twenty-four miles in eight hours,\nneither more nor less. Head and spear up, shield on your back,\ncuirass-collar open one hand\u2019s breadth\u2014and that\u2019s how you take the Eagles\nthrough Britain.\u2019\n\n\u2018And did you meet any adventures?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018There are no adventures South the Wall,\u2019 said Parnesius. \u2018The worst thing\nthat happened me was having to appear before a magistrate up North, where\na wandering philosopher had jeered at the Eagles. I was able to show that\nthe old man had deliberately blocked our road, and the magistrate told\nhim, out of his own Book, I believe, that, whatever his God might be, he\nshould pay proper respect to C\u00e6sar.\u2019\n\n\u2018What did you do?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Went on. Why should _I_ care for such things, my business being to reach\nmy station? It took me twenty days.\n\n\u2018Of course, the farther North you go the emptier are the roads. At last\nyou fetch clear of the forests and climb bare hills, where wolves howl in\nthe ruins of our cities that have been. No more pretty girls; no more\njolly magistrates who knew your Father when he was young, and invite you\nto stay with them; no news at the temples and way-stations except bad news\nof wild beasts. There\u2019s where you meet hunters, and trappers for the\nCircuses, prodding along chained bears and muzzled wolves. Your pony shies\nat them, and your men laugh.\n\n\u2018The houses change from gardened villas to shut forts with watch-towers of\ngrey stone, and great stone-walled sheepfolds, guarded by armed Britons of\nthe North Shore. In the naked hills beyond the naked houses, where the\nshadows of the clouds play like cavalry charging, you see puffs of black\nsmoke from the mines. The hard road goes on and on\u2014and the wind sings\nthrough your helmet-plume\u2014past altars to Legions and Generals forgotten,\nand broken statues of Gods and Heroes, and thousands of graves where the\nmountain foxes and hares peep at you. Red-hot in summer, freezing in\nwinter, is that big, purple heather country of broken stone.\n\n  [Illustration: \u2018There\u2019s where you meet hunters, and trappers for the\n  Circuses, prodding along chained bears and muzzled wolves.\u2019]\n\n\u2018Just when you think you are at the world\u2019s end, you see a smoke from East\nto West as far as the eye can turn, and then, under it, also as far as the\neye can stretch, houses and temples, shops and theatres, barracks, and\ngranaries, trickling along like dice behind\u2014always behind\u2014one long, low,\nrising and falling, and hiding and showing line of towers. And that is the\nWall!\u2019\n\n\u2018Ah!\u2019 said the children, taking breath.\n\n\u2018You may well,\u2019 said Parnesius. \u2018Old men who have followed the Eagles\nsince boyhood say nothing in the Empire is more wonderful than first sight\nof the Wall!\u2019\n\n\u2018Is it just a Wall? Like the one round the kitchen-garden?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018No, no! It is _the_ Wall. Along the top are towers with guard-houses,\nsmall towers, between. Even on the narrowest part of it three men with\nshields can walk abreast from guard-house to guard-house. A little curtain\nwall, no higher than a man\u2019s neck, runs along the top of the thick wall,\nso that from a distance you see the helmets of the sentries sliding back\nand forth like beads. Thirty feet high is the Wall, and on the Picts\u2019\nside, the North, is a ditch, strewn with blades of old swords and\nspear-heads set in wood, and tyres of wheels joined by chains. The Little\nPeople come there to steal iron for their arrow-heads.\n\n\u2018But the Wall itself is not more wonderful than the town behind it. Long\nago there were great ramparts and ditches on the South side, and no one\nwas allowed to build there. Now the ramparts are partly pulled down and\nbuilt over, from end to end of the Wall; making a thin town eighty miles\nlong. Think of it! One roaring, rioting, cockfighting, wolf-baiting,\nhorse-racing town, from Ituna on the West to Segedunum on the cold eastern\nbeach! On one side heather, woods and ruins where Picts hide, and on the\nother, a vast town\u2014long like a snake, and wicked like a snake. Yes, a\nsnake basking beside a warm wall!\n\n\u2018My Cohort, I was told, lay at Hunno, where the Great North Road runs\nthrough the Wall into the Province of Valentia.\u2019 Parnesius laughed\nscornfully. \u2018The Province of Valentia! We followed the road, therefore,\ninto Hunno town, and stood astonished. The place was a fair\u2014a fair of\npeoples from every corner of the Empire. Some were racing horses: some sat\nin wine-shops: some watched dogs baiting bears, and many gathered in a\nditch to see cocks fight. A boy not much older than myself, but I could\nsee he was an Officer, reined up before me and asked what I wanted.\n\n\u2018\u201cMy station,\u201d I said, and showed him my shield.\u2019 Parnesius held up his\nbroad shield with its three X\u2019s like letters on a beer-cask.\n\n\u2018\u201cLucky omen!\u201d said he. \u201cYour Cohort\u2019s the next tower to us, but they\u2019re\nall at the cock-fight. This is a happy place. Come and wet the Eagles.\u201d He\nmeant to offer me a drink.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhen I\u2019ve handed over my men,\u201d I said. I felt angry and ashamed.\n\n\u2018\u201cOh, you\u2019ll soon outgrow that sort of nonsense,\u201d he answered. \u201cBut don\u2019t\nlet me interfere with your hopes. Go on to the Statue of Roma Dea. You\ncan\u2019t miss it. The main road into Valentia!\u201d and he laughed and rode off.\nI could see the Statue not a quarter of a mile away, and there I went. At\nsome time or other the Great North Road ran under it into Valentia; but\nthe far end had been blocked up because of the Picts, and on the plaster a\nman had scratched, \u201cFinish!\u201d It was like marching into a cave. We grounded\nspears together, my little thirty, and it echoed in the barrel of the\narch, but none came. There was a door at one side painted with our number.\nWe prowled in, and I found a cook asleep, and ordered him to give us food.\nThen I climbed to the top of the Wall, and looked out over the Pict\ncountry, and I\u2014thought,\u2019 said Parnesius. \u2018The bricked-up arch with\n\u201cFinish!\u201d on the plaster was what shook me, for I was not much more than a\nboy.\u2019\n\n\u2018What a shame!\u2019 said Una. \u2018But did you feel happy after you\u2019d had a\ngood\u2014\u2014\u2019 Dan stopped her with a nudge.\n\n\u2018Happy?\u2019 said Parnesius. \u2018When the men of the Cohort I was to command came\nback unhelmeted from the cock-fight, their birds under their arms, and\nasked me who I was? No, I was not happy; but I made my new Cohort unhappy\ntoo.... I wrote my Mother I was happy, but, oh, my friends\u2019\u2014he stretched\narms over bare knees\u2014\u2018I would not wish my worst enemy to suffer as I\nsuffered through my first months on the Wall. Remember this: among the\nofficers was scarcely one, except myself (and I thought I had lost the\nfavour of Maximus, my General), scarcely one who had not done something of\nwrong or folly. Either he had killed a man, or taken money, or insulted\nthe magistrates, or blasphemed the Gods, and so had been sent to the Wall\nas a hiding-place from shame or fear. And the men were as the officers.\nRemember, also, that the Wall was manned by every breed and race in the\nEmpire. No two towers spoke the same tongue, or worshipped the same Gods.\nIn one thing only we were all equal. No matter what arms we had used\nbefore we came to the Wall, _on_ the Wall we were all archers, like the\nScythians. The Pict cannot run away from the arrow, or crawl under it. He\nis a bowman himself. _He_ knows!\u2019\n\n\u2018I suppose you were fighting Picts all the time,\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Picts seldom fight. I never saw a fighting Pict for half a year. The tame\nPicts told us they had all gone North.\u2019\n\n\u2018What is a tame Pict?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018A Pict\u2014there were many such\u2014who speaks a few words of our tongue, and\nslips across the Wall to sell ponies and wolf-hounds. Without a horse and\na dog, _and_ a friend, man would perish. The Gods gave me all three, and\nthere is no gift like friendship. Remember this\u2019\u2014Parnesius turned to\nDan\u2014\u2018when you become a young man. For your fate will turn on the first\ntrue friend you make.\u2019\n\n\u2018He means,\u2019 said Puck, grinning, \u2018that if you try to make yourself a\ndecent chap when you\u2019re young, you\u2019ll make rather decent friends when you\ngrow up. If you\u2019re a beast, you\u2019ll have beastly friends. Listen to the\nPious Parnesius on Friendship!\u2019\n\n\u2018I am not pious,\u2019 Parnesius answered, \u2018but I know what goodness means; and\nmy friend, though he was without hope, was ten thousand times better than\nI. Stop laughing, Faun!\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh Youth Eternal and All-believing,\u2019 cried Puck, as he rocked on the\nbranch above. \u2018Tell them about your Pertinax.\u2019\n\n\u2018He was that friend the Gods sent me\u2014the boy who spoke to me when I first\ncame. Little older than myself, commanding the Augusta Victoria Cohort on\nthe tower next to us and the Numidians. In virtue he was far my superior.\u2019\n\n\u2018Then why was he on the Wall?\u2019 Una asked, quickly. \u2018They\u2019d all done\nsomething bad. You said so yourself.\u2019\n\n\u2018He was the nephew, his Father had died, of a great rich man in Gaul who\nwas not always kind to his Mother. When Pertinax grew up, he discovered\nthis, and so his uncle shipped him off, by trickery and force, to the\nWall. We came to know each other at a ceremony in our Temple\u2014in the dark.\nIt was the Bull Killing,\u2019 Parnesius explained to Puck.\n\n\u2018_I_ see,\u2019 said Puck, and turned to the children. \u2018That\u2019s something you\nwouldn\u2019t quite understand. Parnesius means he met Pertinax in church.\u2019\n\n\u2018Yes\u2014in the Cave we first met, and we were both raised to the Degree of\nGryphons together.\u2019 Parnesius lifted his hand towards his neck for an\ninstant. \u2018He had been on the Wall two years, and knew the Picts well. He\ntaught me first how to take Heather.\u2019\n\n\u2018What\u2019s that?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Going out hunting in the Pict country with a tame Pict. You are quite\nsafe so long as you are his guest, and wear a sprig of heather where it\ncan be seen. If you went alone you would surely be killed, if you were not\nsmothered first in the bogs. Only the Picts know their way about those\nblack and hidden bogs. Old Allo, the one-eyed, withered little Pict from\nwhom we bought our ponies, was our special friend. At first we went only\nto escape from the terrible town, and to talk together about our homes.\nThen he showed us how to hunt wolves and those great red deer with horns\nlike Jewish candlesticks. The Roman-born officers rather looked down on us\nfor doing this, but we preferred the heather to their amusements. Believe\nme,\u2019 Parnesius turned again to Dan, \u2018a boy is safe from all things that\nreally harm when he is astride a pony or after a deer. Do you remember, O\nFaun,\u2019 he turned to Puck, \u2018the little altar I built to the Sylvan Pan by\nthe pine-forest beyond the brook?\u2019\n\n\u2018Which? The stone one with the line from Xenophon?\u2019 said Puck, in quite a\nnew voice.\n\n\u2018No. What do _I_ know of Xenophon? That was Pertinax\u2014after he had shot his\nfirst mountain-hare with an arrow\u2014by chance! Mine I made of round pebbles\nin memory of my first bear. It took me one happy day to build.\u2019 Parnesius\nfaced the children quickly.\n\n\u2018And that was how we lived on the Wall for two years\u2014a little scuffling\nwith the Picts, and a great deal of hunting with old Allo in the Pict\ncountry. He called us his children sometimes, and we were fond of him and\nhis barbarians, though we never let them paint us Pict fashion. The marks\nendure till you die.\u2019\n\n\u2018How\u2019s it done?\u2019 said Dan. \u2018Anything like tattooing?\u2019\n\n\u2018They prick the skin till the blood runs, and rub in coloured juices. Allo\nwas painted blue, green, and red from his forehead to his ankles. He said\nit was part of his religion. He told us about his religion (Pertinax was\nalways interested in such things), and as we came to know him well, he\ntold us what was happening in Britain behind the Wall. Many things took\nplace behind us in those days. And, by the Light of the Sun,\u2019 said\nParnesius, earnestly, \u2018there was not much that those little people did not\nknow! He told me when Maximus crossed over to Gaul, after he had made\nhimself Emperor of Britain, and what troops and emigrants he had taken\nwith him. _We_ did not get the news on the Wall till fifteen days later.\nHe told me what troops Maximus was taking out of Britain every month to\nhelp him to conquer Gaul; and I always found the numbers as he said.\nWonderful! And I tell another strange thing!\u2019\n\nHe jointed his hands across his knees, and leaned his head on the curve of\nthe shield behind him.\n\n\u2018Late in the summer, when the first frosts begin and the Picts kill their\nbees, we three rode out after wolf with some new hounds. Rutilianus, our\nGeneral, had given us ten days\u2019 leave, and we had pushed beyond the Second\nWall\u2014beyond the Province of Valentia\u2014into the higher hills, where there\nare not even any of Rome\u2019s old ruins. We killed a she-wolf before noon,\nand while Allo was skinning her he looked up and said to me, \u201cWhen you are\nCaptain of the Wall, my child, you won\u2019t be able to do this any more!\u201d\n\n\u2018I might as well have been made Prefect of Lower Gaul, so I laughed and\nsaid, \u201cWait till I am Captain.\u201d \u201cNo, don\u2019t wait,\u201d said Allo. \u201cTake my\nadvice and go home\u2014both of you.\u201d \u201cWe have no homes,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cYou\nknow that as well as we do. We\u2019re finished men\u2014thumbs down against both of\nus. Only men without hope would risk their necks on your ponies.\u201d The old\nman laughed one of those short Pict laughs\u2014like a fox barking on a frosty\nnight. \u201cI\u2019m fond of you two,\u201d he said. \u201cBesides, I\u2019ve taught you what\nlittle you know about hunting. Take my advice and go home.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWe can\u2019t,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019m out of favour with my General, for one thing;\nand for another, Pertinax has an uncle.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI don\u2019t know about his uncle,\u201d said Allo, \u201cbut the trouble with you,\nParnesius, is that your General thinks well of you.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cRoma Dea!\u201d said Pertinax, sitting up. \u201cWhat can you guess what Maximus\nthinks, you old horse-coper?\u201d\n\n\u2018Just then (you know how near the brutes creep when one is eating?) a\ngreat dog-wolf jumped out behind us, and away our rested hounds tore after\nhim, with us at their tails. He ran us far out of any country we\u2019d ever\nheard of, straight as an arrow till sunset, towards the sunset. We came at\nlast to long capes stretching into winding waters, and on a grey beach\nbelow us we saw ships drawn up. Forty-seven we counted\u2014not Roman galleys\nbut the raven-winged ships from the North where Rome does not rule. Men\nmoved in the ships, and the sun flashed on their helmets\u2014winged helmets of\nthe red-haired men from the North where Rome does not rule. We watched,\nand we counted, and we wondered; for though we had heard rumours\nconcerning these Winged Hats, as the Picts called them, never before had\nwe looked upon them.\n\n\u2018\u201cCome away! Come away!\u201d said Allo. \u201cMy Heather won\u2019t protect you here. We\nshall all be killed!\u201d His legs trembled like his voice. Back we went\u2014back\nacross the heather under the moon, till it was nearly morning, and our\npoor beasts stumbled on some ruins.\n\n\u2018When we woke, very stiff and cold, Allo was mixing the meal and water.\nOne does not light fires in the Pict country except near a village. The\nlittle men are always signalling to each other with smokes, and a strange\nsmoke brings them out buzzing like bees. They can sting, too!\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat we saw last night was a trading-station,\u201d said Allo. \u201cNothing but a\ntrading-station.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI do not like lies on an empty stomach,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cI suppose\u201d (he\nhad eyes like an eagle\u2019s), \u201cI suppose _that_ is a trading-station also?\u201d\nHe pointed to a smoke far off on a hill-top, ascending in what we call the\nPict\u2019s Call:\u2014Puff\u2014double-puff: double-puff\u2014puff! They make it by raising\nand dropping a wet hide on a fire.\n\n\u2018\u201cNo,\u201d said Allo, pushing the platter back into the bag. \u201cThat is for you\nand me. Your fate is fixed. Come.\u201d\n\n\u2018We came. When one takes Heather, one must obey one\u2019s Pict\u2014but that\nwretched smoke was twenty miles distant, well over on the east coast, and\nthe day was as hot as a bath.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhatever happens,\u201d said Allo, while our ponies grunted along, \u201cI want\nyou to remember me.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI shall not forget,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cYou have cheated me out of my\nbreakfast.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat is a handful of crushed oats to a Roman?\u201d he said. Then he laughed\nhis laugh that was not a laugh. \u201cWhat would you do if you were a handful\nof oats being crushed between the upper and lower stones of a mill?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI\u2019m Pertinax, not a riddle-guesser,\u201d said Pertinax.\n\n\u2018\u201cYou\u2019re a fool,\u201d said Allo. \u201cYour Gods and my Gods are threatened by\nstrange Gods, and all you can do is to laugh.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThreatened men live long,\u201d I said.\n\n\u2018\u201cI pray the Gods that may be true,\u201d he said. \u201cBut I ask you again not to\nforget me.\u201d\n\n\u2018We climbed the last hot hill and looked out on the eastern sea, three or\nfour miles off. There was a small sailing-galley of the North Gaul pattern\nat anchor, her landing-plank down and her sail half up; and below us,\nalone in a hollow, holding his pony, sat Maximus, Emperor of Britain! He\nwas dressed like a hunter, and he leaned on his little stick; but I knew\nthat back as far as I could see it, and I told Pertinax.\n\n\u2018\u201cYou\u2019re madder than Allo!\u201d he said. \u201cIt must be the sun!\u201d\n\n\u2018Maximus never stirred till we stood before him. Then he looked me up and\ndown, and said: \u201cHungry again? It seems to be my destiny to feed you\nwhenever we meet. I have food here. Allo shall cook it.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo,\u201d said Allo. \u201cA Prince in his own land does not wait on wandering\nEmperors. I feed my two children without asking your leave.\u201d He began to\nblow up the ashes.\n\n\u2018\u201cI was wrong,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cWe are all mad. Speak up, O Madman called\nEmperor!\u201d\n\n\u2018Maximus smiled his terrible tight-lipped smile, but two years on the Wall\ndo not make a man afraid of mere looks. So I was not afraid.\n\n\u2018\u201cI meant you, Parnesius, to live and die an Officer of the Wall,\u201d said\nMaximus. \u201cBut it seems from these,\u201d he fumbled in his breast, \u201cyou can\nthink as well as draw.\u201d He pulled out a roll of letters I had written to\nmy people, full of drawings of Picts, and bears, and men I had met on the\nWall. Mother and my sister always liked my pictures.\n\n\u2018He handed me one that I had called \u201cMaximus\u2019s Soldiers.\u201d It showed a row\nof fat wine-skins, and our old Doctor of the Hunno hospital snuffing at\nthem. Each time that Maximus had taken troops out of Britain to help him\nto conquer Gaul, he used to send the garrisons more wine\u2014to keep them\nquiet, I suppose. On the Wall, we always called a wine-skin a \u201cMaximus.\u201d\nOh, yes; and I had drawn them in Imperial helmets!\n\n\u2018\u201cNot long since,\u201d he went on, \u201cmen\u2019s names were sent up to C\u00e6sar for\nsmaller jokes than this.