’When De Aquila had gone, Hugh would have thanked me for saving their lives; but the Lady AElueva said that I had done it only for the sake of receiving the Manor.

’"How could I know that De Aquila would give it me?” I said.  “If I had told him I had spent my night in your halter he would have burned the place twice over by now.”

’"If any man had put my neck in a rope,” she said, “I would have seen his house burned thrice over before I would have made terms.”

’"But it was a woman,” I said; and I laughed, and she wept and said that I mocked her in her captivity.

’"Lady,” said I, “there is no captive in this valley except one, and he is not a Saxon.”

’At this she cried that I was a Norman thief, who came with false, sweet words, having intended from the first to turn her out in the fields to beg her bread.  Into the fields!  She had never seen the face of war!

’I was angry, and answered, “This much at least I can disprove, for I swear”—­and on my sword-hilt I swore it in that place—­“I swear I will never set foot in the Great Hall till the Lady AElueva herself shall summon me there.”

’She went away, saying nothing, and I walked out, and Hugh limped after me, whistling dolorously (that is a custom of the English), and we came upon the three Saxons that had bound me.  They were now bound by my men-at-arms, and behind them stood some fifty stark and sullen churls of the House and the Manor, waiting to see what should fall.  We heard De Aquila’s trumpets blow thin through the woods Kentward.

’"Shall we hang these?” said my men.

’"Then my churls will fight,” said Hugh, beneath his breath; but I bade him ask the three what mercy they hoped for.

’"None,” said they all.  “She bade us hang thee if our master died.  And we would have hanged thee.  There is no more to it.”

’As I stood doubting, a woman ran down from the oak wood above the King’s Hill yonder, and cried out that some Normans were driving off the swine there.

’"Norman or Saxon,” said I, “we must beat them back, or they will rob us every day.  Out at them with any arms ye have!” So I loosed those three carles and we ran together, my men-at-arms and the Saxons with bills and axes which they had hidden in the thatch of their huts, and Hugh led them.  Half-way up the King’s Hill we found a false fellow from Picardy—­a sutler that sold wine in the Duke’s camp—­with a dead knight’s shield on his arm, a stolen horse under him, and some ten or twelve wastrels at his tail, all cutting and slashing at the pigs.  We beat them off, and saved our pork.  One hundred and seventy pigs we saved in that great battle.’  Sir Richard laughed.