“Let us drink,” said the courtly bishop, “to the health and happiness of Norman lord and English lady, and may their union be a type of the union betwixt the two people, who, forgetting that they met as worthy foes at Senlac, may live as brethren under the noblest king in Christendom.”

The toast was drunk with acclamations; even the English guests thought they meant it in the delirium of the jovial scene, and fancied for a moment that Englishman and Norman might yet live in peace.

“Is it not sweet?” said the good prior to one of the English guests.  “It reminds me of the happy time when it is said the wolf shall lie down with the lamb.”

“Methinks the lamb is likely in this case to lie down inside the wolf, especially if he be a Norman wolf.”

But the speaker, whose attendance was compulsory, or he had not been there, had few sympathisers at the moment.

“Let us hope for the best.  Sir Hugo will not, cannot forget the solemn covenant he has made today, to love and to cherish, till death part him and his bride.”

“I hardly think, good father, that day is far off, judging by her looks.”

The wax tapers cast a sweet, soft light over the pale, sad features of Winifred of Aescendune, daughter of Herstan {vii} of Clifftown, on the Thames, who had but lately, full of years, gone to his rest, spared the sad days of the Conquest—­days utterly unanticipated by those who died while Edward the Confessor yet reigned in peace, ere Harold visited the Norman court and swore over the holy bones.

She was but fulfilling a sad duty—­at least she thought so—­as she played her ill-omened part, sacrificing herself for her boy and her only daughter Edith.  For what was the alternative?  Was it not to go forth as fugitives and vagabonds on the face of the earth—­a prey to every foreign noble—­leaving her own dear people of Aescendune to the wolf, without intercessor or protector.

And thus it came to pass that Winifred of Aescendune married Hugo de Malville.

CHAPTER IV.  THE NORMAN PAGES.

In the days of chivalry the first step towards the degree of knighthood was that of page.  Boys of noble birth, about their twelfth year, were generally transferred from the home of their childhood to the castle of some gallant baron to learn the customs of war and peace at his hand, and to acquire habits of good order and discipline.  These lads fared harder by far than modern boys do at our great schools; they slept on harder couches, rose earlier, and had less dainty food.  They were forced to pay implicit obedience to their superiors; modesty in demeanour, as becoming their age, was strictly required before their elders; and they had to perform many offices which would now be deemed menial.