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cTrue, C\u00e6sar,\u201d said Pertinax; \u201cbut you forget that was before I, your\nfriend\u2019s friend, became such a good spear-thrower.\u201d\n\n\u2018He did not actually point his hunting spear at Maximus, but balanced it\non his palm\u2014so!\n\n\u2018\u201cI was speaking of time past,\u201d said Maximus, never fluttering an eyelid.\n\u201cNowadays one is only too pleased to find boys who can think for\nthemselves, _and_ their friends.\u201d He nodded at Pertinax. \u201cYour Father lent\nme the letters, Parnesius, so you run no risk from me.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNone whatever,\u201d said Pertinax, and rubbed the spear-point on his sleeve.\n\n\u2018\u201cI have been forced to reduce the garrisons in Britain, because I need\ntroops in Gaul. Now I come to take troops from the Wall itself,\u201d said he.\n\n\u2018\u201cI wish you joy of us,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cWe\u2019re the last sweepings of the\nEmpire\u2014the men without hope. Myself, I\u2019d sooner trust condemned\ncriminals.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYou think so?\u201d he said, quite seriously. \u201cBut it will only be till I win\nGaul. One must always risk one\u2019s life, or one\u2019s soul, or one\u2019s peace\u2014or\nsome little thing.\u201d\n\n\u2018Allo passed round the fire with the sizzling deer\u2019s meat. He served us\ntwo first.\n\n\u2018\u201cAh!\u201d said Maximus, waiting his turn. \u201cI perceive you are in your own\ncountry. Well, you deserve it. They tell me you have quite a following\namong the Picts, Parnesius.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI have hunted with them,\u201d I said. \u201cMaybe I have a few friends among the\nHeather.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe is the only armoured man of you all who understands us,\u201d said Allo,\nand he began a long speech about our virtues, and how we had saved one of\nhis grandchildren from a wolf the year before.\u2019\n\n\u2018Had you?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Yes; but that was neither here nor there. The little green man orated\nlike a\u2014like Cicero. He made us out to be magnificent fellows. Maximus\nnever took his eyes off our faces.\n\n\u2018\u201cEnough,\u201d he said. \u201cI have heard Allo on you. I wish to hear you on the\nPicts.\u201d\n\n\u2018I told him as much as I knew, and Pertinax helped me out. There is never\nharm in a Pict if you but take the trouble to find out what he wants.\nTheir real grievance against us came from our burning their heather. The\nwhole garrison of the Wall moved out twice a year, and solemnly burned the\nheather for ten miles North. Rutilianus, our General, called it clearing\nthe country. The Picts, of course, scampered away, and all we did was to\ndestroy their bee-bloom in the summer, and ruin their sheep-food in the\nspring.\n\n\u2018\u201cTrue, quite true,\u201d said Allo. \u201cHow can we make our holy heather-wine, if\nyou burn our bee-pasture?\u201d\n\n\u2018We talked long, Maximus asking keen questions that showed he knew much\nand had thought more about the Picts. He said presently to me: \u201cIf I gave\nyou the old Province of Valentia to govern, could you keep the Picts\ncontented till I won Gaul? Stand away, so that you do not see Allo\u2019s face;\nand speak your own thoughts.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cYou cannot re-make that Province. The Picts have been free\ntoo long.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cLeave them their village councils, and let them furnish their own\nsoldiers,\u201d he said. \u201cYou, I am sure, would hold the reins very lightly.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cEven then, no,\u201d I said. \u201cAt least not now. They have been too oppressed\nby us to trust anything with a Roman name for years and years.\u201d\n\n\u2018I heard old Allo behind me mutter: \u201cGood child!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThen what do you recommend,\u201d said Maximus, \u201cto keep the North quiet till\nI win Gaul?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cLeave the Picts alone,\u201d I said. \u201cStop the heather-burning at once,\nand\u2014they are improvident little animals\u2014send them a shipload or two of\ncorn now and then.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cTheir own men must distribute it\u2014not some cheating Greek accountant,\u201d\nsaid Pertinax.\n\n\u2018\u201cYes, and allow them to come to our hospitals when they are sick,\u201d I\nsaid.\n\n\u2018\u201cSurely they would die first,\u201d said Maximus.\n\n\u2018\u201cNot if Parnesius brought them in,\u201d said Allo. \u201cI could show you twenty\nwolf-bitten, bear-clawed Picts within twenty miles of here. But Parnesius\nmust stay with them in Hospital, else they would go mad with fear.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201c_I_ see,\u201d said Maximus. \u201cLike everything else in the world, it is one\nman\u2019s work. You, I think, are that one man.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cPertinax and I are one,\u201d I said.\n\n\u2018\u201cAs you please, so long as you work. Now, Allo, you know that I mean your\npeople no harm. Leave us to talk together,\u201d said Maximus.\n\n\u2018\u201cNo need!\u201d said Allo. \u201cI am the corn between the upper and lower\nmillstones. I must know what the lower millstone means to do. These boys\nhave spoken the truth as far as they know it. I, a Prince, will tell you\nthe rest. I am troubled about the Men of the North.\u201d He squatted like a\nhare in the heather, and looked over his shoulder.\n\n\u2018\u201cI also,\u201d said Maximus, \u201cor I should not be here.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cListen,\u201d said Allo. \u201cLong and long ago the Winged Hats\u201d\u2014he meant the\nNorthmen\u2014\u201ccame to our beaches and said, \u2018Rome falls! Push her down!\u2019 We\nfought you. You sent men. We were beaten. After that we said to the Winged\nHats, \u2018You are liars! Make our men alive that Rome killed, and we will\nbelieve you.\u2019 They went away ashamed. Now they come back bold, and they\ntell the old tale, which we begin to believe\u2014that Rome falls!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGive me three years\u2019 peace on the Wall,\u201d cried Maximus, \u201cand I will show\nyou and all the ravens how they lie!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAh, I wish it too! I wish to save what is left of the corn from the\nmillstones. But you shoot us Picts when we come to borrow a little iron\nfrom the Iron Ditch; you burn our heather, which is all our crop; you\ntrouble us with your great catapults. Then you hide behind the Wall, and\nscorch us with Greek fire. How can I keep my young men from listening to\nthe Winged Hats\u2014in winter especially, when we are hungry? My young men\nwill say, \u2018Rome can neither fight nor rule. She is taking her men out of\nBritain. The Winged Hats will help us to push down the Wall. Let us show\nthem the secret roads across the bogs.\u2019 Do _I_ want that? No!\u201d He spat\nlike an adder. \u201c_I_ would keep the secrets of my people though I were\nburned alive. My two children here have spoken truth. Leave us Picts\nalone. Comfort us, and cherish us, and feed us from far off\u2014with the hand\nbehind your back. Parnesius understands us. Let _him_ have rule on the\nWall, and I will hold my young men quiet for\u201d\u2014he ticked it off on his\nfingers\u2014\u201cone year easily: the next year not so easily: the third year,\nperhaps! See, I give you three years. If then you do not show us that Rome\nis strong in men and terrible in arms, the Winged Hats, I tell you, will\nsweep down the Wall from either sea till they meet in the middle, and you\nwill go. _I_ shall not grieve over that, but well I know tribe never helps\ntribe except for one price. We Picts will go too. The Winged Hats will\ngrind us to this!\u201d He tossed a handful of dust in the air.\n\n\u2018\u201cOh, Roma Dea!\u201d said Maximus, half aloud. \u201cIt is always one man\u2019s\nwork\u2014always and everywhere!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd one man\u2019s life,\u201d said Allo. \u201cYou are Emperor, but not a God. You may\ndie.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI have thought of that, too,\u201d said he. \u201cVery good. If this wind holds, I\nshall be at the East end of the Wall by morning. To-morrow, then, I shall\nsee you two when I inspect; and I will make you Captains of the Wall for\nthis work.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cOne instant, C\u00e6sar,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cAll men have their price. I am not\nbought yet.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cDo _you_ also begin to bargain so early?\u201d said Maximus. \u201cWell?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGive me justice against my uncle Icenus, the Duumvir of Divio in Gaul,\u201d\nhe said.\n\n\u2018\u201cOnly a life? I thought it would be money or an office. Certainly you\nshall have him. Write his name on these tablets\u2014on the red side; the other\nis for the living!\u201d And Maximus held out his tablets.\n\n\u2018\u201cHe is of no use to me dead,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cMy mother is a widow. I am\nfar off. I am not sure he pays her all her dowry.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo matter. My arm is reasonably long. We will look through your uncle\u2019s\naccounts in due time. Now, farewell till to-morrow, O Captains of the\nWall!\u201d\n\n\u2018We saw him grow small across the heather as he walked to the galley.\nThere were Picts, scores, each side of him, hidden behind stones. He never\nlooked left or right. He sailed away Southerly, full spread before the\nevening breeze, and when we had watched him out to sea, we were silent. We\nunderstood Earth bred few men like to this man.\n\n\u2018Presently Allo brought the ponies and held them for us to mount\u2014a thing\nhe had never done before.\n\n\u2018\u201cWait awhile,\u201d said Pertinax, and he made a little altar of cut turf, and\nstrewed heather-bloom atop, and laid upon it a letter from a girl in Gaul.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat do you do, O my friend?\u201d I said.\n\n\u2018\u201cI sacrifice to my dead youth,\u201d he answered, and, when the flames had\nconsumed the letter, he ground them out with his heel. Then we rode back\nto that Wall of which we were to be Captains.\u2019\n\nParnesius stopped. The children sat still, not even asking if that were\nall the tale. Puck beckoned, and pointed the way out of the wood. \u2018Sorry,\u2019\nhe whispered, \u2018but you must go now.\u2019\n\n\u2018We haven\u2019t made him angry, have we?\u2019 said Una. \u2018He looks so far off,\nand\u2014and\u2014thinky.\u2019\n\n\u2018Bless your heart, no. Wait till to-morrow. It won\u2019t be long. Remember,\nyou\u2019ve been playing \u201c_Lays of Ancient Rome_.\u201d\u2019\n\nAnd as soon as they had scrambled through their gap, where Oak, Ash and\nThorn grow, that was all they remembered.\n\n\n\n\nA SONG TO MITHRAS\n\n\n  _Mithras, God of the Morning, our trumpets waken the Wall!_\n  _\u2018Rome is above the Nations, but Thou art over all!\u2019_\n  _Now as the names are answered and the guards are marched away,_\n  _Mithras, also a soldier, give us strength for the day!_\n\n  _Mithras, God of the Noontide, the heather swims in the heat,_\n  _Our helmets scorch our foreheads; our sandals burn our feet!_\n  _Now in the ungirt hour; now ere we blink and drowse,_\n  _Mithras, also a soldier, keep us true to our vows!_\n\n  _Mithras, God of the Sunset, low on the Western main,_\n  _Thou descending immortal, immortal to rise again!_\n  _Now when the watch is ended, now when the wine is drawn,_\n  _Mithras, also a soldier, keep us pure till the dawn!_\n\n  _Mithras, God of the Midnight, here where the great bull lies,_\n  _Look on thy children in darkness. Oh take our sacrifice!_\n  _Many roads Thou hast fashioned: all of them lead to the Light,_\n  _Mithras, also a soldier, teach us to die aright!_\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE WINGED HATS\n\n\n\n\nTHE WINGED HATS\n\n\nThe next day happened to be what they called a Wild Afternoon. Father and\nMother went out to pay calls; Miss Blake went for a ride on her bicycle,\nand they were left all alone till eight o\u2019clock.\n\nWhen they had seen their dear parents and their dear preceptress politely\noff the premises they got a cabbage-leaf full of raspberries from the\ngardener, and a Wild Tea from Ellen. They ate the raspberries to prevent\ntheir squashing, and they meant to divide the cabbage-leaf with Three Cows\ndown at the Theatre, but they came across a dead hedgehog which they\nsimply _had_ to bury, and the leaf was too useful to waste.\n\nThen they went on to the Forge and found old Hobden the hedger at home\nwith his son the Bee Boy who is not quite right in his head, but who can\npick up swarms of bees in his naked hands; and the Bee Boy told them the\nrhyme about the slow-worm:\u2014\n\n  \u2018If I had eyes _as_ I could see,\n  No mortal man would trouble me.\u2019\n\nThey all had tea together by the hives, and Hobden said the loaf-cake\nwhich Ellen had given them was almost as good as what his wife used to\nmake, and he showed them how to set a wire at the right height for hares.\nThey knew about rabbits already.\n\nThen they climbed up Long Ditch into the lower end of Far Wood. This is\nsadder and darker than the \u2018Volaterrae\u2019 end because of an old marlpit full\nof black water, where weepy, hairy moss hangs round the stumps of the\nwillows and alders. But the birds come to perch on the dead branches, and\nHobden says that the bitter willow-water is a sort of medicine for sick\nanimals.\n\nThey sat down on a felled oak-trunk in the shadows of the beech\nundergrowth, and were looping the wires Hobden had given them, when they\nsaw Parnesius.\n\n\u2018How quietly you came!\u2019 said Una, moving up to make room. \u2018Where\u2019s Puck?\u2019\n\n\u2018The Faun and I have disputed whether it is better that I should tell you\nall my tale, or leave it untold,\u2019 he replied.\n\n\u2018I only said that if he told it as it happened you wouldn\u2019t understand\nit,\u2019 said Puck, jumping up like a squirrel from behind the log.\n\n\u2018I don\u2019t understand all of it,\u2019 said Una, \u2018but I like hearing about the\nlittle Picts.\u2019\n\n\u2018What _I_ can\u2019t understand,\u2019 said Dan, \u2018is how Maximus knew all about the\nPicts when he was over in Gaul.\u2019\n\n\u2018He who makes himself Emperor anywhere must know everything, everywhere,\u2019\nsaid Parnesius. \u2018We had this much from Maximus\u2019 mouth after the Games.\u2019\n\n\u2018Games? What games?\u2019 said Dan.\n\nParnesius stretched his arm out stiffly, thumb pointed to the ground.\n\u2018Gladiators! _That_ sort of game,\u2019 he said. \u2018There were two days\u2019 Games in\nhis honour when he landed all unexpected at Segedunum on the East end of\nthe Wall. Yes, the day after we had met him we held two days\u2019 games; but I\nthink the greatest risk was run, not by the poor wretches on the sand, but\nby Maximus. In the old days the Legions kept silence before their Emperor.\nSo did not we! You could hear the solid roar run West along the Wall as\nhis chair was carried rocking through the crowds. The garrison beat round\nhim\u2014clamouring, clowning, asking for pay, for change of quarters, for\nanything that came into their wild heads. That chair was like a little\nboat among waves, dipping and falling, but always rising again after one\nhad shut the eyes.\u2019 Parnesius shivered.\n\n\u2018Were they angry with him?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018No more angry than wolves in a cage when their trainer walks among them.\nIf he had turned his back an instant, or for an instant had ceased to hold\ntheir eyes, there would have been another Emperor made on the Wall that\nhour. Was it not so, Faun?\u2019\n\n\u2018So it was. So it always will be,\u2019 said Puck.\n\n\u2018Late in the evening his messenger came for us, and we followed to the\nTemple of Victory, where he lodged with Rutilianus, the General of the\nWall. I had hardly seen the General before, but he always gave me leave\nwhen I wished to take Heather. He was a great glutton, and kept five Asian\ncooks, and he came of a family that believed in oracles. We could smell\nhis good dinner when we entered, but the tables were empty. He lay\nsnorting on a couch. Maximus sat apart among long rolls of accounts. Then\nthe doors were shut.\n\n\u2018\u201cThese are your men,\u201d said Maximus to the General, who propped his\neye-corners open with his gouty fingers, and stared at us like a fish.\n\n\u2018\u201cI shall know them again, C\u00e6sar,\u201d said Rutilianus.\n\n\u2018\u201cVery good,\u201d said Maximus. \u201cNow hear! You are not to move man or shield\non the Wall except as these boys shall tell you. You will do nothing,\nexcept eat, without their permission. They are the head and arms. You are\nthe belly!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAs C\u00e6sar pleases,\u201d the old man grunted. \u201cIf my pay and profits are not\ncut, you may make my Ancestors\u2019 Oracle my master. Rome has been! Rome has\nbeen!\u201d Then he turned on his side to sleep.\n\n\u2018\u201cHe has it,\u201d said Maximus. \u201cWe will get to what _I_ need.\u201d\n\n\u2018He unrolled full copies of the number of men and supplies on the\nWall\u2014down to the sick that very day in Hunno Hospital. Oh, but I groaned\nwhen his pen marked off detachment after detachment of our best\u2014of our\nleast worthless men! He took two towers of our Scythians, two of our North\nBritish auxiliaries, two Numidian cohorts, the Dacians all, and half the\nBelgians. It was like an eagle pecking a carcass.\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd now, how many catapults have you?\u201d He turned up a new list, but\nPertinax laid his open hand there.\n\n\u2018\u201cNo, C\u00e6sar,\u201d said he. \u201cDo not tempt the Gods too far. Take men, or\nengines, but not both; else we refuse.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018Engines?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018The catapults of the Wall\u2014huge things forty feet high to the head\u2014firing\nnets of raw stone or forged bolts. Nothing can stand against them. He left\nus our catapults at last, but he took a C\u00e6sar\u2019s half of our men without\npity. We were a shell when he rolled up the lists!\n\n\u2018\u201cHail, C\u00e6sar! We, about to die, salute you!\u201d said Pertinax, laughing. \u201cIf\nany enemy even leans against the Wall now, it will tumble.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cGive me the three years Allo spoke of,\u201d he answered, \u201cand you shall have\ntwenty thousand men of your own choosing up here. But now it is a gamble\u2014a\ngame played against the Gods, and the stakes are Britain, Gaul, and\nperhaps, Rome. You play on my side?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWe will play, C\u00e6sar,\u201d I said for I had never met a man like this man.\n\n\u2018\u201cGood. To-morrow,\u201d said he, \u201cI proclaim you Captains of the Wall before\nthe troops.\u201d\n\n\u2018So we went into the moonlight, where they were cleaning the ground after\nthe Games. We saw great Roma Dea atop of the Wall, the frost on her\nhelmet, and her spear pointed towards the North Star. We saw the twinkle\nof night-fires all along the guard-towers, and the line of the black\ncatapults growing smaller and smaller in the distance. All these things we\nknew till we were weary; but that night they seemed very strange to us,\nbecause the next day we knew we were to be their masters.\n\n\u2018The men took the news well; but when Maximus went away with half our\nstrength, and we had to spread ourselves into the emptied towers, and the\ntownspeople complained that trade would be ruined, and the Autumn gales\nblew\u2014it was dark days for us two. Here Pertinax was more than my right\nhand. Being born and bred among the great country-houses in Gaul, he knew\nthe proper words to address to all\u2014from Roman-born Centurions to those\ndogs of the Third\u2014the Libyans. And he spoke to each as though that man\nwere as high-minded as himself. Now _I_ saw so strongly what things were\nneeded to be done, that I forgot things are only accomplished by means of\nmen. That was a mistake.