Couldthefair—hairedmaninthegravehavebeenoneofthese？
　　ThusIspeculatedbeforeIlookedatthepileofparchmentssoevidentlypreparedfromsheepskinsbyonewhohadonlyaveryrudimentaryknowledgeofhowtoworksuchstuff,notknowingthatinthoseparchmentswashidtheanswertomanyofmyquestions。TotheseIturnedlastofall,forweallshrinkfromparchments;theircontentsaregenerallysodull。Therewasagreatbundleofthemthathadbeenlashedtogetherwithakindofstrawrope,finestrawthatremindedmeofthatusedtomakePanamahats。Butthishadrottedunderneathtogetherwithallthebottompartoftheparchments,manysheetsofthem,ofwhichonlyfragmentsremained,coveredwithdrymouldandcrumbling。Thereforetheropewaseasytoremoveandbeneathit,holdingthesheetsinplace,wasonlysomestoutandcomparativelymodernstring——ithadaredthreadinitthatmarkeditasnavycordofanoldpattern。
　　Islippedthesefasteningsoffandliftedablankpieceofskinsetuponthetop。Beneathappearedthefirstsheetofparchment,closely,verycloselycoveredwithsmall"black—letter"writing,sofaintandfadedthatevenifIwereabletoreadblack—letter,whichIcannot,ofitIcouldhavemadenothingatall。Thethingwashopeless。
　　Doubtlessinthatwritinglaythekeytothemystery,butitcouldneverbedecipheredbymeoranyoneelse。TheladywiththeeyeslikeadeerhadappearedtooldPottsinvain;invainhadshebiddenhimtohandoverthismanuscripttome。
　　SoIthoughtatthetime,notknowingtheresourcesofscience。
　　Afterwards,however,Itookthathugebundletoafriend,alearnedfriendwhosebusinessinlifeitwasandis,todealwithandtodecipheroldmanuscripts。
　　"Looksprettyhopeless,"hesaid,afterstaringatthese。"Still,let'shaveatry;oneneverknowstillonetries。"
　　Thenhewenttoacupboardinhismunimentroomandproducedabottlefullofsomestraw—colouredfluidintowhichhedippedanordinarypaintingbrush。Thischargedbrushherubbedbackwardsandforwardsoverthefirstlinesofthewritingandwaited。Withinaminute,beforemyastonishedeyes,thatfaint,indistinguishablescriptturnedcoal—black,asblackasthoughithadbeenwrittenwiththebestmoderninkyesterday。
　　"It'sallright,"hesaidtriumphantly,"it'svegetableink,andthisstuffhasthepowertobringitupasitwasonthedaywhenitwasused。Itwillstaylikethatforafortnightandthenfadeawayagain。
　　Yourmanuscriptisprettyancient,myfriend,timeofRichardII,I
　　shouldsay,butIcanreaditeasilyenough。Look,itbegins,'I,HubertdeHastings,writethisinthelandofTavantinsuyu,farfromEnglandwhereIwasborn,whitherIshallnevermorereturn,beingawandererastheruneupontheswordofmyancestor,Thorgrimmer,foretoldthatIshouldbe,whichswordmymothergavemeonthedayoftheburningofHastingsbytheFrench,'andsoon。"Herehestopped。
　　"Thenforheaven'ssake,doreadit,"Isaid。
　　"Mydearfriend,"heanswered,"itlookstomeasthoughitwouldmeanseveralmonths'work,andforgivemeforsayingthatIampaidasalaryformytime。NowI'lltellyouwhatyouhavetodo。Allthisstuffmustbetreated,sheetbysheet,andwhenitturnsblackitmustbephotographedbeforethewritingfadesoncemore。Thenaskilledperson——so—and—so,orso—and—so,aretwonamesthatoccurtome——mustbeemployedtodecipheritagain,sheetbysheet。Itwillcostyoumoney,butIshouldsaythatitwasworthwhile。Wherethedevilis,orwas,thelandofTavantinsuyu？"
　　"Iknow,"Ianswered,gladtobeabletoshowmyselfsuperiortomylearnedfriendinonehumbleinstance。"TavantinsuyuwasthenativenamefortheEmpireofPerubeforetheSpanishInvasion。ButhowdidthisHubertgetthereinthetimeofRichardII？ThatissomecenturiesearlierthanPizarrosetfootuponitsshores。"