\n\n\u2018I feared nothing from the Picts, at least for that year, but Allo warned\nme that the Winged Hats would soon come in from the sea at each end of the\nWall to prove to the Picts how weak we were. So I made ready in haste, and\nnone too soon. I shifted our best men to the ends of the Wall, and set up\nscreened catapults by the beach. The Winged Hats would drive in before the\nsnow-squalls\u2014ten or twenty boats at a time\u2014on Segedunum or Ituna,\naccording as the wind blew.\n\n\u2018Now a ship coming in to land men must furl her sail. If you wait till you\nsee her men gather up the sail\u2019s foot, your catapults can jerk a net of\nloose stones (bolts only cut through the cloth) into the bag of it. Then\nshe turns over, and the sea makes everything clean again. A few men may\ncome ashore, but very few.... It was not hard work, except the waiting on\nthe beach in blowing sand and snow. And that was how we dealt with the\nWinged Hats that winter.\n\n\u2018Early in the Spring, when the East winds blow like skinning-knives, they\ngathered again off the East end with many ships. Allo told me they would\nnever rest till they had taken a tower in open fight. Certainly they\nfought in the open. We dealt with them thoroughly through a long day: and\nwhen all was finished, one man dived clear of the wreckage of his ship,\nand swam towards shore. I waited, and a wave tumbled him at my feet.\n\n\u2018As I stooped, I saw he wore such a medal as I wear.\u2019 Parnesius raised his\nhand to his neck. \u2018Therefore, when he could speak, I addressed him a\ncertain Question which can only be answered in a certain manner. He\nanswered with the necessary Word\u2014the Word that belongs to the Degree of\nGryphons in the science of Mithras my God. I put my shield over him till\nhe could stand up. You see I am not short, but he was a head taller than\nI. He said: \u201cWhat now?\u201d I said: \u201cAt your pleasure, my brother, to stay or\ngo.\u201d\n\n\u2018He looked out across the surf. There remained one ship unhurt, beyond\nrange of our catapults. I checked the catapults and he waved her in. She\ncame as a hound comes to a master. When she was yet a hundred paces from\nthe beach, he flung back his hair, and swam out. They hauled him in, and\nwent away. I knew that those who worship Mithras are many and of all\nraces, so I did not think much more upon the matter.\n\n\u2018A month later I saw Allo with his horses\u2014by the Temple of Pan, O\nFaun!\u2014and he gave me a great necklace of gold studded with coral.\n\n\u2018At first I thought it was a bribe from some tradesman in the town\u2014meant\nfor old Rutilianus. \u201cNay,\u201d said Allo. \u201cThis is a gift from Amal, that\nWinged Hat whom you saved on the beach. He says you are a Man.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe is a Man, too. Tell him I can wear his gift,\u201d I answered.\n\n\u2018\u201cOh, Amal is a young fool; but, speaking as sensible men, your Emperor is\ndoing such great things in Gaul that the Winged Hats are anxious to be his\nfriends, or, better still, the friends of his servants. They think you and\nPertinax could lead them to victories.\u201d Allo looked at me like a one-eyed\nraven.\n\n\u2018\u201cAllo,\u201d I said, \u201cyou are the corn between the two millstones. Be content\nif they grind evenly, and don\u2019t thrust your hand between them.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI?\u201d said Allo. \u201cI hate Rome and the Winged Hats equally; but if the\nWinged Hats thought that some day you and Pertinax might join them against\nMaximus, they would leave you in peace while you considered. Time is what\nwe need\u2014you and I and Maximus. Let me carry a pleasant message back to the\nWinged Hats\u2014something for them to make a council over. We barbarians are\nall alike. We sit up half the night to discuss anything a Roman says. Eh?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWe have no men. We must fight with words,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cLeave it to\nAllo and me.\u201d\n\n\u2018So Allo carried word back to the Winged Hats that we would not fight them\nif they did not fight us; and they (I think they were a little tired of\nlosing men in the sea) agreed to a sort of truce. I believe Allo, who\nbeing a horse-dealer loved lies, also told them we might some day rise\nagainst Maximus as Maximus had risen against Rome.\n\n\u2018Indeed, they permitted the corn-ships which I sent to the Picts to pass\nNorth that season without harm. Therefore the Picts were well fed that\nwinter, and since they were in some sort my children, I was glad of it. We\nhad only two thousand men on the Wall, and I wrote many times to Maximus\nand begged\u2014prayed\u2014him to send me only one cohort of my old North British\ntroops. He could not spare them. He needed them to win more victories in\nGaul.\n\n\u2018Then came news that he had defeated and slain the Emperor Gratian, and\nthinking he must now be secure, I wrote again for men. He answered: \u201cYou\nwill learn that I have at last settled accounts with the pup Gratian.\nThere was no need that he should have died, but he became confused and\nlost his head, which is a bad thing to befall any Emperor. Tell your\nFather I am content to drive two mules only; for unless my old General\u2019s\nson thinks himself destined to destroy me, I shall rest Emperor of Gaul\nand Britain, and then you, my two children, will presently get all the men\nyou need. Just now I can spare none.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018What did he mean by his General\u2019s son?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018He meant Theodosius Emperor of Rome, who was the son of Theodosius the\nGeneral under whom Maximus had fought in the old Pict War. The two men\nnever loved each other, and when Gratian made the younger Theodosius\nEmperor of the East (at least, so I\u2019ve heard), Maximus carried on the war\nto the second generation. It was his fate, and it was his fall. But\nTheodosius the Emperor is a good man. As I know.\u2019 Parnesius was silent for\na moment and then continued.\n\n\u2018I wrote back to Maximus that, though we had peace on the Wall, I should\nbe happier with a few more men and some new catapults. He answered: \u201cYou\nmust live a little longer under the shadow of my victories, till I can see\nwhat young Theodosius intends. He may welcome me as a brother-Emperor, or\nhe may be preparing an army. In either case I cannot spare men just now.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018But he was always saying that,\u2019 cried Una.\n\n\u2018It was true. He did not make excuses; but thanks, as he said, to the news\nof his victories, we had no trouble on the Wall for a long, long time. The\nPicts grew fat as their own sheep among the heather, and as many of my men\nas lived were well exercised in their weapons. Yes, the Wall looked\nstrong. For myself, I knew how weak we were. I knew that if even a false\nrumour of any defeat to Maximus broke loose among the Winged Hats, they\nmight come down in earnest, and then\u2014the Wall must go! For the Picts I\nnever cared, but in those years I learned something of the strength of the\nWinged Hats. They increased their strength every day, but I could not\nincrease my men. Maximus had emptied Britain behind us, and I felt myself\nto be a man with a rotten stick standing before a broken fence to turn\nbulls.\n\n\u2018Thus, my friends, we lived on the Wall, waiting\u2014waiting\u2014waiting for the\nmen that Maximus never sent!\n\n\u2018Presently he wrote that he was preparing an army against Theodosius. He\nwrote\u2014and Pertinax read it over my shoulder in our quarters: \u201c_Tell your\nFather that my destiny orders me to drive three mules or be torn in pieces\nby them. I hope within a year to finish with Theodosius, son of\nTheodosius, once and for all. Then you shall have Britain to rule, and\nPertinax, if he chooses, Gaul. To-day I wish strongly you were with me to\nbeat my Auxiliaries into shape. Do not, I pray you, believe any rumour of\nmy sickness. I have a little evil in my old body which I shall cure by\nriding swiftly into Rome._\u201d\n\n\u2018Said Pertinax: \u201cIt is finished with Maximus! He writes as a man without\nhope. I, a man without hope, can see this. What does he add at the bottom\nof the roll? \u2018_Tell __Pertinax I have met his late Uncle, the Duumvir of\nDivio, and that he accounted to me quite truthfully for all his Mother\u2019s\nmonies. I have sent her with a fitting escort, for she is the mother of a\nhero, to Nic\u00e6a, where the climate is warm._\u2019\n\n\u2018\u201cThat is proof!\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cNic\u00e6a is not far by sea from Rome. A\nwoman there could take ship and fly to Rome in time of war. Yes, Maximus\nforesees his death, and is fulfilling his promises one by one. But I am\nglad my Uncle met him.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYou think blackly to-day?\u201d I asked.\n\n\u2018\u201cI think truth. The Gods weary of the play we have played against them.\nTheodosius will destroy Maximus. It is finished!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWill you write him that?\u201d I said.\n\n\u2018\u201cSee what I shall write,\u201d he answered, and he took pen and wrote a letter\ncheerful as the light of day, tender as a woman\u2019s and full of jests. Even\nI, reading over his shoulder, took comfort from it till\u2014I saw his face!\n\n\u2018\u201cAnd now,\u201d he said, sealing it, \u201cwe be two dead men, my brother. Let us\ngo to the Temple.\u201d\n\n\u2018We prayed awhile to Mithras, where we had many times prayed before. After\nthat we lived day by day among evil rumours till winter came again.\n\n\u2018It happened one morning that we rode to the East Shore, and found on the\nbeach a fair-haired man, half frozen, bound to some broken planks. Turning\nhim over, we saw by his belt-buckle that he was a Goth of an Eastern\nLegion. Suddenly he opened his eyes and cried loudly: \u201cHe is dead! The\nletters were with me, but the Winged Hats sunk the ship.\u201d So saying, he\ndied between our hands.\n\n\u2018We asked not who was dead. We knew! We raced before the driving snow to\nHunno, thinking perhaps Allo might be there. We found him already at our\nstables, and he saw by our faces what we had heard.\n\n\u2018\u201cIt was in a tent by the Sea,\u201d he stammered. \u201cHe was beheaded by\nTheodosius. He sent a letter to you, written while he waited to be slain.\nThe Winged Hats met the ship and took it. The news is running through the\nheather like fire. Blame me not! I cannot hold back my young men any\nmore.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI would we could say as much for our men,\u201d said Pertinax, laughing.\n\u201cBut, Gods be praised, they cannot run away.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat do you do?\u201d said Allo. \u201cI bring an order\u2014a message\u2014from the Winged\nHats that you join them with your men, and march South to plunder\nBritain.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIt grieves me,\u201d said Pertinax, \u201cbut we are stationed here to stop that\nthing.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIf I carry back such an answer they will kill me,\u201d said Allo. \u201cI always\npromised the Winged Hats that you would rise when Maximus fell. I\u2014I did\nnot think he could fall.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cAlas! my poor barbarian,\u201d said Pertinax, still laughing. \u201cWell, you have\nsold us too many good ponies to be thrown back to your friends. We will\nmake you a prisoner, although you are an ambassador.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYes, that will be best,\u201d said Allo, holding out a halter. We bound him\nlightly, for he was an old man.\n\n\u2018\u201cPresently the Winged Hats may come to look for you, and that will give\nus more time. See how the habit of playing for time sticks to a man!\u201d said\nPertinax, as he tied the rope.\n\n\u2018\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cTime may help. If Maximus wrote us letters while he was a\nprisoner, Theodosius must have sent the ship that brought it. If he can\nsend ships, he can send men.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHow will that profit us?\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cWe serve Maximus, not\nTheodosius. Even if by some miracle of the Gods Theodosius down South sent\nand saved the Wall, we could not expect more than the death Maximus died.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIt concerns us to defend the Wall, no matter what Emperor dies, or makes\ndie,\u201d I said.\n\n\u2018\u201cThat is worthy of your brother the philosopher,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cMyself\nI am without hope, so I do not say solemn and stupid things! Rouse the\nWall!\u201d\n\n\u2018We armed the Wall from end to end; we told the officers that there was a\nrumour of Maximus\u2019s death which might bring down the Winged Hats, but we\nwere sure, even if it were true, that Theodosius, for the sake of Britain,\nwould send us help. Therefore, we must stand fast.... My friends, it is\nabove all things strange to see how men bear ill news! Often the strongest\ntill then become the weakest, while the weakest, as it were, reach up and\nsteal strength from the Gods. So it was with us. Yet my Pertinax by his\njests and his courtesy and his labours had put heart and training into our\npoor numbers during the past years\u2014more than I should have thought\npossible. Even our Libyan Cohort\u2014the Thirds\u2014stood up in their padded\ncuirasses and did not whimper.\n\n\u2018In three days came seven chiefs and elders of the Winged Hats. Among them\nwas that tall young man, Amal, whom I had met on the beach, and he smiled\nwhen he saw my necklace. We made them welcome, for they were ambassadors.\nWe showed them Allo, alive but bound. They thought we had killed him, and\nI saw it would not have vexed them if we had. Allo saw it too, and it\nvexed him. Then in our quarters at Hunno we came to Council.\n\n\u2018They said that Rome was falling, and that we must join them. They offered\nme all South Britain to govern after they had taken a tribute out of it.\n\n\u2018I answered, \u201cPatience. This Wall is not weighed off like plunder. Give me\nproof that my General is dead.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNay,\u201d said one elder, \u201cprove to us that he lives\u201d; and another said,\ncunningly, \u201cWhat will you give us if we read you his last words?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWe are not merchants to bargain,\u201d cried Amal. \u201cMoreover, I owe this man\nmy life. He shall have his proof.\u201d He threw across to me a letter (well I\nknew the seal) from Maximus.\n\n\u2018\u201cWe took this out of the ship we sunk,\u201d he cried. \u201cI cannot read, but I\nknow one sign, at least, which makes me believe.\u201d He showed me a dark\nstain on the outer roll that my heavy heart perceived was the valiant\nblood of Maximus.\n\n\u2018\u201cRead!\u201d said Amal. \u201cRead, and then let us hear whose servants you are!\u201d\n\n\u2018Said Pertinax, very softly, after he had looked through it: \u201cI will read\nit all. Listen, barbarians!\u201d He read from that which I have carried next\nmy heart ever since.\u2019\n\nParnesius drew from his neck a folded and spotted piece of parchment, and\nbegan in a hushed voice:\u2014\n\n\u2018\u201c_To Parnesius and Pertinax, the not unworthy Captains of the Wall, from\nMaximus, once Emperor of Gaul and Britain, now prisoner waiting death by\nthe sea in the camp of Theodosius\u2014Greeting and Good-bye!_\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cEnough,\u201d said young Amal; \u201cthere is your proof! You must join us now!\u201d\n\n\u2018Pertinax looked long and silently at him, till that fair man blushed like\na girl. Then read Pertinax:\u2014\n\n\u2018\u201c_I have joyfully done much evil in my life to those who have wished me\nevil, but if ever I did any evil to you two I repent, and I ask your\nforgiveness. The three mules which I strove to drive have torn me in\npieces as your Father prophesied. The naked swords wait at the tent door\nto give me the death I gave to Gratian. Therefore I, your General and your\nEmperor, send you free and honourable dismissal from my service, which you\nentered, not for money __or office, but, as it makes me warm to believe,\nbecause you loved me!_\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cBy the Light of the Sun,\u201d Amal broke in. \u201cThis was in some sort a Man!\nWe may have been mistaken in his servants!\u201d\n\n\u2018And Pertinax read on: \u201c_You gave me the time for which I asked. If I have\nfailed to use it, do not lament. We have gambled very splendidly against\nthe Gods, but they hold weighted dice, and I must pay the forfeit.\nRemember, I have been; but Rome is; and Rome will be! Tell Pertinax his\nMother is in safety at Nic\u00e6a, and her monies are in charge of the Prefect\nat Antipolis. Make my remembrances to your Father and to your Mother,\nwhose friendship was great gain to me. Give also to my little Picts and to\nthe Winged Hats such messages as their thick heads can understand. I would\nhave sent you three Legions this very day if all had gone aright. Do not\nforget me. We have worked together. Farewell! Farewell! Farewell!_\u201d\n\n\u2018Now, that was my Emperor\u2019s last letter.\u2019 (The children heard the\nparchment crackle as Parnesius returned it to its place.)\n\n\u2018\u201cI was mistaken,\u201d said Amal. \u201cThe servants of such a man will sell\nnothing except over the sword. I am glad of it.\u201d He held out his hand to\nme.\n\n\u2018\u201cBut Maximus has given you your dismissal,\u201d said an elder. \u201cYou are\ncertainly free to serve\u2014or to rule\u2014whom you please. Join\u2014do not\nfollow\u2014join us!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWe thank you,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cBut Maximus tells us to give you such\nmessages as\u2014pardon me, but I use his words\u2014your thick heads can\nunderstand.\u201d He pointed through the door to the foot of a catapult wound\nup.\n\n\u2018\u201cWe understand,\u201d said an elder. \u201cThe Wall must be won at a price?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIt grieves me,\u201d said Pertinax, laughing, \u201cbut so it must be won,\u201d and he\ngave them of our best Southern wine.\n\n\u2018They drank, and wiped their yellow beards in silence till they rose to\ngo.\n\n\u2018Said Amal, stretching himself (for they were barbarians), \u201cWe be a goodly\ncompany; I wonder what the ravens and the dogfish will make of some of us\nbefore this snow melts.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThink rather what Theodosius may send,\u201d I answered; and though they\nlaughed, I saw that my chance shot troubled them.\n\n\u2018Only old Allo lingered behind a little.\n\n\u2018\u201cYou see,\u201d he said, winking and blinking, \u201cI am no more than their dog.\nWhen I have shown their men the secret short ways across our bogs, they\nwill kick me like one.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThen I should not be in haste to show them those ways,\u201d said Pertinax,\n\u201ctill I were sure that Rome could not save the Wall.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYou think so? Woe is me!\u201d said the old man. \u201cI only wanted peace for my\npeople,\u201d and he went out stumbling through the snow behind the tall Winged\nHats.\n\n\u2018In this fashion then, slowly, a day at a time, which is very bad for\ndoubting troops, the War came upon us. At first the Winged Hats swept in\nfrom the sea as they had done before, and there we met them as before\u2014with\nthe catapults; and they sickened of it. Yet for a long time they would not\ntrust their duck-legs on land, and I think when it came to revealing the\nsecrets of the tribe, the little Picts were afraid or ashamed to show them\nall the roads across the heather. I had this from a Pict prisoner. They\nwere as much our spies as our enemies, for the Winged Hats oppressed them,\nand took their winter stores. Ah, foolish Little People!\n\n\u2018Then the Winged Hats began to roll us up from each end of the Wall. I\nsent runners Southward to see what the news might be in Britain; but the\nwolves were very bold that winter among the deserted stations where the\ntroops had once been, and none came back. We had trouble too with the\nforage for the ponies along the Wall. I kept ten, and so did Pertinax. We\nlived and slept in the saddle riding east or west, and we ate our worn-out\nponies. The people of the town also made us some trouble till I gathered\nthem all in one quarter behind Hunno. We broke down the Wall on either\nside of it to make as it were a citadel. Our men fought better in close\norder.\n\n\u2018By the end of the second month we were deep in the War as a man is deep\nin a snow-drift or in a dream. I think we fought in our sleep. At least I\nknow I have gone on the Wall and come off again, remembering nothing\nbetween, though my throat was harsh with giving orders, and my sword, I\ncould see, had been used.\n\n\u2018The Winged Hats fought like wolves\u2014all in a pack. Where they had suffered\nmost, there they charged in most hotly. This was hard for the defender,\nbut it held them from sweeping on into Britain.\n\n\u2018In those days Pertinax and I wrote on the plaster of the bricked archway\ninto Valentia the names of the towers, and the days on which they fell one\nby one. We wished for some record.\n\n\u2018And the fighting? The fight was always hottest to left and right of the\ngreat Statue of Roma Dea, near to Rutilianus\u2019 house. By the light of the\nSun, that old fat man, whom we had not considered at all, grew young again\namong the trumpets! I remember he said his sword was an oracle! \u201cLet us\nconsult the Oracle,\u201d he would say, and put the handle against his ear, and\nshake his head wisely. \u201cAnd _this_ day is allowed Rutilianus to live,\u201d he\nwould say, and, tucking up his cloak, he would puff and pant and fight\nwell. Oh, there were jests in plenty on the Wall to take the place of\nfood!\n\n\u2018We endured for two months and seventeen days\u2014always being pressed from\nthree sides into a smaller space. Several times Allo sent in word that\nhelp was at hand. We did not believe it, but it cheered our men.\n\n\u2018The end came not with shoutings of joy, but, like the rest, as in a\ndream. The Winged Hats suddenly left us in peace for one night, and the\nnext day; which is too long for spent men. We slept at first lightly,\nexpecting to be roused, and then like logs, each where he lay. May you\nnever need such sleep! When I waked our towers were full of strange, armed\nmen, who watched us snoring. I roused Pertinax, and we leaped up together.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat?\u201d said a young man in clean armour. \u201cDo you fight against\nTheodosius? Look!\u201d\n\n\u2018North we looked over the red snow. No Winged Hats were there. South we\nlooked over the white snow, and behold there were the Eagles of two strong\nLegions encamped. East and west we saw flame and fighting, but by Hunno\nall was still.\n\n\u2018\u201cTrouble no more,\u201d said the young man. \u201cRome\u2019s arm is long. Where are the\nCaptains of the Wall?\u201d\n\n\u2018We said we were those men.\n\n\u2018\u201cBut you are old and grey-haired,\u201d he cried. \u201cMaximus said that they were\nboys.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYes that was true some years ago,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cWhat is our fate to\nbe, you fine and well-fed child?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI am called Ambrosius, a secretary of the Emperor,\u201d he answered. \u201cShow\nme a certain letter which Maximus wrote from a tent at Aquileia, and\nperhaps I will believe.\u201d\n\n\u2018I took it from my breast, and when he had read it he saluted us, saying:\n\u201cYour fate is in your own hands. If you choose to serve Theodosius, he\nwill give you a Legion. If it suits you to go to your homes, we will give\nyou a Triumph.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI would like better a bath, wine, food, razors, soaps, oils, and\nscents,\u201d said Pertinax, laughing.\n\n\u2018\u201cOh, I see you are a boy,\u201d said Ambrosius. \u201cAnd you?\u201d turning to me.\n\n\u2018\u201cWe bear no ill-will against Theodosius, but in War\u2014\u2014\u201d I began.\n\n\u2018\u201cIn War it is as it is in Love,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cWhether she be good or\nbad, one gives one\u2019s best once, to one only. That given, there remains no\nsecond worth giving or taking.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThat is true,\u201d said Ambrosius. \u201cI was with Maximus before he died. He\nwarned Theodosius that you would never serve him, and frankly I say I am\nsorry for my Emperor.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe has Rome to console him,\u201d said Pertinax. \u201cI ask you of your kindness\nto let us go to our homes and get this smell out of our nostrils.\u201d\n\n\u2018None the less they gave us a Triumph!\u2019\n\n\n\n\u2018It was well earned,\u2019 said Puck, throwing some leaves into the still water\nof the marlpit. The black, oily circles spread dizzily as the children\nwatched them.\n\n\u2018I want to know, oh, ever so many things,\u2019 said Dan, \u2018What happened to old\nAllo? Did the Winged Hats ever come back? And what did Amal do?\u2019\n\n\u2018And what happened to the fat old General with the five cooks?\u2019 said Una.\n\u2018And what did your Mother say when you came home?\u2019...\n\n\u2018She\u2019d say you\u2019re settin\u2019 too long over this old pit, so late as \u2019tis\nalready,\u2019 said old Hobden\u2019s voice behind them. \u2018Hst!\u2019 he whispered.\n\nHe stood still, for not twenty paces away a magnificent dog-fox sat on his\nhaunches and looked at the children as though he were an old friend of\ntheirs.\n\n\u2018Oh, Mus\u2019 Reynolds, Mus\u2019 Reynolds!\u2019 said Hobden, under his breath. \u2018If I\nknowed all was inside your head, I\u2019d know something wuth knowin\u2019. Mus\u2019 Dan\nan\u2019 Miss Una, come along o\u2019 me while I lock up my liddle hen-house.\u2019\n\n\n\n\nA PICT SONG\n\n\n  _Rome never looks where she treads,_\n    _Always her heavy hooves fall,_\n  _On our stomachs, our hearts or our heads;_\n    _And Rome never heeds when we bawl._\n  _Her sentries pass on\u2014that is all,_\n    _And we gather behind them in hordes,_\n  _And plot to reconquer the Wall,_\n    _With only our tongues for our swords._\n\n  _We are the Little Folk\u2014we!_\n    _Too little to love or to hate._\n  _Leave us alone and you\u2019ll see_\n    _How we can drag down the Great!_\n  _We are the worm in the wood!_\n    _We are the rot at the root!_\n  _We are the germ in the blood!_\n    _We are the thorn in the foot!_\n\n  _Mistletoe killing an oak\u2014_\n    _Rats gnawing cables in two\u2014_\n  _Moths making holes in a cloak\u2014_\n    _How they must love what they do!_\n  _Yes,\u2014and we Little Folk too,_\n    _We are as busy as they\u2014_\n  _Working our works out of view\u2014_\n    _Watch, and you\u2019ll see it some day!_\n\n  _No indeed! We are not strong,_\n    _But we know Peoples that are._\n  _Yes, and we\u2019ll guide them along,_\n    _To smash and destroy you in War!_\n  _We shall be slaves just the same?_\n    _Yes, we have always been slaves;_\n  _But you\u2014you will die of the shame,_\n    _And then we shall dance on your graves!_\n\n    _We are the Little Folk, we! etc._\n\n\n\n\n\nHAL O\u2019 THE DRAFT\n\n\n\n\n  _Prophets have honour all over the Earth,_\n    _Except in the village where they were born;_\n  _Where such as knew them boys from birth,_\n    _Nature-ally hold \u2019em in scorn._\n\n  _When Prophets are naughty and young and vain,_\n    _They make a won\u2019erful grievance of it;_\n  _(You can see by their writings how they __complain),_\n    _But O, \u2019tis won\u2019erful good for the Prophet!_\n\n  _There\u2019s nothing Nineveh Town can give,_\n    _(Nor being swallowed by whales between),_\n  _Makes up for the place where a man\u2019s folk live,_\n    _That don\u2019t care nothing what he has been._\n  _He might ha\u2019 been that, or he might ha\u2019 been this,_\n  _But they love and they hate him for what he is!_\n\n\n\n\nHAL O\u2019 THE DRAFT\n\n\nA rainy afternoon drove Dan and Una over to play pirates in the Little\nMill. If you don\u2019t mind rats on the rafters and oats in your shoes, the\nmill-attic, with its trap-doors and inscriptions on beams about floods and\nsweethearts, is a splendid place. It is lighted by a foot-square window,\ncalled Duck Window, that looks across to Little Lindens Farm, and the spot\nwhere Jack Cade was killed.\n\nWhen they had climbed the attic ladder (they called it the \u2018mainmast tree\u2019\nout of the ballad of Sir Andrew Barton, and Dan \u2018swarved it with might and\nmain,\u2019 as the ballad says) they saw a man sitting on Duck window-sill. He\nwas dressed in a plum-coloured doublet and tight plum-coloured hose, and\nhe drew busily in a red-edged book.\n\n\u2018Sit ye! Sit ye!\u2019 Puck cried from a rafter overhead. \u2018See what it is to be\nbeautiful! Sir Harry Dawe\u2014pardon, Hal\u2014says I am the very image of a head\nfor a gargoyle.\u2019\n\nThe man laughed and raised his dark velvet cap to the children, and his\ngrizzled hair bristled out in a stormy fringe. He was old\u2014forty at\nleast\u2014but his eyes were young, with funny little wrinkles all round them.\nA satchel of embroidered leather hung from his broad belt, which looked\ninteresting.\n\n\u2018May we see?\u2019 said Una, coming forward.\n\n\u2018Surely\u2014sure-ly!\u2019 he said, moving up on the window-seat, and returned to\nhis work with a silver-pointed pencil. Puck sat as though the grin were\nfixed for ever on his broad face, while they watched the quick, certain\nfingers that copied it. Presently the man took a reed pen from his\nsatchel, and trimmed it with a little ivory knife, carved in the semblance\nof a fish.\n\n\u2018Oh, what a beauty!\u2019 cried Dan.\n\n\u2018\u2019Ware fingers! That blade is perilous sharp. I made it myself of the best\nLow Country cross-bow steel. And so, too, this fish. When his back-fin\ntravels to his tail\u2014so\u2014he swallows up the blade, even as the whale\nswallowed Gaffer Jonah.... Yes, and that\u2019s my ink-horn. I made the four\nsilver saints round it. Press Barnabas\u2019s head. It opens, and then\u2014\u2014\u2019 He\ndipped the trimmed pen, and with careful boldness began to put in the\nessential lines of Puck\u2019s rugged face, that had been but faintly revealed\nby the silver-point.\n\nThe children gasped, for it fairly leaped from the page.\n\nAs he worked, and the rain fell on the tiles, he talked\u2014now clearly, now\nmuttering, now breaking off to frown or smile at his work. He told them he\nwas born at Little Lindens Farms, and his father used to beat him for\ndrawing things instead of doing things, till an old priest called Father\nRoger, who drew illuminated letters in rich people\u2019s books, coaxed the\nparents to let him take the boy as a sort of painter\u2019s apprentice. Then he\nwent with Father Roger to Oxford, where he cleaned plates and carried\ncloaks and shoes for the scholars of a College called Merton.\n\n\u2018Didn\u2019t you hate that?\u2019 said Dan after a great many other questions.\n\n\u2018I never thought on\u2019t. Half Oxford was building new colleges or\nbeautifying the old, and she had called to her aid the master-craftsmen of\nall Christendie\u2014kings in their trade and honoured of Kings. I knew them. I\nworked for them: that was enough. No wonder\u2014\u2014\u2019 He stopped and laughed.\n\n\u2018You became a great man,\u2019 said Puck.\n\n\u2018They said so, Robin. Even Bramante said so.\u2019\n\n\u2018Why? What did you do?\u2019 Dan asked.\n\nThe artist looked at him queerly. \u2018Things in stone and such, up and down\nEngland. You would not have heard of \u2019em. To come nearer home, I\nre-builded this little St. Bartholomew\u2019s church of ours. It cost me more\ntrouble and sorrow than aught I\u2019ve touched in my life. But \u2019twas a sound\nlesson.\u2019\n\n\u2018Um,\u2019 said Dan. \u2018We had lessons this morning.\u2019\n\n\u2018I\u2019ll not afflict ye, lad,\u2019 said Hal, while Puck roared. \u2018Only \u2019tis\nstrange to think how that little church was re-built, re-roofed, and made\nglorious, thanks to some few godly Sussex iron-masters, a Bristol sailor\nlad, a proud ass called Hal o\u2019 the Draft because, d\u2019you see, he was always\ndrawing and drafting; and\u2019\u2014he dragged the words slowly\u2014\u2018_and_ a Scotch\npirate.\u2019\n\n\u2018Pirate?\u2019 said Dan. He wriggled like a hooked fish.\n\n\u2018Even that Andrew Barton you were singing of on the stair just now.\u2019 He\ndipped again in the ink-well, and held his breath over a sweeping line, as\nthough he had forgotten everything else.\n\n\u2018Pirates don\u2019t build churches, do they?\u2019 said Dan. \u2018Or _do_ they?\u2019\n\n\u2018They help mightily,\u2019 Hal laughed. \u2018But you were at your lessons this\nmorn, Jack Scholar?\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh, pirates aren\u2019t lessons. It was only Bruce and his silly old spider,\u2019\nsaid Una. \u2018Why did Sir Andrew Barton help you?\u2019\n\n\u2018I question if he ever knew it,\u2019 said Hal, twinkling. \u2018Robin, how\na-mischief\u2019s name am I to tell these innocents what comes of sinful\npride?\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh, we know all about _that_,\u2019 said Una pertly. \u2018If you get too\nbeany\u2014that\u2019s cheeky\u2014you get sat upon, of course.\u2019\n\nHal considered a moment, pen in air, and Puck said some long words.\n\n\u2018Aha! That was my case too,\u2019 he cried. \u2018Beany\u2014you say\u2014but certainly I did\nnot conduct myself well. I was proud of\u2014of such things as porches\u2014a\nGalilee porch at Lincoln for choice\u2014proud of one Torrigiano\u2019s arm on my\nshoulder, proud of my knighthood when I made the gilt scroll-work for _The\nSovereign_\u2014our King\u2019s ship. But Father Roger sitting in Merton Library, he\ndid not forget me. At the top of my pride, when I and no other should have\nbuilded the porch at Lincoln, he laid it on me with a terrible forefinger\nto go back to my Sussex clays and re-build, at my own charges, my own\nchurch, where we Dawes have been buried for six generations. \u201cOut! Son of\nmy Art!\u201d said he. \u201cFight the Devil at home ere you call yourself a man and\na craftsman.\u201d And I quaked, and I went.... How\u2019s yon, Robin?\u2019 He\nflourished the finished sketch before Puck.\n\n\u2018Me! Me past peradventure,\u2019 said Puck, smirking like a man at a mirror.\n\u2018Ah, see! The rain has took off! I hate housen in daylight.\u2019\n\n\u2018Whoop! Holiday!\u2019 cried Hal, leaping up. \u2018Who\u2019s for my Little Lindens? We\ncan talk there.\u2019\n\nThey tumbled downstairs, and turned past the dripping willows by the sunny\nmill dam.\n\n\u2018Body o\u2019 me,\u2019 said Hal, staring at the hop-garden, where the hops were\njust ready to blossom. \u2018What are these vines? No, not vines, and they\ntwine the wrong way to beans.\u2019 He began to draw in his ready book.\n\n\u2018Hops. New since your day,\u2019 said Puck. \u2018They\u2019re an herb of Mars, and their\nflowers dried flavour ale. We say:\u2014\n\n  \u2018\u201cTurkeys, Heresy, Hops, and Beer\n  Came into England all in one year.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018Heresy I know. I\u2019ve seen Hops\u2014God be praised for their beauty! What is\nyour Turkis?\u2019\n\nThe children laughed. They knew the Lindens turkeys, and as soon as they\nreached Lindens\u2019 orchard on the hill the flock charged at them.\n\nOut came Hal\u2019s book at once. \u2018Hoity-toity!\u2019 he cried. \u2018Here\u2019s Pride in\npurple feathers! Here\u2019s wrathy contempt and the Pomps of the Flesh! How\nd\u2019you call _them_?\u2019\n\n\u2018Turkeys! Turkeys!\u2019 the children shouted, as the old gobbler raved and\nflamed against Hal\u2019s plum-coloured hose.\n\n\u2018Save Your Magnificence!\u2019 he said. \u2018I\u2019ve drafted two good new things\nto-day.\u2019 And he doffed his cap to the bubbling bird.\n\nThen they walked through the grass to the knoll where Little Lindens\nstands. The old farm-house, weather-tiled to the ground, took almost the\ncolour of a blood-ruby in the afternoon light. The pigeons pecked at the\nmortar in the chimney-stacks; the bees that had lived under the tiles\nsince it was built filled the hot August air with their booming; and the\nsmell of the box-tree by the dairy-window mixed with the smell of earth\nafter rain, bread after baking, and a tickle of wood-smoke.\n\nThe farmer\u2019s wife came to the door, baby on arm, shaded her brows against\nthe sun, stooped to pluck a sprig of rosemary, and turned down the\norchard. The old spaniel in his barrel barked once or twice to show he was\nin charge of the empty house. Puck clicked back the garden-gate.\n\n\u2018D\u2019you marvel that I love it?\u2019 said Hal, in a whisper. \u2018What can town folk\nknow of the nature of housen\u2014or land?\u2019\n\n  [Illustration: \u2018Hoity-toity,\u2019 he cried. \u2018Here\u2019s Pride in purple\n  feathers! Here\u2019s wrathy contempt and the Pomps of the Flesh!\u2019... And\n  he doffed his cap to the bubbling bird.]\n\nThey perched themselves arow on the old hacked oak bench in Lindens\u2019\ngarden, looking across the valley of the brook at the fern-covered dimples\nand hollows of the Forge behind Hobden\u2019s cottage. The old man was cutting\na faggot in his garden by the hives. It was quite a second after his\nchopper fell that the chump of the blow reached their lazy ears.\n\n\u2018Eh\u2014yeh!\u2019 said Hal. \u2018I mind when where that old gaffer stands was Nether\nForge\u2014Master John Collins\u2019s foundry. Many a night has his big trip-hammer\nshook me in my bed here. _Boom-bitty! Boom-bitty!_ If the wind was east, I\ncould hear Master Tom Collins\u2019s forge at Stockens answering his brother,\n_Boom-oop! Boom-oop!_ and midway between, Sir John Pelham\u2019s sledge-hammers\nat Brightling would strike in like a pack o\u2019scholars, and \u201c_Hic-haec-hoc_\u201d\nthey\u2019d say, \u201c_Hic-haec-hoc_,\u201d till I fell asleep. Yes. The valley was as\nfull o\u2019 forges and fineries as a May shaw o\u2019 cuckoos. All gone to grass\nnow!\u2019\n\n\u2018What did they make?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Guns for the King\u2019s ships\u2014and for others. Serpentines and cannon mostly.\nWhen the guns were cast, down would come the King\u2019s Officers, and take our\nplough-oxen to haul them to the coast. Look! Here\u2019s one of the first and\nfinest craftsmen of the Sea!\u2019\n\nHe fluttered back a page of his book, and showed them a young man\u2019s head.\nUnderneath was written: \u2018Sebastianus.\u2019\n\n\u2018He came down with a King\u2019s Order on Master John Collins for twenty\nserpentines (wicked little cannon they be!) to furnish a venture of ships.\nI drafted him thus sitting by our fire telling Mother of the new lands\nhe\u2019d find the far side the world. And he found them, too! There\u2019s a nose\nto cleave through unknown seas! Cabot was his name\u2014a Bristol lad\u2014half a\nforeigner. I set a heap by him. He helped me to my church-building.\u2019\n\n\u2018I thought that was Sir Andrew Barton,\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Ay, but foundations before roofs,\u2019 Hal answered. \u2018Sebastian first put me\nin the way of it. I had come down here, not to serve God as a craftsman\nshould, but to show my people how great a craftsman I was. They cared not,\nand it served me right, one split straw for my craft or my greatness. What\na murrain call had I, they said, to mell with old St. Barnabas\u2019s? Ruinous\nthe church had been since the Black Death, and ruinous she should remain;\nand I could hang myself in my new scaffold-ropes! Gentle and simple, high\nand low\u2014the Hayes, the Fowles, the Fanners, the Collinses\u2014they were all in\na tale against me. Only Sir John Pelham up yonder to Brightling bade me\nheart-up and go on. Yet how could I? Did I ask Master Collins for his\ntimber-tug to haul beams? The oxen had gone to Lewes after lime. Did he\npromise me a set of iron cramps or ties for the roof? They never came to\nhand, or else they were spaulty or cracked. So with everything. Nothing\nsaid, but naught done except I stood by them, and then done amiss. I\nthought the countryside was fair bewitched.\u2019\n\n\u2018It was, sure-ly,\u2019 said Puck, knees under chin. \u2018Did you never suspect any\none?\u2019\n\n\u2018Not till Sebastian came for his guns, and John Collins played him the\nsame dog\u2019s tricks as he\u2019d played me with my ironwork. Week in, week out,\ntwo of three serpentines would be flawed in the casting, and only fit,\nthey said, to be remelted. Then John Collins would shake his head, and vow\nhe could pass no cannon for the King\u2019s service that were not perfect.\nSaints! How Sebastian stormed! _I_ know, for we sat on this bench sharing\nour sorrows inter-common.\n\n\u2018When Sebastian had fumed away six weeks at Lindens and gotten just six\nserpentines, Dirk Brenzett, Master of the _Cygnet_ hoy, sends me word that\nthe block of stone he was fetching me from France for our new font he\u2019d\nhove overboard to lighten his ship, chased by Andrew Barton up to Rye\nPort.