　　"Goandfindout,"heanswered。"Itwillamuseyouforquitealongwhileandperhapstheresultsmaymeettheexpensesofdecipherment,iftheyareworthpublishing。Iexpecttheyarenot,butthen,Ihavereadsomanyoldmanuscriptsandfoundmostofthemsojollydull。"
　　Well,thatbusinesswasaccomplishedatacostthatIdonotliketorecord,andherearetheresults,moreorlessmodernised,sinceoftenHubertofHastingsexpressedhimselfinaqueerandarchaicfashion。
　　AlsosometimesheusedIndianwordsasthoughhehadtalkedthetongueofthesePeruvians,orrathertheChancavarietyofit,solongthathehadbeguntoforgethisownlanguage。MyselfIhavefoundhisstoryveryromanticandinteresting,andIhopethatsomeotherswillbeofthesameopinion。Letthemjudge。
　　Butoh,Idowonderwhatwastheendofit,someofwhichdoubtlesswasrecordedontherottedsheetsthoughofcoursetherecanhavebeennoaccountofthegreatbattleinwhichhefell,sinceQuillacouldnotwriteatall,leastofallinEnglish,thoughIsupposeshesurviveditandhim。
　　TheonlyhintofthatendistobefoundinoldPotts'sdreamorvision,andwhatistheworthofdreamsandvisions？
　　BOOKI
　　CHAPTERI
　　THESWORDANDTHERING
　　I,HubertofHastings,writethisinthelandofTavantinsuyu,farfromEngland,whereIwasborn,whitherIshallnevermorereturn,beingawandererastheruneupontheswordofmyancestor,Thorgrimmer,foretoldthatIshouldbe,whichswordmymothergavemeonthedayoftheburningofHastingsbytheFrench。IwriteitwithapenthatIhaveshapedfromawingfeatherofthegreateagleofthemountains,withinkthatIhavemadefromthejuicesofcertainherbswhichIdiscovered,andonparchmentthatIhavesplitfromtheskinsofnativesheep,withmyownhands,butbadlyIfear,thoughIhaveseenthatartpractisedwhenIwasamerchantoftheCheapinLondonTown。
　　Iwillbeginatthebeginning。
　　Iamthesonofafishing—boatownerandwasatraderintheancienttownofHastings,andmyfatherwasdrownedwhilefollowinghistradeatsea。Afterwards,beingtheonlychildleftofhis,Itookonhisbusiness,andonacertaindaywentouttoseatonetfishwithtwoofmyservingmen。Iwasthenayoungmanofaboutthreeandtwentyyearsofageandnotuncomely。Myhair,whichIworelong,wasfairincolourandcurled。Myeyes,setwideapart,wereandstillarelargeandblue,althoughtheyhavedarkenedsomewhatandsunkintotheheadinthislandofheatandsunshine。Mynosewaswide—nostrilledandlarge,mymouthalsowasover—large,althoughmymotherandsomeothersusedtothinkitwell—shaped。Intruth,Iwaslargealloverthoughnotsotall,beingburly,withagreatbreadthofchestanduncommonthicknessthroughthebody,andverystrong;sostrongthattherewerefewwhocouldthrowmewhenIwasyoung。
　　Fortherest,likeKingDavid,I,whoamnowsotannedandweatherwornthatatalittledistanceweremyhairandbeardhiddenImightalmostbetakenforoneoftheIndianchiefsaboutme,wasofaruddyandapleasantcountenance,perhapsbecauseofmywonderfulhealth,whohadneverknownadayofsickness,andofaneasynaturethatoftengoeswithhealth。Iwilladdthis,forwhyshouldInot——thatI
　　wasnofool,butoneofthosewhosucceedinthatuponwhichtheysettheirminds。HadIbeenafoolIshouldnotto—daybethekingofagreatpeopleandthehusbandoftheirqueen;indeed,Ishouldnotbealive。
　　Butenoughofmyselfandmyappearanceinthoseyearsthatseemasfaroffasthoughtheyhadneverbeensaveinthelandofdreams。