\u2019\n\n\u2018Ah! The pirate!\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Yes. And while I am tearing my hair over this, Ticehurst Will, my best\nmason, comes to me shaking, and vowing that the Devil, horned, tailed, and\nchained, has run out on him from the church-tower, and the men would work\nthere no more. So I took \u2019em off the foundations, which we were\nstrengthening, and went into the Bell Tavern for a cup of ale. Says Master\nJohn Collins: \u201cHave it your own way, lad; but if I was you, I\u2019d take the\nsinnification o\u2019 the sign, and leave old Barnabas\u2019s Church alone!\u201d And\nthey all wagged their sinful heads, and agreed. Less afraid of the Devil\nthan of me\u2014as I saw later.\n\n\u2018When I brought my sweet news to Lindens, Sebastian was limewashing the\nkitchen-beams for Mother. He loved her like a son.\n\n\u2018\u201cCheer up, lad,\u201d he says. \u201cGod\u2019s where He was. Only you and I chance to\nbe pure pute asses! We\u2019ve been tricked, Hal, and more shame to me, a\nsailor, that I did not guess it before! You must leave your belfry alone,\nforsooth, because the Devil is adrift there; and I cannot get my\nserpentines because John Collins cannot cast them aright. Meantime Andrew\nBarton hawks off the Port of Rye. And why? To take those very serpentines\nwhich poor Cabot must whistle for; the said serpentines, I\u2019ll wager my\nshare of new Continents, being now hid away in St. Barnabas church tower.\nClear as the Irish coast at noonday!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThey\u2019d sure never dare to do it,\u201d I said; \u201cand for another thing,\nselling cannon to the King\u2019s enemies is black treason\u2014hanging and fine.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIt is sure large profit. Men\u2019ll dare any gallows for that. I have been a\ntrader myself,\u201d says he. \u201cWe must be upsides with \u2019em for the honour of\nBristol.\u201d\n\n\u2018Then he hatched a plot, sitting on the lime-wash bucket. We gave out to\nride o\u2019 Tuesday to London and made a show of making farewells of our\nfriends\u2014especially of Master John Collins. But at Wadhurst Woods we\nturned; rode by night to the watermeadows; hid our horses in a willow-tot\nat the foot of the glebe, and stole a-tiptoe up hill to Barnabas\u2019s church\nagain. A thick mist, and a moon coming through.\n\n\u2018I had no sooner locked the tower-door behind us than over goes Sebastian\nfull length in the dark.\n\n\u2018\u201cPest!\u201d he says. \u201cStep high and feel low, Hal. I\u2019ve stumbled over guns\nbefore.\u201d\n\n\u2018I groped, and one by one\u2014the tower was pitchy dark\u2014I counted the lither\nbarrels of twenty serpentines laid out on pease-straw. No conceal at all!\n\n\u2018\u201cThere\u2019s two demi-cannon my end,\u201d says Sebastian, slapping metal.\n\u201cThey\u2019ll be for Andrew Barton\u2019s lower deck. Honest\u2014honest John Collins! So\nthis is his warehouse, his arsenal, his armoury! Now, see you why your\npokings and pryings have raised the Devil in Sussex? You\u2019ve hindered\nJohn\u2019s lawful trade for months,\u201d and he laughed where he lay.\n\n\u2018A clay-cold tower is no fireside at midnight, so we climbed the belfry\nstairs, and there Sebastian trips over a cow-hide with its horns and tail.\n\n\u2018\u201cAha! Your Devil has left his doublet! Does it become me, Hal?\u201d He draws\nit on and capers in the slits of window-moonlight\u2014won\u2019erful devilish-like.\nThen he sits on the stair, rapping with his tail on a board, and his\nback-aspect was dreader than his front; and a howlet lit in, and screeched\nat the horns of him.\n\n\u2018\u201cIf you\u2019d keep out the Devil, shut the door,\u201d he whispered. \u201cAnd that\u2019s\nanother false proverb, Hal, for I can hear your tower-door opening.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI locked it. Who a-plague has another key, then?\u201d I said.\n\n\u2018\u201cAll the congregation, to judge by their feet,\u201d he says, and peers into\nthe blackness. \u201cStill! Still, Hal! Hear \u2019em grunt! That\u2019s more o\u2019 my\nserpentines, I\u2019ll be bound. One\u2014two\u2014three\u2014four they bear in! Faith, Andrew\nequips himself like an admiral! Twenty-four serpentines in all!\u201d\n\n\u2018As if it had been an echo, we heard John Collins\u2019s voice come up all\nhollow: \u201cTwenty-four serpentines and two demi-cannon. That\u2019s the full\ntally for Sir Andrew Barton.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cCourtesy costs naught,\u201d whispers Sebastian. \u201cShall I drop my dagger on\nhis head?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThey go over to Rye o\u2019 Thursday in the wool-wains, hid under the wool\npacks. Dirk Brenzett meets them at Udimore, as before,\u201d says John.\n\n\u2018\u201cLord! What a worn, handsmooth trade it is!\u201d says Sebastian. \u201cI lay we\nare the sole two babes in the village that have not our lawful share in\nthe venture.\u201d\n\n\u2018There was a full score folk below, talking like all Robertsbridge Market.\nWe counted them by voice.\n\n\u2018Master John Collins pipes: \u201cThe guns for the French carrack must lie here\nnext month. Will, when does your young fool (me, so please you!) come back\nfrom Lunnon?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNo odds,\u201d I heard Ticehurst Will answer. \u201cLay \u2019em just where you\u2019ve a\nmind, Mus\u2019 Collins. We\u2019re all too afraid o\u2019 the Devil to mell with the\ntower now.\u201d And the long knave laughed.\n\n\u2018\u201cAh! \u2019tis easy enow for you to raise the Devil, Will,\u201d says another\u2014Ralph\nHobden from the Forge.\n\n\u2018\u201cAaa-men!\u201d roars Sebastian, and ere I could hold him, he leaps down the\nstairs\u2014won\u2019erful devilish-like\u2014howling no bounds. He had scarce time to\nlay out for the nearest than they ran. Saints, how they ran! We heard them\npound on the door of the Bell Tavern, and then we ran too.\n\n\u2018\u201cWhat\u2019s next?\u201d says Sebastian, looping up his cow-tail as he leaped the\nbriars. \u201cI\u2019ve broke honest John\u2019s face.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cRide to Sir John Pelham\u2019s,\u201d I said. \u201cHe is the only one that ever stood\nby me.\u201d\n\n\u2018We rode to Brightling, and past Sir John\u2019s lodges, where the keepers\nwould have shot at us for deer-stealers, and we had Sir John down into his\nJustice\u2019s chair, and when we had told him our tale and showed him the\ncow-hide which Sebastian wore still girt about him, he laughed till the\ntears ran.\n\n\u2018\u201cWel-a-well!\u201d he says. \u201cI\u2019ll see justice done before daylight. What\u2019s\nyour complaint? Master Collins is my old friend.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cHe\u2019s none of mine,\u201d I cried. \u201cWhen I think how he and his likes have\nbaulked and dozened and cozened me at every turn over the church\u201d\u2014\u2014and I\nchoked at the thought.\n\n\u2018\u201cAh, but ye see now they needed it for another use,\u201d says he, smoothly.\n\n\u2018\u201cSo they did my serpentines,\u201d Sebastian cries. \u201cI should be half across\nthe Western Ocean by this if my guns had been ready. But they\u2019re sold to a\nScotch pirate by your old friend.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWhere\u2019s your proof?\u201d says Sir John, stroking his beard.\n\n\u2018\u201cI broke my shins over them not an hour since, and I heard John give\norder where they were to be taken,\u201d says Sebastian.\n\n\u2018\u201cWords! Words only,\u201d says Sir John. \u201cMaster Collins is somewhat of a liar\nat best.\u201d\n\n\u2018He carried it so gravely, that for the moment, I thought he was dipped in\nthis secret traffick too, and that there was not an honest ironmaster in\nSussex.\n\n\u2018\u201cName o\u2019 Reason!\u201d says Sebastian, and raps with his cow-tail on the\ntable, \u201cWhose guns are they, then?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cYours, manifestly,\u201d says Sir John. \u201cYou come with the King\u2019s Order for\n\u2019em, and Master Collins casts them in his foundry. If he chooses to bring\nthem up from Nether Forge and lay \u2019em out in the church tower, why they\nare e\u2019en so much the nearer to the main road and you are saved a day\u2019s\nhauling. What a coil to make of a mere act of neighbourly kindness, lad!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI fear I have requited him very scurvily,\u201d says Sebastian, looking at\nhis knuckles. \u201cBut what of the demi-cannon? I could do with \u2019em well, but\n_they_ are not in the King\u2019s Order.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cKindness\u2014loving-kindness,\u201d says Sir John. \u201cQuestionless, in his zeal for\nthe King and his love for you, John adds those two cannon as a gift. \u2019Tis\nplain as this coming daylight, ye stockfish!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cSo it is,\u201d says Sebastian. \u201cOh, Sir John, Sir John, why did you never\nuse the sea? You are lost ashore.\u201d And he looked on him with great love.\n\n\u2018\u201cI do my best in my station.\u201d Sir John strokes his beard again and rolls\nforth his deep drumming Justice\u2019s voice thus:\u2014\u201cBut\u2014suffer me!\u2014you two\nlads, on some midnight frolic into which I probe not, roystering around\nthe taverns, surprise Master Collins at his\u201d\u2014he thinks a moment\u2014\u201cat his\ngood deeds done by stealth. Ye surprise him, I say, cruelly.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cTruth, Sir John. If you had seen him run!\u201d says Sebastian.\n\n\u2018\u201cOn this you ride breakneck to me with a tale of pirates, and wool-wains,\nand cow-hides, which, though it hath moved my mirth as a man, offendeth my\nreason as a magistrate. So I will e\u2019en accompany you back to the tower\nwith, perhaps, some few of my own people, and three to four wagons, and\nI\u2019ll be your warrant that Master John Collins will freely give you your\nguns and your demi-cannon, Master Sebastian.\u201d He breaks into his proper\nvoice\u2014\u201cI warned the old tod and his neighbours long ago that they\u2019d come\nto trouble with their side-sellings and bye-dealings; but we cannot have\nhalf Sussex hanged for a little gun-running. Are ye content, lads?\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cI\u2019d commit any treason for two demi-cannon,\u201d said Sebastian, and rubs\nhis hands.\n\n\u2018\u201cYe have just compounded with rank treason-felony for the same bribe,\u201d\nsays Sir John. \u201cWherefore to horse, and get the guns.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018But Master Collins meant the guns for Sir Andrew Barton all along, didn\u2019t\nhe?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Questionless, that he did,\u2019 said Hal. \u2018But he lost them. We poured into\nthe village on the red edge of dawn, Sir John horsed, in half-armour, his\npennon flying; behind him thirty stout Brightling knaves, five abreast;\nbehind them four wool-wains, and behind them four trumpets to triumph over\nthe jest, blowing: _Our King went forth to Normandie_. When we halted and\nrolled the ringing guns out of the tower, \u2019twas for all the world like\nFriar Roger\u2019s picture of the French siege in the Queen\u2019s Missal-book.\u2019\n\n\u2018And what did we\u2014I mean, what did our village do?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Oh! Bore it nobly\u2014nobly,\u2019 cried Hal. \u2018Though they had tricked me, I was\nproud of us. They came out of their housen, looked at that little army as\nthough it had been a post, and went their shut-mouthed way. Never a sign!\nNever a word! They\u2019d ha\u2019 perished sooner than let Brightling overcrow us.\nEven that villain, Ticehurst Will, coming out of the Bell for his morning\nale, he all but ran under Sir John\u2019s horse.\n\n\u2018\u201cWare, Sirrah Devil!\u201d cries Sir John, reining back.\n\n\u2018\u201cOh!\u201d says Will. \u201cMarket day, is it? And all the bullocks from Brightling\nhere?\u201d\n\n\u2018I spared him his belting for that\u2014the brazen knave!\n\n\u2018But John Collins was our masterpiece! He happened along-street (his jaw\ntied up where Sebastian had clouted him) when we were trundling the first\ndemi-cannon through the lych-gate.\n\n\u2018\u201cI reckon you\u2019ll find her middlin\u2019 heavy,\u201d he says. \u201cIf you\u2019ve a mind to\npay, I\u2019ll loan ye my timber-tug. She won\u2019t lie easy on ary wool-wain.\u201d\n\n\u2018That was the one time I ever saw Sebastian taken flat aback. He opened\nand shut his mouth, fishy-like.\n\n\u2018\u201cNo offence,\u201d says Master John. \u201cYou\u2019ve got her reasonable good cheap. I\nthought ye might not grudge me a groat if I help move her.\u201d Ah, he was a\nmasterpiece! They say that morning\u2019s work cost our John two hundred\npounds, and he never winked an eyelid, not even when he saw the guns all\ncarted off to Lewes.\u2019\n\n\u2018Neither then nor later?\u2019 said Puck.\n\n\u2018Once. \u2019Twas after he gave St. Barnabas the new chime of bells. (Oh, there\nwas nothing the Collinses, or the Hayes, or the Fowles, or the Fanners\nwould not do for the church then! \u201cAsk and have\u201d was their song.) We had\nrung \u2019em in, and he was in the tower with Black Nick Fowle, that gave us\nour rood-screen. The old man pinches the bell-rope one hand and scratches\nhis neck with t\u2019other. \u201cSooner she was pulling yon clapper than my neck,\u201d\nhe says. That was all! That was Sussex\u2014seely Sussex for everlastin\u2019!\u2019\n\n\u2018And what happened after?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018I went back into England,\u2019 said Hal, slowly. \u2018I\u2019d had my lesson against\npride. But they tell me I left St. Barnabas\u2019s a jewel\u2014just about a jewel!\nWel-a-well! \u2019Twas done for and among my own people, and\u2014Father Roger was\nright\u2014I never knew such trouble or such triumph since. That\u2019s the nature\no\u2019 things. A dear\u2014dear land.\u2019 He dropped his chin on his chest.\n\n\u2018There\u2019s your Father at the Forge. What\u2019s he talking to old Hobden about?\u2019\nsaid Puck, opening his hand with three leaves in it.\n\nDan looked towards the cottage.\n\n\u2018Oh, I know. It\u2019s that old oak lying across the brook. Pater always wants\nit grubbed.\u2019\n\nIn the still valley they could hear old Hobden\u2019s deep tones.\n\n\u2018Have it _as_ you\u2019ve a mind to,\u2019 he was saying. \u2018But the vivers of her\nroots they hold the bank together. If you grub her out, the bank she\u2019ll\nall come tearin\u2019 down, an\u2019 next floods the brook\u2019ll swarve up. But have it\n_as_ you\u2019ve a mind. The mistuss she sets a heap by the ferns on her\ntrunk.\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh! I\u2019ll think it over,\u2019 said the Pater.\n\nUna laughed a little bubbling chuckle.\n\n\u2018What Devil\u2019s in _that_ belfry?\u2019 said Hal, with a lazy laugh. \u2018That should\nbe Hobden by his voice.\u2019\n\n\u2018Why, the oak is the regular bridge for all the rabbits between the Three\nAcre and our meadow. The best place for wires on the farm, Hobden says.\nHe\u2019s got two there now,\u2019 Una answered. \u2018_He_ won\u2019t ever let it be\ngrubbed!\u2019\n\n\u2018Ah, Sussex! Silly Sussex for everlastin\u2019,\u2019 murmured Hal; and the next\nmoment their Father\u2019s voice calling across to Little Lindens broke the\nspell as St. Barnabas\u2019s clock struck five.\n\n\n\n\nSMUGGLERS\u2019 SONG\n\n\n  _If you wake at midnight, and hear a horse\u2019s feet,_\n  _Don\u2019t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street,_\n  _Them that asks no questions isn\u2019t told a lie._\n  _Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!_\n\n      _Five and twenty ponies_\n      _Trotting through the dark;_\n      _Brandy for the Parson,_\n      _\u2019Baccy for the Clerk_\n      _Laces for a lady, letters for a spy,_\n\n  _And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!_\n\n  _Running round the woodlump if you chance to find_\n  _Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandywined;_\n  _Don\u2019t you shout to come and look, nor take \u2019em for your play;_\n  _Put the brishwood back again,\u2014and they\u2019ll be gone next day!_\n\n  _If you see the stableyard setting open wide;_\n  _If you see a tied horse lying down inside;_\n  _If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore;_\n  _If the lining\u2019s wet and warm\u2014don\u2019t you ask no more!_\n\n  _If you meet King George\u2019s men, dressed in blue and red,_\n  _You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said._\n  _If they call you \u2019pretty maid,\u2019 and chuck you \u2019neath the chin,_\n  _Don\u2019t you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one\u2019s been!_\n\n  _Knocks and footsteps round the house\u2014whistles after dark\u2014_\n  _You\u2019ve no call for running out till the house-dogs bark._\n  Trusty\u2019s _here, and_ Pincher\u2019s _here, and see how dumb they lie\u2014_\n  _They don\u2019t fret to follow when the Gentlemen go by!_\n\n  _If you do as you\u2019ve been told, likely there\u2019s a chance,_\n  _You\u2019ll be give a dainty doll, all the way from France,_\n  _With a cap of Valenciennes, and a velvet hood\u2014_\n  _A present from the Gentlemen, along o\u2019 being good!_\n\n      _Five and twenty ponies,_\n      _Trotting through the Park\u2014_\n      _Brandy for the Parson,_\n      _\u2019Baccy for the Clerk._\n\n  _Them that asks no questions isn\u2019t told a lie._\n  _Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!_\n\n\n\n\n\n\u2018DYMCHURCH FLIT\u2019\n\n\n\n\nTHE BEE BOY\u2019S SONG\n\n\n  Bees! Bees! Hark to the Bees!\n  \u2018Hide from your neighbours as much as you please,\n  But all that has happened to _us_ you must tell!\n  Or else we will give you no honey to sell.\u2019\n\n    _A maiden in her glory,_\n      _Upon her wedding-day,_\n    _Must tell her Bees the story,_\n      _Or else they\u2019ll fly away._\n        _Fly away\u2014die away\u2014_\n          _Dwindle down and leave you!_\n        _But if you don\u2019t deceive your Bees,_\n          _Your Bees will not deceive you!\u2014_\n\n    _Marriage, birth or buryin\u2019,_\n      _News across the seas,_\n    _All you\u2019re sad or merry in,_\n      _You must tell the Bees._\n        _Tell \u2019em coming in an\u2019 out,_\n          _Where the Fanners fan,_\n        _\u2019Cause the Bees are justabout_\n          _As curious as a man!_\n\n    _Don\u2019t you wait where trees are,_\n      _When the lightnings play;_\n    _Nor don\u2019t you hate where Bees are,_\n      _Or else they\u2019ll pine away._\n        _Pine away\u2014dwine away\u2014_\n          _Anything to leave you!_\n        _But if you never grieve your Bees,_\n          _Your Bees\u2019ll never grieve you._\n\n\n\n\n\u2018DYMCHURCH FLIT\u2019\n\n\nJust at dusk, a soft September rain began to fall on the hop-pickers. The\nmothers wheeled the bouncing perambulators out of the gardens; bins were\nput away, and tally-books made up. The young couples strolled home, two to\neach umbrella, and the single men walked behind them laughing. Dan and\nUna, who had been picking after their lessons, marched off to roast\npotatoes at the oast-house, where old Hobden, with Blue-eyed Bess, his\nlurcher-dog, lived all the month through, drying the hops.\n\nThey settled themselves, as usual, on the sack-strewn cot in front of the\nfires, and, when Hobden drew up the shutter, stared, as usual, at the\nflameless bed of coals spouting its heat up the dark well of the\nold-fashioned roundel. Slowly he cracked off a few fresh pieces of coal,\npacked them, with fingers that never flinched, exactly where they would do\nmost good; slowly he reached behind him till Dan tilted the potatoes into\nhis iron scoop of a hand; carefully he arranged them round the fire, and\nthen stood for a moment, black against the glare. As he closed the\nshutter, the oast-house seemed dark before the day\u2019s end, and he lit the\ncandle in the lanthorn. The children liked all these things because they\nknew them so well.\n\nThe Bee Boy, Hobden\u2019s son, who is not quite right in his head, though he\ncan do anything with bees, slipped in like a shadow. They only guessed it\nwhen Bess\u2019s stump-tail wagged against them.\n\nA big voice began singing outside in the drizzle:\u2014\n\n  \u2018Old Mother Laidinwool had nigh twelve months been dead,\n  She heard the hops were doing well, and then popped up her head.