　　NowIandmytwoservingmen,sailorsbothofthemlikemyselfandmostofthefolkofHastingssetoutuponasummereve,purposingtofishallnightandreturnatdawn。Wecametoourchosengroundandcastoutthenet,meetingwithwonderfulfortunesincebythreeinthemorningthebigboatwasfullofeverykindoffish。Neverbefore,indeed,hadwemadesolargeahaul。
　　Lookingbackatthatgreatcatch,ashereinthisfarlanditismyhabittodouponeverything,howeversmall,thathappenedtomeinmyyouthbeforeIbecameawandererandanexile,Iseemtoseeinitanomen。Forhasitnotalwaysbeenmylotinlifetobekissedoffortuneandtogathergreatstore,andthenofasuddentoloseitallasIwastolosethatrichmultitudeoffishes？
　　To—day,whenIwritethis,oncemoreIhavegreatwealthofpompandloveandpower,ofgoldalso,morethanIcancount。WhenIgoforth,myarmies,whostilllookonmeashalfagod,shouttheirwelcomeandkisstheairaftertheirheathenfashion。Mybeauteousqueenbowsdowntomeandthewomenofmyhouseholdabasethemselvesintothedust。
　　ThepeopleoftheAncientCityofGoldturntheirfacestothewallandthechildrencovertheireyeswiththeirhandsthattheymaynotlookuponmysplendourasIpass,whilemaidensthrowflowersformyfeettotread。Uponmyjudgmenthangslifeordeath,andmylightestwordisasthoughitwerespokenfromheaven。Theseandmanyotherthingsaremine,thetrappingsofpower,theprerogativeoftheLord—
　　from—the—SeawhobroughtvictorytotheChancapeopleandledthembacktotheirancienthomewheretheymightlivesafe,farfromtheInca'srage。
　　Andyetoften,asIsitaloneinmysplendourupontheroofoftheancienthallsorwanderthroughthestarlitpalacegardens,IcalltomindthatgreatcatchoffishesintheEnglishseaandofwhatfollowedafter。IcalltomindalsomyprosperityandwealthasoneofthefirstmerchantsofLondonTownandwhatfollowedafter。Icalltomind,too,thewinningofBlancheAleys,theladysofarabovemeinrankandstationandwhatfollowedafter。ThenitisthatIgrowafraidofwhatmayfollowafterthispresenthourofpeaceandloveandplenty。
　　Certainlyonethingwillfollow,andthatisdeath。Itmaycomelateoritmaycomesoon。ButyesterdayarumourreachedmethroughmyspiesthatKariUpanqui,theIncaofTavantinsuyu,hewhooncewasasmybrother,butwhonowhatesmebecauseofhissuperstitions,andbecauseItookaVirginoftheSuntobemywife,gathersagreathosttofollowonthepathwetrodmanyyearsagowhentheChancasfledfromtheIncatyrannybacktotheirhomeintheancientCityofGoldandtosmiteushere。Thathost,saidtherumours,cannotmarchtillnextyear,andthenwillbeanotheryearuponitsjourney。Still,knowingKari,Iamsurethatitwillmarch,yes,andarrive,afterwhichmustbefallthegreatbattleinthemountainpasseswherein,asofold,IshallleadtheChancaarmies。
　　PerchanceIamdoomedtofallinthatbattle。DoesnottheruneuponWave—Flame,theswordofThorgrimmermyancestor,sayofhimthatholdsitthat,"Conquering,conqueredshallhebe,Andfarawayshallsleepwithme"？
　　Well,iftheChancasconquer,whatcareIifIamconquered？'Twouldbeagooddeathandaclean,tofallbyKari'sspear,ifIknewthatKariandhishostfellalso,asIswearthatfalltheyshall,St。
　　Huberthelpingme。ThenatleastQuillaandherchildrenwouldliveoninpeaceandgreatnesssincetheycanhavenootherfoetofear。
　　Death,whatisdeath？Isaythatitisthehopeofeveryoneofusandmostofalltheexileandthewanderer。Atthebestitmaybeglory;
　　attheworstitmustbesleep。Moreover,amIsohappythatIshouldfeartodie？Quillacannotreadthiswriting,andthereforeIwillanswer,No。IamaChristian,butsheandthoseabouther,aye,myownchildrenwiththem,worshipthemoonandthehostofheaven。Iamwhite—skinned,theyarethehueofcopper,thoughitistruethatmylittledaughter,Gudruda,whomInamedsoaftermymother,isalmostwhite。TherearesecretsintheirheartsthatIshallneverlearnandtherearesecretsinminefromwhichtheycannotdrawtheveilbecauseourbloodsaredifferent。YetGodknows,Ilovethemwellenough,andmostofallthatgreatestofwomen,Quilla。
　　Oh！thetruthisthathereonearththereisnohappinessforman。
　　ItisbecauseofthisrumourofthecomingofKariwithhishostthatIsetmyselftothistask,thatIhavelonghadinmymind,towritedownsomethingofmyhistory,bothinEnglandandinthislandwhich,atanyrateforhundredsofyears,mineisthefirstwhitefoottopress。ItseemsafoolishthingtodosincewhenIhavewrittenwhowillread,andwhatwillchancetothatwhichIhavewritten？Ishallleaveordersthatitbeplacedbeneathmyfeetinthetomb,butwhowilleverfindthattombagain？StillIwritebecausesomethinginmyhearturgesmetothetask。
　　Ireturntothefar—offdays。OurboatbeingfullwithmerryheartswesetsailbeforeafaintwindforHastingsbeach。Asyettherewaslittlelightandmuchfog,stillthelandwardbreezewasenoughtodrawusforward。Thenofasuddenweheardsoundsasofmentalkinguponshipsandtheclankofsparsandblocks。Presentlycameapuffofairliftingthefogforalittleandwesawthatwewereinthemidstofagreatfleet,aFrenchfleet,fortheLiliesofFranceflewattheirmast—heads,saw,too,thattheirprowsweresetforHastings,thoughforthewhiletheywerebecalmed,sincethewindthatwasenoughforourlight,large—sailedfishing—boatcouldnotstirtheirbulk。Moreover,theysawus,forthemen—at—armsonthenearestshipshoutedthreatsandcursesatusandfollowedtheshoutswitharrowsthatalmosthitus。
　　Thenthefogcloseddownagain,andinitweslippedthroughtheFrenchfleet。
　　ItmayhavebeenthebestpartofanhourlaterthatwereachedHastings。Beforetheboatwasmadefasttothejetty,Isprangtoitshouting:
　　"Stir！stir！theFrenchareuponyou！Toarms！Wehaveslippedthroughawholefleetoftheminthemist。"
　　Instantlythesleepyquayseemedtoawaken。Fromtheneighbouringfishmarket,fromeverywheresailormenandotherscamerunning,followedbychildrenwithgapingmouths,whilefromthedoorsofhousesfarawayshotwomenwithscaredfaces,likeferretedrabbitsfromtheirburrows。Inaminutethecrowdhadsurroundedme,allaskingquestionsatonceinsuchafashionthatIcouldonlyanswerthemwithmycryof:
　　"Stir！theFrenchareuponyou。Toarms,Isay。Toarms！"
　　Presentlythroughthethrongadvancedanoldwhite—beardedmanwhoworeabadgeofoffice,cryingashecame,"Makewayforthebailiff！"
　　Thecrowdobeyed,openingapath,andsoonwewerefacetoface。
　　"Whatisit,HubertofHastings？"heasked。"Istherefirethatyoushoutsoloudly？"
　　"Aye,Worship,"Ianswered。"FireandmurderandallthegiftsthattheFrenchhaveforEngland。TheFleetofFranceisbeatingupforHastings,fiftysailofthemormore。Wecreptthroughtheminthefog,forthewindwhichwouldscarcemovethemservedourturnandbeyondanarrowortwo,theytooknonoteofafishing—boat。"
　　"Whencecomethey？"askedthebailiff,bewildered。
　　"Iknownot,butthoseinanotherboatwepassedinthemidstshoutedthattheseFrenchwereravagingthecoastandheadingforHastingstoputittofireandsword。Thenthatboatvanishedaway,Iknownotwhere,andthatisallIhavetotellsavethattheFrenchwillbeherewithinanhour。"