\u2019\n\n\u2018There can\u2019t be two people made to holler like that!\u2019 cried old Hobden,\nwheeling round.\n\n  \u2018For, says she, \u201cThe boys I\u2019ve picked with when I was young and fair,\n  They\u2019re bound to be at hoppin\u2019, and I\u2019m\u2014\u2014\u201d\u2019\n\nA man showed at the doorway.\n\n\u2018Well, well! They do say hoppin\u2019ll draw the very deadest; and now I\nbelieft \u2019em. You, Tom? Tom Shoesmith!\u2019 Hobden lowered his lanthorn.\n\n\u2018You\u2019re a hem of a time makin\u2019 your mind to it, Ralph!\u2019 The stranger\nstrode in\u2014three full inches taller than Hobden, a grey-whiskered,\nbrown-faced giant with clear blue eyes. They shook hands, and the children\ncould hear the hard palms rasp together.\n\n\u2018You ain\u2019t lost none o\u2019 your grip,\u2019 said Hobden. \u2018Was it thirty or forty\nyear back you broke my head at Peasmarsh Fair?\u2019\n\n\u2018Only thirty, an\u2019 no odds \u2019tween us regardin\u2019 heads, neither. You had it\nback at me with a hop-pole. How did we get home that night? Swimmin\u2019?\u2019\n\n\u2018Same way the pheasant come into Gubbs\u2019s pocket\u2014by a little luck an\u2019 a\ndeal o\u2019 conjurin\u2019.\u2019 Old Hobden laughed in his deep chest.\n\n\u2018I see you\u2019ve not forgot your way about the woods. D\u2019ye do any o\u2019 _this_\nstill?\u2019 The stranger pretended to look along a gun.\n\nHobden answered with a quick movement of the hand as though he were\npegging down a rabbit-wire.\n\n\u2018No. _That\u2019s_ all that\u2019s left me now. Age she must as Age she can. An\u2019\nwhat\u2019s your news since all these years?\u2019\n\n  \u2018Oh, I\u2019ve bin to Plymouth, I\u2019ve bin to Dover\u2014\n  I\u2019ve bin ramblin\u2019, boys, the wide world over,\u2019\n\nthe man answered cheerily. \u2018I reckon I know as much of Old England as\nmost.\u2019 He turned towards the children and winked boldly.\n\n\u2018I lay they told you a sight o\u2019 lies, then. I\u2019ve been into England fur as\nWiltsheer once. I was cheated proper over a pair of hedging-gloves,\u2019 said\nHobden.\n\n\u2018There\u2019s fancy-talkin\u2019 everywhere. _You\u2019ve_ cleaved to your own parts\npretty middlin\u2019 close, Ralph.\u2019\n\n\u2018Can\u2019t shift an old tree \u2019thout it dyin\u2019,\u2019 Hobden chuckled. \u2018An\u2019 I be no\nmore anxious to die than you look to be to help me with my hops to-night.\u2019\n\nThe great man leaned against the brickwork of the roundel, and swung his\narms abroad. \u2018Hire me!\u2019 was all he said, and they stumped upstairs\nlaughing.\n\nThe children heard their shovels rasp on the cloth where the yellow hops\nlie drying above the fires, and all the oast-house filled with the sweet,\nsleepy smell as they were turned.\n\n\u2018Who is it?\u2019 Una whispered to the Bee Boy.\n\n\u2018Dunno, no more\u2019n you\u2014if _you_ dunno,\u2019 said he, and smiled.\n\nThe voices on the drying-floor talked and chuckled together, and the heavy\nfootsteps went back and forth. Presently a hop-pocket dropped through the\npress-hole overhead, and stiffened and fattened as they shovelled it full.\n\u2018Clank!\u2019 went the press, and rammed the loose stuff into tight cake.\n\n\u2018Gently!\u2019 they heard Hobden cry. \u2018You\u2019ll bust her crop if you lay on so.\nYou be as careless as Gleason\u2019s bull, Tom. Come an\u2019 sit by the fires.\nShe\u2019ll do now.\u2019\n\nThey came down, and as Hobden opened the shutter to see if the potatoes\nwere done Tom Shoesmith said to the children, \u2018Put a plenty salt on \u2019em.\nThat\u2019ll show you the sort o\u2019 man _I_ be.\u2019 Again he winked, and again the\nBee Boy laughed and Una stared at Dan.\n\n\u2018_I_ know what sort o\u2019 man you be,\u2019 old Hobden grunted, groping for the\npotatoes round the fire.\n\n\u2018Do ye?\u2019 Tom went on behind his back. \u2018Some of us can\u2019t abide Horseshoes,\nor Church Bells, or Running Water; an\u2019, talkin\u2019 o\u2019 runnin\u2019 water\u2019\u2014he\nturned to Hobden, who was backing out of the roundel\u2014\u2018d\u2019you mind the great\nfloods at Robertsbridge, when the miller\u2019s man was drowned in the street?\u2019\n\n\u2018Middlin\u2019 well.\u2019 Old Hobden let himself down on the coals by the fire\ndoor. \u2018I was courtin\u2019 my woman on the Marsh that year. Carter to Mus\u2019 Plum\nI was\u2014gettin\u2019 ten shillin\u2019s week. Mine was a Marsh woman.\u2019\n\n\u2018Won\u2019erful odd-gates place\u2014Romney Marsh,\u2019 said Tom Shoesmith. \u2018I\u2019ve heard\nsay the world\u2019s divided like into Europe, Ashy, Afriky, Ameriky, Australy,\nan\u2019 Romney Marsh.\u2019\n\n\u2018The Marsh folk think so,\u2019 said Hobden. \u2018I had a hem o\u2019 trouble to get my\nwoman to leave it.\u2019\n\n\u2018Where did she come out of? I\u2019ve forgot, Ralph.\u2019\n\n\u2018Dymchurch under the Wall,\u2019 Hobden answered, a potato in his hand.\n\n\u2018Then she\u2019d be a Pett\u2014or a Whitgift, would she?\u2019\n\n\u2018Whitgift.\u2019 Hobden broke open the potato and ate it with the curious\nneatness of men who make most of their meals in the blowy open. \u2018She\ngrowed to be quite reasonable-like after livin\u2019 in the Weald awhile, but\nour first twenty year or two she was odd-fashioned, no bounds. And she was\na won\u2019erful hand with bees.\u2019 He cut away a little piece of potato and\nthrew it out to the door.\n\n\u2018Ah! I\u2019ve heard say the Whitgifts could see further through a millstone\nthan most,\u2019 said Shoesmith. \u2018Did she, now?\u2019\n\n\u2018She was honest-innocent, of any nigromancin\u2019,\u2019 said Hobden. \u2018Only she\u2019d\nread signs and sinnifications out o\u2019 birds flyin\u2019, stars fallin\u2019, bees\nhivin\u2019, and such. An\u2019 she\u2019d lie awake\u2014listenin\u2019 for calls, she said.\u2019\n\n\u2018That don\u2019t prove naught,\u2019 said Tom. \u2018All Marsh folk has been smugglers\nsince time everlastin\u2019. \u2019Twould be in her blood to listen out o\u2019 nights.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nature-ally,\u2019 old Hobden replied, smiling. \u2018I mind when there was\nsmugglin\u2019 a sight nearer us than the Marsh be. But that wasn\u2019t my woman\u2019s\ntrouble. \u2019Twas a passel o\u2019 no-sense talk,\u2019 he dropped his voice, \u2018about\nPharisees.\u2019\n\n\u2018Yes. I\u2019ve heard Marsh men beleft in \u2019em.\u2019 Tom looked straight at the\nwide-eyed children beside Bess.\n\n\u2018Pharisees,\u2019 cried Una. \u2018Fairies? Oh, I see!\u2019\n\n\u2018People o\u2019 the Hills,\u2019 said the Bee Boy, throwing half of his potato\ntowards the door.\n\n\u2018There you be!\u2019 said Hobden, pointing at him. \u2018My boy, he has her eyes and\nher out-gate senses. That\u2019s what _she_ called \u2019em!\u2019\n\n\u2018And what did you think of it all?\u2019\n\n\u2018Um\u2014um,\u2019 Hobden rumbled. \u2018A man that uses fields an\u2019 shaws after dark as\nmuch as I\u2019ve done, he don\u2019t go out of his road excep\u2019 for keepers.\u2019\n\n\u2018But settin\u2019 that aside?\u2019 said Tom, coaxingly. \u2018I saw ye throw the Good\nPiece out-at doors just now. Do ye believe or\u2014_do_ ye?\u2019\n\n\u2018There was a great black eye to that tater,\u2019 said Hobden, indignantly.\n\n\u2018My liddle eye didn\u2019t see un, then. It looked as if you meant it for\u2014for\nAny One that might need it. But settin\u2019 that aside. D\u2019ye believe or\u2014_do_\nye?\u2019\n\n\u2018I ain\u2019t sayin\u2019 nothin\u2019, because I\u2019ve heard naught, an\u2019 I\u2019ve seen naught.\nBut if you was to say there was more things after dark in the shaws than\nmen, or fur, or feather, or fin, I dunno as I\u2019d go farabout to call you a\nliar. Now turn again, Tom. What\u2019s your say?\u2019\n\n\u2018I\u2019m like you. I say nothin\u2019. But I\u2019ll tell you a tale, an\u2019 you can fit it\n_as_ how you please.\u2019\n\n\u2018Passel o\u2019 no-sense stuff,\u2019 growled Hobden, but he filled his pipe.\n\n\u2018The Marsh men they call it Dymchurch Flit,\u2019 Tom went on slowly. \u2018Hap\nyou\u2019ve heard it?\u2019\n\n\u2018My woman she\u2019ve told it me scores o\u2019 times. Dunno as I didn\u2019t end by\nbelieft in\u2019 it\u2014sometimes.\u2019\n\nHobden crossed over as he spoke, and sucked with his pipe at the yellow\nlanthorn-flame. Tom rested one great elbow on one great knee, where he sat\namong the coal.\n\n\u2018Have you ever bin in the Marsh?\u2019 he said to Dan.\n\n\u2018Only as far as Rye, once,\u2019 Dan answered.\n\n\u2018Ah, that\u2019s but the edge. Back behind of her there\u2019s steeples settin\u2019\nbeside churches, an\u2019 wise women settin\u2019 beside their doors, an\u2019 the sea\nsettin\u2019 above the land, an\u2019 ducks herdin\u2019 wild in the diks\u2019 (he meant\nditches). \u2018The Marsh is justabout riddled with diks an\u2019 sluices, an\u2019\ntide-gates an\u2019 water-lets. You can hear em\u2019 bubblin\u2019 an\u2019 grummelin\u2019 when\nthe tide works in em\u2019, an\u2019 then you hear the sea rangin\u2019 left and\nright-handed all up along the Wall. You\u2019ve seen how flat she is\u2014the Marsh?\nYou\u2019d think nothin\u2019 easier than to walk eend-on acrost her? Ah, but the\ndiks an\u2019 the water-lets, they twists the roads about as ravelly as\nwitch-yarn on the spindles. So ye get all turned round in broad daylight.\u2019\n\n\u2018That\u2019s because they\u2019ve dreened the waters into the diks,\u2019 said Hobden.\n\u2018When I courted my woman the rushes was green\u2014Eh me! the rushes was\ngreen\u2014an\u2019 the Bailiff o\u2019 the Marshes, he rode up and down as free as the\nfog.\u2019\n\n\u2018Who was he?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Why, the Marsh fever an\u2019 ague. He\u2019ve clapped me on the shoulder once or\ntwice till I shook proper. But now the dreenin\u2019 off of the waters have\ndone away with the fevers; so they make a joke, like, that the Bailiff o\u2019\nthe Marshes broke his neck in a dik. A won\u2019erful place for bees an\u2019 ducks\n\u2019tis too.\u2019\n\n\u2018An\u2019 old!\u2019 Tom went on. \u2018Flesh an\u2019 Blood have been there since Time\nEverlastin\u2019 Beyond. Well, now, speakin\u2019 among themselves, the Marshmen say\nthat from Time Everlastin\u2019 Beyond the Pharisees favoured the Marsh above\nthe rest of Old England. I lay the Marshmen ought to know. They\u2019ve been\nout after dark, father an\u2019 son, smugglin\u2019 some one thing or t\u2019other, since\never wool grew to sheep\u2019s backs. They say there was always a middlin\u2019 few\nPharisees to be seen on the Marsh. Impident as rabbits, they was. They\u2019d\ndance on the nakid roads in the nakid daytime; they\u2019d flash their liddle\ngreen lights along the diks, comin\u2019 an\u2019 goin\u2019, like honest smugglers. Yes,\nan\u2019 times they\u2019d lock the church doors against parson an\u2019 clerk of\nSundays!\u2019\n\n\u2018That \u2019ud be smugglers layin\u2019 in the lace or the brandy till they could\nrun it out o\u2019 the Marsh. I\u2019ve told my woman so,\u2019 said Hobden.\n\n\u2018I\u2019ll lay she didn\u2019t beleft it, then\u2014not if she was a Whitgift. A\nwon\u2019erful choice place for Pharisees, the Marsh, by all accounts, till\nQueen Bess\u2019s father he come in with his Reformatories.\u2019\n\n\u2018Would that be a Act o\u2019 Parliament like?\u2019 Hobden asked.\n\n\u2018Sure-ly! \u2019Can\u2019t do nothing in Old England without Act, Warrant, an\u2019\nSummons. He got his Act allowed him, an\u2019, they say, Queen Bess\u2019s father he\nused the parish churches something shameful. Justabout tore the gizzards\nout of I dunnamany. Some folk in England they held with \u2019en; but some they\nsaw it different, an\u2019 it eended in \u2019em takin\u2019 sides an\u2019 burnin\u2019 each other\nno bounds, accordin\u2019 which side was top, time bein\u2019. That tarrified the\nPharisees: for Goodwill among Flesh an\u2019 Blood is meat an\u2019 drink to \u2019em,\nan\u2019 ill-will is poison.\u2019\n\n\u2018Same as bees,\u2019 said the Bee Boy. \u2018Bees won\u2019t stay by a house where\nthere\u2019s hating.\u2019\n\n\u2018True,\u2019 said Tom. \u2018This Reformations tarrified the Pharisees same as the\nreaper goin\u2019 round a last stand o\u2019 wheat tarrifies rabbits. They packed\ninto the Marsh from all parts, and they says, \u201cFair or foul, we must flit\nout o\u2019 this, for Merry England\u2019s done with, an\u2019 we\u2019re reckoned among the\nImages.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018Did they _all_ see it that way?\u2019 said Hobden.\n\n\u2018All but one that was called Robin\u2014if you\u2019ve heard of him. What are you\nlaughing at?\u2019 Tom turned to Dan. \u2018The Pharisees\u2019s trouble didn\u2019t tech\nRobin, because he\u2019d cleaved middlin\u2019 close to people like. No more he\nnever meant to go out of Old England\u2014not he; so he was sent messagin\u2019 for\nhelp among Flesh an\u2019 Blood. But Flesh an\u2019 Blood must always think of their\nown concerns, an\u2019 Robin couldn\u2019t get _through_ at \u2019em, ye see. They\nthought it was tide-echoes off the Marsh.\u2019\n\n\u2018What did you\u2014what did the fai\u2014Pharisees want?\u2019 Una asked.\n\n\u2018A boat to be sure. Their liddle wings could no more cross Channel than so\nmany tired butterflies. A boat an\u2019 a crew they desired to sail \u2019em over to\nFrance, where yet awhile folks hadn\u2019t tore down the Images. They couldn\u2019t\nabide cruel Canterbury Bells ringin\u2019 to Bulverhithe for more pore men an\u2019\nwomen to be burnded, nor the King\u2019s proud messenger ridin\u2019 through the\nland givin\u2019 orders to tear down the Images. They couldn\u2019t abide it no\nshape. Nor yet they couldn\u2019t get their boat an\u2019 crew to flit by without\nLeave an\u2019 Good-will from Flesh an\u2019 Blood; an\u2019 Flesh an\u2019 Blood came an\u2019\nwent about its own business the while the Marsh was swarvin\u2019 up, an\u2019\nswarvin\u2019 up with Pharisees from all England over, striving all means to\nget _through_ at Flesh an\u2019 Blood to tell \u2019en their sore need.... I don\u2019t\nknow as you\u2019ve ever heard say Pharisees are like chickens?\u2019\n\n\u2018My woman used to say that too,\u2019 said Hobden, folding his brown arms.\n\n\u2018They be. You run too many chickens together, an\u2019 the ground sickens like,\nan\u2019 you get a squat, an\u2019 your chickens die. \u2019Same way, you crowd Pharisees\nall in one place\u2014_they_ don\u2019t die, but Flesh an\u2019 Blood walkin\u2019 among \u2019em\nis apt to sick up an\u2019 pine off. _They_ don\u2019t mean it, an\u2019 Flesh an\u2019 Blood\ndon\u2019t know it, but that\u2019s the truth\u2014as I\u2019ve heard. The Pharisees through\nbein\u2019 all stenched up an\u2019 frighted, an\u2019 tryin\u2019 to come _through_ with\ntheir supplications, they nature-ally changed the thin airs and humours in\nFlesh an\u2019 Blood. It lay on the Marsh like thunder. Men saw their churches\nablaze with the wildfire in the windows after dark; they saw their cattle\nscatterin\u2019 and no man scarin\u2019; their sheep flockin\u2019 and no man drivin\u2019;\ntheir horses latherin\u2019 an\u2019 no man leadin\u2019; they saw the liddle low green\nlights more than ever in the dik-sides; they heard the liddle feet\npatterin\u2019 more than ever round the houses; an\u2019 night an\u2019 day, day an\u2019\nnight, \u2019twas all as though they were bein\u2019 creeped up on, and hinted at by\nsome One or Other that couldn\u2019t rightly shape their trouble. Oh, I lay\nthey sweated! Man an\u2019 maid, woman an\u2019 child, their Nature done \u2019em no\nservice all the weeks while the Marsh was swarvin\u2019 up with Pharisees. But\nthey was Flesh an\u2019 Blood, an\u2019 Marsh men before all. They reckoned the\nsigns sinnified trouble for the Marsh. Or that the sea \u2019ud rear up against\nDymchurch Wall an\u2019 they\u2019d be drownded like Old Winchelsea; or that the\nPlague was comin\u2019. So they looked for the meanin\u2019 in the sea or in the\nclouds\u2014far an\u2019 high up. They never thought to look near an\u2019 knee-high,\nwhere they could see naught.\n\n\u2018Now there was a poor widow at Dymchurch under the Wall, which, lacking\nman or property, she had the more time for feeling; and she come to feel\nthere was a Trouble outside her doorstep bigger an\u2019 heavier than aught\nshe\u2019d ever carried over it. She had two sons\u2014one born blind, and t\u2019other\nstruck dumb through fallin\u2019 off the Wall when he was liddle. They was men\ngrown, but not wage-earnin\u2019, an\u2019 she worked for \u2019em, keepin\u2019 bees and\nanswerin\u2019 Questions.\u2019\n\n\u2018What sort of questions?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018Like where lost things might be found, an\u2019 what to put about a crooked\nbaby\u2019s neck, an\u2019 how to join parted sweethearts. She felt the Trouble on\nthe Marsh same as eels feel thunder. She was a wise woman.\u2019\n\n\u2018My woman was won\u2019erful weather-tender, too,\u2019 said Hobden. \u2018I\u2019ve seen her\nbrish sparks like off an anvil out of her hair in thunderstorms. But she\nnever laid out to answer Questions.\u2019\n\n\u2018This woman was a Seeker like, an\u2019 Seekers they sometimes find. One night,\nwhile she lay abed, hot an\u2019 aching, there come a Dream an\u2019 tapped at her\nwindow, and \u201cWidow Whitgift,\u201d it said, \u201cWidow Whitgift!\u201d\n\n\u2018First, by the wings an\u2019 the whistling, she thought it was peewits, but\nlast she arose an\u2019 dressed herself, an\u2019 opened her door to the Marsh, an\u2019\nshe felt the Trouble an\u2019 the Groaning all about her, strong as fever an\u2019\nague, an\u2019 she calls: \u201cWhat is it? Oh, what is it?\u201d\n\n\u2018Then \u2019twas all like the frogs in the diks peeping: then \u2019twas all like\nthe reeds in the diks clipclapping; an\u2019 then the great Tide-wave rummelled\nalong the Wall, an\u2019 she couldn\u2019t hear proper.\n\n\u2018Three times she called, an\u2019 three times the Tide-wave did her down. But\nshe catched the quiet between, an\u2019 she cries out, \u201cWhat is the Trouble on\nthe Marsh that\u2019s been lying down with my heart an\u2019 arising with my body\nthis month gone?\u201d She felt a liddle hand lay hold on her gown-hem, an\u2019 she\nstooped to the pull o\u2019 that liddle hand.\u2019\n\nTom Shoesmith spread his huge fist before the fire and smiled at it.\n\n\u2018\u201cWill the sea drown the Marsh?\u201d she says. She was a Marsh-woman first an\u2019\nforemost.\n\n\u2018\u201cNo,\u201d says the liddle voice. \u201cSleep sound for all o\u2019 that.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cIs the Plague comin\u2019 to the Marsh?\u201d she says. Them was all the ills she\nknowed.\n\n\u2018\u201cNo. Sleep sound for all o\u2019 that,\u201d says Robin.\n\n\u2018She turned about, half mindful to go in, but the liddle voices grieved\nthat shrill an\u2019 sorrowful she turns back, an\u2019 she cries: \u201cIf it is not a\nTrouble of Flesh an\u2019 Blood, what can I do?\u201d\n\n\u2018The Pharisees cried out upon her from all round to fetch them a boat to\nsail to France, an\u2019 come back no more.\n\n\u2018\u201cThere\u2019s a boat on the Wall,\u201d she says, \u201cbut I can\u2019t push it down to the\nsea, nor sail it when \u2019tis there.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cLend us your sons,\u201d says all the Pharisees. \u201cGive \u2019em Leave an\u2019\nGood-will to sail it for us, Mother\u2014O Mother!\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cOne\u2019s dumb, an\u2019 t\u2019other\u2019s blind,\u201d she says. \u201cBut all the dearer me for\nthat; and you\u2019ll lose them in the big sea.\u201d The voices justabout pierced\nthrough her. An\u2019 there was children\u2019s voices too. She stood out all she\ncould, but she couldn\u2019t rightly stand against _that_. So she says: \u201cIf you\ncan draw my sons for your job, I\u2019ll not hinder \u2019em. You can\u2019t ask no more\nof a Mother.\u201d\n\n\u2018She saw them liddle green lights dance an\u2019 cross till she was dizzy; she\nheard them liddle feet patterin\u2019 by the thousand; she heard cruel\nCanterbury Bells ringing to Bulverhithe, an\u2019 she heard the great Tide-wave\nranging along the Wall. That was while the Pharisees was workin\u2019 a Dream\nto wake her two sons asleep: an\u2019 while she bit on her fingers she saw them\ntwo she\u2019d bore come out an\u2019 pass her with never a word. She followed \u2019em,\ncryin\u2019 pitiful, to the old boat on the Wall, an\u2019 that they took an\u2019 runned\ndown to the Sea.