　　Withoutstayingtoaskmorequestions,thebailiffturnedandrantowardsthetown,andpresentlythealarmbellsrangoutfromthetowersofAllSaintsandSt。Clement's,whilecrierssummonedallmentothemarket—place。MeanwhileI,notwithoutasadlookatmyboatandtherichcatchwithin,mademywayintothetown,followedbymytwomen。
　　PresentlyIreachedanancient,timberedhouse,long,low,andrambling,withayardbyitssidefullofbarrels,anchors,andothermarinestoressuchasrope,thathadtodowiththetradeIcarriedonatthisplace。
　　I,Hubert,withamindfulloffears,thoughnotformyself,andastirringofthebloodsuchaswasnaturaltomyageattheapproachofmyfirsttasteofbattle,ranfastuptothathousewhichIhavedescribed,andpausedforamomentbythebigelmtreethatgrewinfrontofthedoor,ofwhichthelowerboughsweresawnoffbecausetheyshutoutthelightfromthewindows。Irememberthatelmtreeverywell,firstbecausewhenIwasachildstarlingsnestedinaholeinthetrunk,andIrearedoneinawickercageandmadeatalkingbirdofitwhichIkeptforseveralyears。Itwassotamethatitusedtogoaboutsittingonmyshoulder,tillatlast,outsidethetownacatfrighteneditthence,andbeforeIcouldrecaptureit,itwastakenbyahawk,whichhawkIshotafterwardswithanarrowoutofrevenge。
　　AlsothiselmisimpresseduponmebythefactthatonthatmorningwhenIhaltedbyit,Inotedhowgreenandfullofleafitwas。Nextmorning,afterthefire,Isawitagain,allcharredandblackened,withitsbeautifulfoliagewitheredbytheheat。Thiscontrastremaineduponmymemory,andwheneverIseeanygreatchangeoffortunefromprosperitytoruin,orfromlifetodeath,alwaysI
　　bethinkmeofthatelm。Foritisbylittlethingswhichweourselveshaveseenandnotbythosewrittenofortoldbyothers,thatwemeasureandcompareevents。
　　ThereasonthatIransohardandthenpausedbytheelm,wasbecausemywidowedmotherlivedinthathouse。KnowingthattheFrenchmeantmischiefforagoodreason,becauseoneoftheirarrows,orperhapsaquarrelfromacross—bow,whistledjustpastmyheadoutthereuponthesea,myfirstthoughtwastogetherawaytosomeplaceofsafety,noeasytaskseeingthatshewasinfirmwithage。Mysecond,thatwhichcausedmetopausebythetree,washowIshouldbreakthenewstoherinsuchafashionthatshewouldnotbeover—frightened。HavingthoughtthisoverIwentonintothehouse。
　　Thedooropenedintothesitting—roomthathadalowroofofplasterandbigoakbeams。ThereIfoundmymotherkneelingbythetableuponwhichfoodwassetforbreakfast:friedherrings,coldmeat,andajugofale。Shewassayingherprayersafterhercustom,beingveryreligiousthoughinanewfashion,sinceshewasafollowerofapreachercalledWycliffe,whotroubledtheChurchinthosedays。Sheseemedtohavegonetosleepatherprayers,andIwatchedherforamoment,hesitatingtowakenher。Mymother,aseventhenInoted,wasaveryhandsomewoman,thoughold,forIwasbornwhenshehadbeenmarriedtwentyyearsormore,withwhitehairandwell—cutfeaturesthatshowedthegoodbloodofwhichshecame,forshewasbetterbredthanmyfatherandquarrelledwithherkintomarryhim。
　　Atthesoundofmyfootstepsshewokeupandsawme。
　　"Strange,"shesaid,"Isleptatmyprayerswhodidsolittlelastnight,ashasbecomeahabitwithmewhenyouareouta—fishing,forwhichGodforgiveme,anddreamedthattherewassometroubleforward。
　　Scoldmenot,Hubert,forwhentheseahastakenthefatherandtwosons,itisscarcelywonderfulthatIshouldbefearfulforthelastofmyblood。Helpmetorise,Hubert,forthiswaterseemstogatherinmylimbsandmakesthemheavy。Oneday,theleechsays,itwillgettotheheartandthenallwillbeover。"