\n\n\u2018When they\u2019d stepped mast an\u2019 sail the blind son speaks up: \u201cMother, we\u2019re\nwaitin\u2019 your Leave an\u2019 Good-will to take Them over.\u201d\u2019\n\nTom Shoesmith threw back his head and half shut his eyes.\n\n\u2018Eh, me!\u2019 he said. \u2018She was a fine, valiant woman, the Widow Whitgift. She\nstood twistin\u2019 the ends of her long hair over her fingers, an\u2019 she shook\nlike a poplar, makin\u2019 up her mind. The Pharisees all about they hushed\ntheir children from cryin\u2019 an\u2019 they waited dumb-still. She was all their\ndependence. \u2019Thout her Leave an\u2019 Goodwill they could not pass; for she was\nthe Mother. So she shook like a asp-tree makin\u2019 up her mind. \u2019Last she\ndrives the word past her teeth, an\u2019 \u201cGo!\u201d she says. \u201cGo with my Leave an\u2019\nGoodwill.\u201d\n\n\u2018Then I saw\u2014then, they say, she had to brace back same as if she was\nwadin\u2019 in tide-water; for the Pharisees justabout flowed past her\u2014down the\nbeach to the boat, _I_ dunnamany of \u2019em\u2014with their wives an\u2019 children an\u2019\nvalooables, all escapin\u2019 out of cruel Old England. Silver you could hear\nclinkin\u2019, an\u2019 liddle bundles hove down dunt on the bottom-boards, an\u2019\npassels o\u2019 liddle swords an\u2019 shield\u2019s raklin\u2019, an\u2019 liddle fingers an\u2019 toes\nscratchin\u2019 on the boatside to board her when the two sons pushed her off.\nThat boat she sunk lower an\u2019 lower, but all the Widow could see in it was\nher boys movin\u2019 hampered-like to get at the tackle. Up sail they did, an\u2019\naway they went, deep as a Rye barge, away into the off-shore mistes, an\u2019\nthe Widow Whitgift she sat down and eased her grief till mornin\u2019 light.\u2019\n\n\u2018I never heard she was _all_ alone,\u2019 said Hobden.\n\n\u2018I remember now. The one called Robin he stayed with her, they tell. She\nwas all too grievious to listen to his promises.\u2019\n\n\u2018Ah! She should ha\u2019 made her bargain beforehand. I allus told my woman\nso!\u2019 Hobden cried.\n\n\u2018No. She loaned her sons for a pure love-loan, bein\u2019 as she sensed the\nTrouble on the Marshes, an\u2019 was simple good-willing to ease it.\u2019 Tom\nlaughed softly. \u2018She done that. Yes, she done that! From Hithe to\nBulverthithe, fretty man an\u2019 petty maid, ailin\u2019 woman an\u2019 wailin\u2019 child,\nthey took the advantage of the change in the thin airs just about _as_\nsoon as the Pharisees flitted. Folks come out fresh an\u2019 shining all over\nthe Marsh like snails after wet. An\u2019 that while the Widow Whitgift sat\ngrievin\u2019 on the Wall. She might have beleft us\u2014she might have trusted her\nsons would be sent back! She fussed, no bounds, when their boat come in\nafter three days.\u2019\n\n\u2018And, of course, the sons were both quite cured?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018No-o. That would have been out o\u2019 Nature. She got \u2019em back _as_ she sent\n\u2019em. The blind man he hadn\u2019t seen naught of anything, an\u2019 the dumb man\nnature-ally, he couldn\u2019t say aught of what he\u2019d seen. I reckon that was\nwhy the Pharisees pitched on \u2019em for the ferrying job.\u2019\n\n\u2018But what did you\u2014what did Robin promise the Widow?\u2019 said Dan.\n\n\u2018What _did_ he promise, now?\u2019 Tom pretended to think. \u2018Wasn\u2019t your woman a\nWhitgift, Ralph? Didn\u2019t she say?\u2019\n\n\u2018She told me a passel o\u2019 no-sense stuff when he was born.\u2019 Hobden pointed\nat his son. \u2018There was always to be one of \u2019em that could see further into\na millstone than most.\u2019\n\n\u2018Me! That\u2019s me!\u2019 said the Bee Boy so suddenly that they all laughed.\n\n\u2018I\u2019ve got it now!\u2019 cried Tom, slapping his knee. \u2018So long as Whitgift\nblood lasted, Robin promised there would allers be one o\u2019 her stock\nthat\u2014that no Trouble \u2019ud lie on, no Maid \u2019ud sigh on, no Night could\nfrighten, no Fright could harm, no Harm could make sin, an\u2019 no Woman could\nmake a fool.\u2019\n\n\u2018Well, ain\u2019t that just me?\u2019 said the Bee Boy, where he sat in the silver\nsquare of the great September moon that was staring into the oast-house\ndoor.\n\n\u2018They was the exact words she told me when we first found he wasn\u2019t like\nothers. But it beats me how you known \u2019em,\u2019 said Hobden.\n\n\u2018Aha! There\u2019s more under my hat besides hair!\u2019 Tom laughed and stretched\nhimself. \u2018When I\u2019ve seen these two young folk home, we\u2019ll make a night of\nold days, Ralph, with passin\u2019 old tales\u2014eh? An\u2019 where might you live?\u2019 he\nsaid, gravely, to Dan. \u2018An\u2019 do you think your Pa \u2019ud give me a drink for\ntakin\u2019 you there, Missy?\u2019\n\nThey giggled so at this that they had to run out. Tom picked them both up,\nset one on each broad shoulder, and tramped across the ferny pasture where\nthe cows puffed milky puffs at them in the moonlight.\n\n\u2018Oh, Puck! Puck! I guessed you right from when you talked about the salt.\nHow could you ever do it?\u2019 Una cried, swinging along delighted.\n\n\u2018Do what?\u2019 he said, and climbed the stile by the pollard oak.\n\n\u2018Pretend to be Tom Shoesmith,\u2019 said Dan, and they ducked to avoid the two\nlittle ashes that grow by the bridge over the brook. Tom was almost\nrunning.\n\n\u2018Yes. That\u2019s my name, Mus\u2019 Dan,\u2019 he said, hurrying over the silent shining\nlawn, where a rabbit sat by the big white-thorn near the croquet ground.\n\u2018Here you be.\u2019 He strode into the old kitchen yard, and slid them down as\nEllen came to ask questions.\n\n\u2018I\u2019m helping in Mus\u2019 Spray\u2019s oast-house,\u2019 he said to her. \u2018No, I\u2019m no\nforeigner. I knowed this country \u2019fore your Mother was born; an\u2019\u2014yes it\u2019s\ndry work oasting, Miss. Thank you.\u2019\n\nEllen went to get a jug, and the children went in\u2014magicked once more by\nOak, Ash, and Thorn!\n\n\n\n\nA THREE-PART SONG\n\n\n  _I\u2019m just in love with all these three,_\n  _The Weald and the Marsh and the Down countrie;_\n  _Nor I don\u2019t know which I love the most,_\n  _The Weald or the Marsh or the white chalk coast!_\n\n  _I\u2019ve buried my heart in a ferny hill,_\n  _Twix\u2019 a liddle low Shaw an\u2019 a great high Gill._\n  _Oh hop-vine yaller and woodsmoke blue,_\n  _I reckon you\u2019ll keep her middling true!_\n\n  _I\u2019ve loosed my mind for to out and run,_\n  _On a Marsh that was old when Kings begun;_\n  _Oh Romney Level and Brenzett reeds,_\n  _I reckon you know what my mind needs!_\n\n  _I\u2019ve given my soul to the Southdown grass,_\n  _And sheep-bells tinkled where you pass._\n  _Oh Firle an\u2019 Ditchling an\u2019 sails at sea,_\n  _I reckon you\u2019ll keep my soul or me!_\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE TREASURE AND THE LAW\n\n\n\n\nSONG OF THE FIFTH RIVER\n\n\n  _When first by Eden Tree,_\n  _The Four Great Rivers ran,_\n  _To each was appointed a Man_\n  _Her Prince and Ruler to be._\n\n  _But after this was ordained,_\n  _(The ancient legends tell),_\n  _There came dark Israel,_\n  _For whom no River remained._\n\n  _Then He That is Wholly Just,_\n  _Said to him: \u2018Fling on the ground_\n  _A handful of yellow dust,_\n  _And a Fifth Great River shall run,_\n  _Mightier than these Four,_\n  _In secret the Earth around;_\n  _And Her secret evermore,_\n  _Shall be shown to thee and thy Race.\u2019_\n\n  _So it was said and done._\n  _And, deep in the veins of Earth,_\n  _And, fed by a thousand springs_\n  _That comfort the market-place,_\n  _Or sap the power of Kings,_\n  _The Fifth Great River had birth,_\n  _Even as it was foretold\u2014_\n  _The Secret River of Gold!_\n\n  _And Israel laid down_\n  _His sceptre and his crown,_\n  _To brood on that River bank,_\n  _Where the waters flashed and sank,_\n  _And burrowed in earth and fell,_\n  _And bided a season below;_\n  _For reason that none might know,_\n  _Save only Israel._\n\n  _He is Lord of the Last\u2014_\n  _The Fifth, most wonderful, Flood._\n  _He hears her thunder past_\n  _And Her Song is in his blood._\n  _He can foresay: \u2018She will fall,\u2019_\n  _For he knows which fountain dries,_\n  _Behind which desert belt_\n  _A thousand leagues to the South._\n  _He can foresay: \u2018She will rise.\u2019_\n  _He knows what far snows melt;_\n  _Along what mountain wall_\n  _A thousand leagues to the North._\n  _He snuffs the coming drouth_\n  _As he snuffs the coming rain,_\n  _He knows what each will bring forth_\n  _And turns it to his gain._\n\n  _A Prince without a Sword,_\n  _A Ruler without a Throne;_\n  _Israel follows his quest:\u2014_\n  _In every land a guest._\n  _Of many lands the lord._\n  _In no land King is he._\n  _But the Fifth Great River keeps_\n  _The secret of her deeps_\n  _For Israel alone,_\n  _As it was ordered to be._\n\n\n\n\nTHE TREASURE AND THE LAW\n\n\nNow it was the third week in November, and the woods rang with the noise\nof pheasant-shooting. No one hunted that steep, cramped country except the\nvillage beagles, who, as often as not, escaped from their kennels and made\na day of their own. Dan and Una found a couple of them towling round the\nkitchen-garden after the laundry cat. The little brutes were only too\npleased to go rabbiting, so the children ran them all along the brook\npastures and into Little Lindens farm-yard, where the old sow vanquished\nthem\u2014and up to the quarry-hole, where they started a fox. He headed for\nFar Wood, and there they frightened out all the pheasants who were\nsheltering from a big beat across the valley. Then the cruel guns began\nagain, and they grabbed the beagles lest they should stray and get hurt.\n\n\u2018I wouldn\u2019t be a pheasant\u2014in November\u2014for a lot,\u2019 Dan panted, as he caught\n_Folly_ by the neck. \u2018Why did you laugh that horrid way?\u2019\n\n\u2018I didn\u2019t,\u2019 said Una, sitting on _Flora_, the fat lady-dog. \u2018Oh, look! The\nsilly birds are going back to their own woods instead of ours, where they\nwould be safe.\u2019\n\n\u2018Safe till it pleased you to kill them.\u2019 An old man, so tall he was almost\na giant, stepped from behind the clump of hollies by \u2018Volaterrae.\u2019 The\nchildren jumped, and the dogs dropped like setters. He wore a sweeping\ngown of dark thick stuff, lined and edged with yellowish fur, and he bowed\na bent-down bow that made them feel both proud and ashamed. Then he looked\nat them steadily, and they stared back without doubt or fear.\n\n\u2018You are not afraid?\u2019 he said, running his hands through his splendid grey\nbeard. \u2018Not afraid that those men yonder\u2019\u2014he jerked his head towards the\nincessant pop-pop of the guns from the lower woods\u2014\u2018will do you hurt?\u2019\n\n\u2018We-ell\u2019\u2014Dan liked to be accurate, especially when he was shy\u2014\u2018old Hobd\u2014a\nfriend of mine told me that one of the beaters got peppered last week\u2014hit\nin the leg, I mean. You see, Mr. Meyer _will_ fire at rabbits. But he gave\nWaxy Garnett a quid\u2014sovereign, I mean\u2014and Waxy told Hobden he\u2019d have stood\nboth barrels for half the money.\u2019\n\n\u2018He doesn\u2019t understand,\u2019 Una cried, watching the pale, troubled face. \u2018Oh,\nI wish\u2014\u2014\u2019\n\nShe had scarcely said it when Puck rustled out of the hollies and spoke to\nthe man quickly in foreign words. Puck wore a long cloak too\u2014the afternoon\nwas just frosting down\u2014and it changed his appearance altogether.\n\n\u2018Nay, nay!\u2019 he said at last. \u2018You did not understand the boy. A freeman\nwas a little hurt, by pure mischance, at the hunting.\u2019\n\n\u2018I know that mischance! What did his Lord do? Laugh and ride over him?\u2019\nthe old man sneered.\n\n\u2018It was one of your own people did the hurt, Kadmiel.\u2019 Puck\u2019s eyes\ntwinkled maliciously. \u2018So he gave the freeman a piece of gold, and no more\nwas said.\u2019\n\n\u2018A Jew drew blood from a Christian and no more was said?\u2019 Kadmiel cried.\n\u2018Never! When did they torture him?\u2019\n\n\u2018No man may be bound, or fined, or slain till he has been judged by his\npeers,\u2019 Puck insisted. \u2018There is but one Law in Old England for Jew or\nChristian\u2014the Law that was signed at Runnymede.\u2019\n\n\u2018Why, that\u2019s Magna Charta!\u2019 Dan whispered. It was one of the few history\ndates that he could remember. Kadmiel turned on him with a sweep and a\nwhirr of his spicy-scented gown.\n\n\u2018Dost _thou_ know of that, babe?\u2019 he cried, and lifted his hands in\nwonder.\n\n\u2018Yes,\u2019 said Dan, firmly.\n\n  \u2018Magna Charta was signed by John,\n  That Henry the Third put his heel upon.\n\nAnd old Hobden says that if it hadn\u2019t been for her (he calls everything\n\u201cher,\u201d you know), the keepers would have him clapped in Lewes Gaol all the\nyear round.\u2019\n\nAgain Puck translated to Kadmiel in the strange, solemn-sounding language,\nand at last Kadmiel laughed.\n\n\u2018Out of the mouths of babes do we learn,\u2019 said he. \u2018But tell me now, and I\nwill not call you a babe but a Rabbi, _why_ did the King sign the roll of\nthe New Law at Runnymede? For he was a King.\u2019\n\nDan looked sideways at his sister. It was her turn.\n\n\u2018Because he jolly well had to,\u2019 said Una, softly. \u2018The Barons made him.\u2019\n\n\u2018Nay,\u2019 Kadmiel answered, shaking his head. \u2018You Christians always forget\nthat gold does more than the sword. Our good King signed because he could\nnot borrow more money from us bad Jews.\u2019 He curved his shoulders as he\nspoke. \u2018A King without gold is a snake with a broken back, and\u2019\u2014his nose\nsneered up and his eyebrows frowned down\u2014\u2018it is a good deed to break a\nsnake\u2019s back. That was _my_ work,\u2019 he cried, triumphantly, to Puck.\n\u2018Spirit of Earth, bear witness that that was my work!\u2019 He shot up to his\nfull towering height, and his words rang like a trumpet. He had a voice\nthat changed its tone almost as an opal changes colour\u2014sometimes deep and\nthundery, sometimes thin and waily, but always it made you listen.\n\n\u2018Many people can bear witness to that,\u2019 Puck answered. \u2018Tell these babes\nhow it was done. Remember, Master, they do not know Doubt or Fear.\u2019\n\n\u2018So I saw in their faces when we met,\u2019 said Kadmiel. \u2018Yet surely, surely\nthey are taught to spit upon Jews?\u2019\n\n\u2018Are they?\u2019 said Dan, much interested. \u2018Where at?\u2019\n\nPuck fell back a pace, laughing. \u2018Kadmiel is thinking of King John\u2019s\nreign,\u2019 he explained. \u2018His people were badly treated then.\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh, we know _that_,\u2019 they answered, and (it was very rude of them, but\nthey could not help it) they stared straight at Kadmiel\u2019s mouth to see if\nhis teeth were all there. It stuck in their lesson-memory that King John\nused to pull out Jews\u2019 teeth to make them lend him money.\n\nKadmiel understood the look and smiled bitterly.\n\n\u2018No. Your King never drew my teeth: I think, perhaps, I drew his. Listen!\nI was not born among Christians, but among Moors\u2014in Spain\u2014in a little\nwhite town under the mountains. Yes, the Moors are cruel, but at least\ntheir learned men dare to think. It was prophesied of me at my birth that\nI should be a Lawgiver to a People of a strange speech and a hard\nlanguage. We Jews are always looking for the Prince and the Lawgiver to\ncome. Why not? My people in the town (we were very few) set me apart as a\nchild of the prophecy\u2014the Chosen of the Chosen. We Jews dream so many\ndreams. You would never guess it to see us slink about the rubbish-heaps\nin our quarter; but at the day\u2019s end\u2014doors shut, candles lit\u2014aha! _then_\nwe become the Chosen again.\u2019\n\nHe paced back and forth through the wood as he talked. The rattle of the\nshot-guns never ceased, and the dogs whimpered a little and lay flat on\nthe leaves.\n\n\u2018I was a Prince. Yes! Think of a little Prince who had never known rough\nwords in his own house handed over to shouting, bearded Rabbis, who pulled\nhis ears and filliped his nose, all that he might learn\u2014learn\u2014learn to be\nKing when his time came. H\u00e9! Such a little Prince it was! One eye he kept\non the stone-throwing Moorish boys, and the other it roved about the\nstreets looking for his Kingdom. Yes, and he learned to cry softly when he\nwas hunted up and down those streets. He learned to do all things without\nnoise. He played beneath his father\u2019s table when the Great Candle was lit,\nand he listened as children listen to the talk of his father\u2019s friends\nabove the table. They came across the mountains, from out of all the\nworld; for my Prince\u2019s father was their councillor. They came from behind\nthe armies of Sala-ud-Din: from Rome: from Venice: from England. They\nstole down our alley, they tapped secretly at our door, they took off\ntheir rags, they arrayed themselves, and they talked to my father at the\nwine. All over the world the heathen fought each other. They brought news\nof these wars, and while he played beneath the table, my Prince heard\nthese meanly-dressed ones decide between themselves how, and when, and for\nhow long King should draw sword against King, and People rise up against\nPeople. Why not? There can be no war without gold, and we Jews know how\nthe earth\u2019s gold moves with the seasons, and the crops, and the winds;\ncircling and looping and rising and sinking away like a river\u2014a wonderful\nunderground river. How should the foolish Kings know _that_ while they\nfight and steal and kill?\u2019\n\nThe children\u2019s faces showed that they knew nothing at all as, with open\neyes, they trotted and turned beside the long-striding old man. He\ntwitched his gown over his shoulders, and a square plate of gold, studded\nwith jewels, gleamed for an instant through the fur, like a star through\nflying snow.\n\n\u2018No matter,\u2019 he said. \u2018But, credit me, my Prince saw peace or war decided\nnot once, but many times, by the fall of a coin spun between a Jew from\nBury and a Jewess from Alexandria, in his father\u2019s house, when the Great\nCandle was lit. Such power had we Jews among the Gentiles. Ah, my little\nPrince! Do you wonder that he learned quickly? Why not?\u2019 He muttered to\nhimself and went on:\u2014\n\n\u2018My trade was that of a physician. When I had learned it in Spain I went\nto the East to find my Kingdom. Why not? A Jew is as free as a sparrow\u2014or\na dog. He goes where he is hunted. In the East I found libraries where men\ndared to think\u2014schools of medicine where they dared to learn. I was\ndiligent in my business. Therefore I stood before Kings. I have been a\nbrother to Princes and a companion to beggars, and I have walked between\nthe living and the dead. There was no profit in it. I did not find my\nKingdom. So, in the tenth year of my travels, when I had reached the\nUttermost Eastern Sea, I returned to my father\u2019s house. God had\nwonderfully preserved my people. None had been slain, none even wounded,\nand only a few scourged. I became once more a son in my father\u2019s house.\nAgain the Great Candle was lit; again the meanly-apparelled ones tapped on\nour door after dusk; and again I heard them weigh out peace and war, as\nthey weighed out the gold on the table. But I was not rich\u2014not very rich.\nTherefore, when those that had power and knowledge and wealth talked\ntogether, I sat in the shadow. Why not?\n\n\u2018Yet all my wanderings had shown me one sure thing, which is, that a King\nwithout money is like a spear without a head. He cannot do much harm. I\nsaid, therefore, to Elias of Bury, a great one among our people: \u201cWhy do\nour people lend any more to the Kings that oppress us?\u201d \u201cBecause,\u201d said\nElias, \u201cif we refuse they stir up their people against us, and the People\nare tenfold more cruel than Kings. If thou doubtest, come with me to Bury\nin England and live as I live.\u201d\n\n\u2018I saw my mother\u2019s face across the candle-flame, and I said, \u201cI will come\nwith thee to Bury. Maybe my Kingdom shall be there.\u201d\n\n\u2018So I sailed with Elias to the darkness and the cruelty of Bury in\nEngland, where there are no learned men. How can a man be wise if he hate?\nAt Bury I kept his accounts for Elias, and I saw men kill Jews there by\nthe tower. No\u2014none laid hands on Elias. He lent money to the King, and the\nKing\u2019s favour was about him. A King will not take the life so long as\nthere is any gold. This King\u2014yes, John\u2014oppressed his people bitterly\nbecause they would not give him money. Yet his land was a good land. If he\nhad only given it rest he might have cropped it as a Christian crops his\nbeard. But even _that_ little he did not know; for God had deprived him of\nall understanding, and had multiplied pestilence, and famine, and despair\nupon the people. Therefore his people turned against us Jews, who are all\npeople\u2019s dogs. Why not? Lastly the Barons and the people rose together\nagainst the King because of his cruelties. Nay\u2014nay\u2014the Barons did not love\nthe people, but they saw that if the King eat up and destroyed the common\npeople, he would presently destroy the Barons. They joined then, as cats\nand pigs will join to slay a snake. I kept the accounts, and I watched all\nthese things, for I remembered the Prophecy.\n\n\u2018A great gathering of Barons (to most of whom we had lent money) came to\nBury, and there, after much talk and a thousand runnings-about, they made\na roll of the New Laws that they would force on the King. If he swore to\nkeep those Laws, they would allow him a little money. That was the King\u2019s\nGod\u2014Money\u2014to waste. They showed us the roll of the New Laws. Why not? We\nhad lent them money. We knew all their counsels\u2014we Jews shivering behind\nour doors in Bury.\u2019 He threw out his hands suddenly. \u2018We did not seek to\nbe paid _all_ in money. We sought Power\u2014Power\u2014Power! That is _our_ God in\nour captivity. Power to use!\n\n\u2018I said to Elias: \u201cThese New Laws are good. Lend no more money to the\nKing: so long as he has money he will lie and slay the people.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cNay,\u201d said Elias. \u201cI know this people. They are madly cruel. Better one\nKing than a thousand butchers. I have lent a little money to the Barons,\nor they would torture us, but my most I will lend to the King. He hath\npromised me a place near him at Court, where my wife and I shall be safe.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cBut if the King be made to keep these New Laws,\u201d I said, \u201cthe land will\nhave peace, and our trade will grow. If we lend he will fight again.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cWho made thee a Lawgiver in England?\u201d said Elias. \u201cI know this people.\nLet the dogs tear one another! I will lend the King ten thousand pieces of\ngold, and he can fight the Barons at his pleasure.\u201d\n\n\u2018\u201cThere are not two thousand pieces of gold in all England this summer,\u201d I\nsaid, for I kept the accounts, and I knew how the earth\u2019s gold moved\u2014that\nwonderful underground river! Elias barred home the windows, and, his hands\nabout his mouth, he told me how, when he was trading with small wares in a\nFrench ship, he had come to the Castle of Pevensey.\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh!\u2019 said Dan. \u2018Pevensey again!\u2019 and looked at Una, who nodded and\nskipped.\n\n\u2018There, after they had scattered his pack up and down the Great Hall, some\nyoung knights carried him to an upper room, and dropped him into a well in\na wall, that rose and fell with the tide. They called him Joseph, and\nthrew torches at his wet head. Why not?\u2019\n\n\u2018Why, of course,\u2019 cried Dan. \u2018Didn\u2019t you know it was\u2014\u2014\u2019 Puck held up his\nhand to stop him, and Kadmiel, who never noticed, went on.\n\n\u2018When the tide dropped he thought he stood on old armour, but feeling with\nhis toes, he raked up bar on bar of soft gold. Some wicked treasure of the\nold days put away, and the secret cut off by the sword. I have heard the\nlike before.\u2019\n\n\u2018So have we,\u2019 Una whispered. \u2018But it wasn\u2019t wicked a bit.\u2019\n\n\u2018Elias took a morsel of the stuff with him, and thrice yearly he would\nreturn to Pevensey as a chapman, selling at no price or profit, till they\nsuffered him to sleep in the empty room, where he would plumb and grope,\nand steal away a few bars. The great store of it still remained, and by\nlong brooding he had come to look on it as his own. Yet when we thought\nhow we should lift and convey it, we saw no way. This was before the Word\nof the Lord had come to me. A walled fortress possessed by Normans; in the\nmidst a forty-foot tide-well out of which to remove secretly many\nhorse-loads of gold! Hopeless! So Elias wept. Adah, his wife, wept too.\nShe had hoped to stand beside the Queen\u2019s Christian tiring-maids at Court,\nwhen the King should give them that place at Court which he had promised.\nWhy not? She was born in England\u2014an odious woman.\n\n\u2018The present evil to us was that Elias, out of his strong folly, had, as\nit were, promised the King that he would arm him with more gold. Wherefore\nthe King in his camp stopped his ears against the Barons and the people.\nWherefore men died daily. Adah so desired her place at Court, she besought\nElias to tell the King where the treasure lay, that the King might take it\nby force, and\u2014they would trust in his gratitude. Why not? This Elias\nrefused to do, for he looked on the gold as his own. They quarrelled, and\nthey wept at the evening meal, and late in the night came one Langton\u2014a\npriest, almost learned\u2014to borrow more money for the Barons. Elias and Adah\nwent to their chamber.\u2019\n\nKadmiel laughed scornfully in his beard. The shots across the valley\nstopped as the shooting-party changed their ground for the last beat.\n\n\u2018So it was I, not Elias,\u2019 he went on, quietly, \u2018that made terms with\nLangton touching the fortieth of the New Laws.\u2019\n\n\u2018What terms?\u2019 said Puck, quickly. \u2018The Fortieth of the Great Charter say:\n\u201cTo none will we sell, refuse, or deny right or justice.\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018True, but the Barons had written first: _To no free man._ It cost me two\nhundred broad pieces of gold to change those narrow words. Langton, the\npriest, understood. \u201cJew though thou art,\u201d said he, \u201cthe change is just,\nand if ever Christian and Jew come to be equal in England thy people may\nthank thee.\u201d Then he went out stealthily, as men do who deal with Israel\nby night. I think he spent my gift upon his altar. Why not? I have spoken\nwith Langton. He was such a man as I might have been if\u2014if we Jews had\nbeen a people. But yet, in many things, a child.\n\n\u2018I heard Elias and Adah abovestairs quarrel, and, knowing the woman was\nthe stronger, I saw that Elias would tell the King of the gold and that\nthe King would continue in his stubbornness. Therefore I saw that the gold\nmust be put away from the reach of any man. Of a sudden, the Word of the\nLord came to me saying, \u201cThe Morning is come, O thou that dwellest in the\nland.\u201d\u2019\n\nKadmiel halted, all black against the pale green sky beyond the wood\u2014a\nhuge robed figure, like the Moses in the picture-Bible.\n\n\u2018I rose. I went out, and as I shut the door on that House of Foolishness,\nthe woman looked from the window and whispered, \u201cI have prevailed on my\nhusband to tell the King!\u201d I answered, \u201cThere is no need. The Lord is with\nme.\u201d\n\n\u2018In that hour the Lord gave me full understanding of all that I must do;\nand His Hand covered me in my ways. First I went to London, to a physician\nof our people, who sold me certain drugs that I needed. You shall see why.\nThence I went swiftly to Pevensey. Men fought all around me, for there\nwere neither rulers nor judges in the abominable land. Yet when I walked\nby them they cried out that I was one Ahasuerus, a Jew, condemned, as they\nbelieve, to live for ever, and they fled from me everyways. Thus the Lord\nsaved me for my work, and at Pevensey I bought me a little boat and moored\nit on the mud beneath the Marsh-gate of the Castle. That also God showed\nme.\u2019\n\nHe was as calm as though he were speaking of some stranger, and his voice\nfilled the little bare wood with rolling music.\n\n\u2018I cast\u2019\u2014his hand went to his breast, and again the strange jewel\ngleamed\u2014\u2018I cast the drugs which I had prepared into the common well of the\nCastle. Nay, I did no harm. The more we physicians know, the less do we\ndo. Only the fool says: \u201cI dare.\u201d I caused a blotched and itching rash to\nbreak out upon their skins, but I knew it would fade in fifteen days. I\ndid not stretch out my hand against their life. They in the Castle thought\nit was the Plague, and they ran forth, taking with them their very dogs.\n\n\u2018A Christian physician, seeing that I was a Jew and a stranger, vowed that\nI had brought the sickness from London. This is the one time I have ever\nheard a Christian leech speak truth of any disease. Thereupon the people\nbeat me, but a merciful woman said: \u201cDo not kill him now. Push him into\nour Castle with his plague, and if, as he says, it will abate on the\nfifteenth day, we can kill him then.\u201d Why not? They drove me across the\ndrawbridge of the Castle, and fled back to their booths. Thus I came to be\nalone with the treasure.\u2019\n\n\u2018But did you know this was all going to happen just right?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018My Prophecy was that I should be a Lawgiver to a People of a strange land\nand a hard speech. I knew I should not die. I washed my cuts. I found the\ntide-well in the wall, and from Sabbath to Sabbath I dove and dug there in\nthat empty, Christian-smelling fortress. H\u00e9! I spoiled the Egyptians! H\u00e9!\nIf they had only known! I drew up many good loads of gold, which I loaded\nby night into my boat. There had been gold-dust too, but that had been\nwashed away by the tides.\u2019\n\n\u2018Didn\u2019t you ever wonder who had put it there?\u2019 said Dan, stealing a glance\nat Puck\u2019s calm, dark face under the hood of his gown. Puck shook his head\nand pursed his lips.\n\n\u2018Often; for the gold was new to me,\u2019 Kadmiel replied. \u2018I know the Golds. I\ncan judge them in the dark; but this was heavier and redder than any we\ndeal in. Perhaps it was the very gold of Parvaim. Eh, why not? It went to\nmy heart to heave it on to the mud, but I saw well that if the evil thing\nremained, or if even the hope of finding it remained, the King would not\nsign the New Laws, and the land would perish.\u2019\n\n\u2018Oh, Marvel!\u2019 said Puck, beneath his breath, rustling in the dead leaves.\n\n\u2018When the boat was loaded I washed my hands seven times, and pared beneath\nmy nails, for I would not keep one grain. I went out by the little gate\nwhere the Castle\u2019s refuse is thrown. I dared not hoist sail lest men\nshould see me; but the Lord commanded the tide to bear me carefully, and I\nwas far from land before the morning.\u2019\n\n\u2018Weren\u2019t you afraid?\u2019 said Una.\n\n\u2018Why? There were no Christians in the boat. At sunrise I made my prayer,\nand cast the gold\u2014all\u2014all that gold into the deep sea! A King\u2019s ransom\u2014no,\nthe ransom of a People! When I had loosed hold of the last bars, the Lord\ncommanded the tide to return me to a haven at the mouth of a river, and\nthence I walked across a wilderness to Lewes, where I have brethren. They\nopened the door to me, and they say\u2014I had not eaten for two days\u2014they say\nthat I fell across the threshold, crying, \u201cI have sunk an army with\nhorsemen in the sea!\u201d\u2019\n\n\u2018But you hadn\u2019t,\u2019 said Una. \u2018Oh, yes! I see! You meant that King John\nmight have spent it on that?\u2019\n\n\u2018Even so,\u2019 said Kadmiel.\n\nThe firing broke out again close behind them. The pheasants poured over\nthe top of a belt of tall firs. They could see young Mr. Meyer, in his new\nyellow gaiters, very busy and excited at the end of the line, and they\ncould hear the thud of the falling birds.\n\n\u2018But what did Elias of Bury do?\u2019 Puck demanded. \u2018He had promised money to\nthe King.\u2019\n\nKadmiel smiled grimly. \u2018I sent him word from London that the Lord was on\nmy side. When he heard that the Plague had broken out in Pevensey, and\nthat a Jew had been thrust into the Castle to cure it, he understood my\nword was true. He and Adah hurried to Lewes and asked me for an\naccounting. He still looked on the gold as his own. I told them where I\nhad laid it, and I gave them full leave to pick it up.... Eh, well! The\ncurses of a fool and the dust of a journey are two things no wise man can\nescape.... But I pitied Elias! The King was wroth at him because he could\nnot lend; the Barons were wroth at him because they heard that he would\nhave lent to the King; and Adah was wroth at him because she was an odious\nwoman. They took ship from Lewes to Spain. That was wise!\u2019\n\n\u2018And you? Did you see the signing of the Law at Runnymede?\u2019 said Puck, as\nKadmiel laughed noiselessly.\n\n\u2018Nay. Who am I to meddle with things too high for me? I returned to Bury,\nand lent money on the autumn crops. Why not?\u2019\n\nThere was a crackle overhead. A cock-pheasant that had sheered aside after\nbeing hit spattered down almost on top of them, driving up the dry leaves\nlike a shell. _Flora_ and _Folly_ threw themselves at it; the children\nrushed forward, and when they had beaten them off and smoothed down the\nplumage Kadmiel had disappeared.\n\n\u2018Well,\u2019 said Puck, calmly, \u2018what did you think of it? Weland gave the\nSword. The Sword gave the Treasure, and the Treasure gave the Law. It\u2019s as\nnatural as an oak growing.\u2019\n\n\u2018I don\u2019t understand. Didn\u2019t he know it was Sir Richard\u2019s old treasure?\u2019\nsaid Dan. \u2018And why did Sir Richard and Brother Hugh leave it lying about?\nAnd\u2014and\u2014\u2014\u2019\n\n\u2018Never mind,\u2019 said Una, politely. \u2018He\u2019ll let us come and go, and look, and\nknow another time. Won\u2019t you, Puck?\u2019\n\n\u2018Another time maybe,\u2019 Puck answered. \u2018Brr! It\u2019s cold\u2014and late. I\u2019ll race\nyou towards home!\u2019\n\nThey hurried down into the sheltered valley. The sun had almost sunk\nbehind Cherry Clack, the trodden ground by the cattle-gates was freezing\nat the edges, and the new-waked north wind blew the night on them from\nover the hills. They picked up their feet and flew across the browned\npastures, and when they halted, panting in the steam of their own breath,\nthe dead leaves whirled up behind them. There was Oak and Ash and Thorn\nenough in that year-end shower to magic away a thousand memories.\n\nSo they trotted to the brook at the bottom of the lawn, wondering why\n_Flora_ and _Folly_ had missed the quarry-hole fox.\n\nOld Hobden was just finishing some hedge-work. They saw his white smock\nglimmer in the twilight where he faggoted the rubbish.\n\n\u2018Winter, he\u2019s come, I rackon, Mus\u2019 Dan,\u2019 he called. \u2018Hard times now till\nHeffle Cuckoo Fair. Yes, we\u2019ll all be glad to see the Old Woman let the\nCuckoo out o\u2019 the basket for to start lawful Spring in England.\u2019 They\nheard a crash, and a stamp and a splash of water as though a heavy old cow\nwere crossing almost under their noses.\n\nHobden ran forward angrily to the ford.\n\n\u2018Gleason\u2019s bull again, playin\u2019 Robin all over the Farm! Oh, look, Mus\u2019\nDan\u2014his great footmark as big as a trencher. No bounds to his impidence!\nHe might count himself to be a man\u2014or Somebody.\u2019\n\nA voice the other side of the brook boomed:\n\n  \u2018I marvel who his cloak would turn\n  When Puck had led him round\n  Or where those walking fires would burn\u2014\u2014\u2019\n\nThen the children went in singing \u201cFarewell Rewards and Fairies\u201d at the\ntops of their voices. They had forgotten that they had not even said\ngood-night to Puck.\n\n\n\n\nTHE CHILDREN\u2019S SONG\n\n\n  _Land of our Birth, we pledge to thee_\n  _Our love and toil in the years to be,_\n  _When we are grown and take our place,_\n  _As men and women with our race._\n\n  Father in Heaven who lovest all,\n  Oh help Thy children when they call;\n  That they may build from age to age,\n  An undefiled heritage!\n\n  Teach us to bear the yoke in youth,\n  With steadfastness and careful truth;\n  That, in our time, Thy Grace may give\n  The Truth whereby the Nations live.\n\n  Teach us to rule ourselves alway,\n  Controlled and cleanly night and day;\n  That we may bring, if need arise,\n  No maimed or worthless sacrifice.\n\n  Teach us to look in all our ends,\n  On Thee for judge, and not our friends;\n  That we, with Thee, may walk uncowed\n  By fear or favour of the crowd.\n\n  Teach us the Strength that cannot seek,\n  By deed or thought, to hurt the weak;\n  That, under Thee, we may possess\n  Man\u2019s strength to comfort man\u2019s distress.\n\n  Teach us Delight in simple things,\n  And Mirth that has no bitter springs;\n  Forgiveness free of evil done,\n  And Love to all men \u2019neath the sun!\n\n  _Land of our Birth, our Faith our Pride,_\n  _For whose dear sake our fathers died;_\n  _O Motherland, we pledge to thee,_\n  _Head, heart, and hand through the years to be!_\n\n\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTE\n\n\n    1 Copyright, 1905, by Rudyard Kipling.\n\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER\u2019S NOTE\n\n\nThe following typographical errors were corrected:\n\n      page 7, \u201cPyramis\u201d changed to \u201cPyramus\u201d\n      page 9, quotes added before \u201ccouldn\u2019t\u201d and \u201cI\u201d\n      page 13, \u201cdraggons\u201d changed to \u201cdragons\u201d\n      page 27, quote added before \u201cLate\u201d\n      page 43, \u201csummons\u201d changed to \u201csummon\u201d\n      page 51, \u201cwe\u201d added before \u201cdo\u201d\n      page 62, double quote changed to single quote after \u201cpirate-folk?\u201d\n      page 64, semicolon added after \u201cYes\u201d\n      page 68, double \u201csaid\u201d removed, single quote changed to double quote\n      after \u201ckill!\u201d\n      page 69, comma added after \u201cKitai\u201d\n      page 76, double \u201cwhere\u201d removed\n      page 85, quote added after \u201cgold!\u201d\n      page 97, quote removed after \u201cAquila.\u201d\n      page 99, \u201cshouder\u201d changed to \u201cshoulder\u201d, single quote changed to\n      double quote after \u201cLook!\u201d\n      page 102, \u201clearned\u201d changed to \u201cleaned\u201d\n      page 103, \u201ca\u201d added between \u201cis\u201d and \u201cgood\u201d\n      page 108, quote removed before \u201cAt\u201d\n      page 110, single quote changed to double quote before \u201cBut\u201d\n      page 127, quote added after \u201ccatapult,\u201d, quote removed after \u201cUna.\u201d,\n      \u201cquicky\u201d changed to \u201cquickly\u201d\n      page 128, comma removed after \u201cbigger\u201d\n      page 135, \u201chmself\u201d changed to \u201chimself\u201d\n      page 137, \u201cdid\u2019nt\u201d changed to \u201cdidn\u2019t\u201d\n      page 141, quote added before \u201cBut\u201d\n      page 142, single quote changed to double quote after \u201creason,\u201d\n      page 143, \u201cCylops\u201d changed to \u201cCyclops\u201d\n      page 152, \u201cCaesar\u201d changed to \u201cC\u00e6sar\u201d\n      page 153, comma added after \u201cchildren,\u201d\n      page 156, quote added after \u201cmake.\u201d\n      page 160, comma added after \u201cNo\u201d, period added after \u201cup\u201d\n      page 166, quote added after \u201cthoughts.\u201d\n      page 170, double quote changed to single quote before \u201cSorry\u201d\n      page 184, single quote changed to double quote after \u201cMan.\u201d\n      page 188, single quote changed to double quote after \u201chim,\u201d,\n      \u201cto-day?\u201d and \u201cfinished!\u201d\n      page 193, quote added after \u201cletter.\u201d\n      page 205, parenthesis added after \u201ccomplain\u201d\n      page 214, period added after \u201clime.\u201d\n      page 218, \u201csepentines\u201d changed to \u201cserpentines\u201d\n      page 224, quote added after \u201cvoice.\u201d\n      page 235, apostroph moved after \u201cconjurin\u2019.\u201d\n      page 237, quote added before \u201cDymchurch\u201d\n      page 239, apostroph and comma changed after \u201cnothin\u2019,\u201c\n      page 240, \u201cshouder\u201d changed to \u201cshoulder\u201d\n      page 241, apostroph and periodchanged after \u201cbein\u2019.\u201d\n      page 244, apostroph added after \u201can\u201d\n      page 248, comma removed after \u201cRobin\u201d\n      page 260, \u201casid\u201d changed to \u201csaid\u201d\n      page 269, \u201cstubborness\u201d changed to \u201cstubbornness\u201d\n      page 275, quote added before \u201cI\u201d, \u201cburne\u201d changed to \u201cburn\u201d","title":"Puck of Pook's Hill","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":58550}