　　Iobeyed,firstkissingheronthebrow,andwhenshewasseatedinherarmedchairbythetable,Isaid,"Youdreamtoowell,Mother。Thereistrouble。Hark！St。Clement'sbellsaretalkingofit。TheFrenchcometovisitHastings。IknowforIsailedthroughtheirfleetjustafterdawn。"
　　"Isitso？"sheaskedquietly。"Ifearedworse。Ifearedlestthedreammeantthatyouhadgonetojoinyourbrothersinthedeep。Well,theFrencharenothereyet,asthankGodyouare。Soeatanddrink,forweofEnglandfightbestonfullbellies。"
　　AgainIobeyedwhowasveryhungryafterthatlongnightandneededfoodandale,andasIswallowedthemweheardthesoundoffolkshoutingandrunning。
　　"Youareinhaste,Hubert,tojointheothersonthequayandsendaFrenchmanortwotohellwiththatbigbowofyours？"shesaidinquiringly。
　　"Nay,"Ianswered,"Iaminhastetogetyououtofthistown,whichI
　　fearmaybeburnt。ThereisacertaincaveupyonderbytheMinnesRockwhereIthinkyoumightliesafe,Mother。"
　　"Ithascomedowntomefrommyfathers,Hubert,thatitwasneverthefashionofthewomenofthenorthtokeeptheirmentoshieldthemwhendutycalledthemotherwhere。Iamhelplessinmylimbsandheavy,andcannotclimb,orbeborneupyonderhilltoanycave。HereIstopwhereIhavedweltthesefive—and—fortyyears,toliveordieasGodpleases。Getyoutoyourduty,man。Stay。Callthosewenchesandbidthemflyinlandtotheirfolk,outBurwashway。Theyareyoungandfleetoffoot,andnoFrenchmanwillcatchthem。"
　　Isummonedthegirlswhowerestaring,white—faced,fromtheatticwindow—place。Inthreeminutestheyweregone,thoughitistruethatoneofthem,thebraver,wishedtobidewithhermistress。
　　IwatchedthemstartupthestreetwithotherfugitiveswhowerepouringoutofHastings,andcamebacktomymother。AsIdidsoagreatshouttoldmethattheFrenchfleethadbeensighted。
　　"Hubert,"shesaid,"takethiskeyandgototheoakchestinmysleepingroom,liftoutthelinenatthetopandbringmethatwhichlieswrappedinclothbeneath。"
　　Ididso,returningwithabundlethatwaslongandthin。Withaknifeshecutthestringthattiedit。WithinwereabagofmoneyandaswordinanancientscabbardcoveredwitharoughskinwhichItooktobethatofashark,whichscabbardinpartswasinlaidwithgold。
　　"Drawit,"saidmymother。
　　Ididso,andtherecametolightatwo—edgedbladeofbluesteel,suchasIhadneverseenbefore,foronthebladewereengravedstrangecharacterswhereofIcouldmakenothing,althoughasitchancedIcouldreadandwrite,havingbeentaughtbythemonksinmychildhood。Thehilt,also,thatwasintheformofacross,hadgoldinlaiduponit;atthetopofit,alargeknoborappleofamber,muchwornbyhandling。Fortherestitwasabeauteousweaponandwellbalanced。
　　"Whatofthissword？"Iasked。
　　"This,Son。Withtheblackbowthatyouhave,"andshepointedtothecasethatleanedagainstthetable,"ithascomedowninmyfamilyformanygenerations。MyfathertoldmethatitwastheswordofoneThorgrimmer,hisancestor,aNorseman,aVikinghecalledhim,whocamewiththosewhotookEnglandbeforetheNormantime;whichIcanwellbelievesincemyfather'sname,likemine,tillImarried,wasGrimmer。Thissword,also,hasanameanditisWave—Flame。Withit,thetaletells,Thorgrimmerdidgreatdeeds,slayingmanyaftertheirheathenfashioninhisbattlesbylandandsea。Forhewasawanderer,anditissaidofhimthatoncehesailedtoanewlandfaracrosstheocean,andwonhomeagainaftermanystrangeadventures,todieatlasthereinEnglandinsomefray。ThatisallIknow,savethatalearnedmanfromthenorthoncetoldmyfather'sfatherthatthewritingontheswordmeans:——
　　"HewholiftsWave—FlameonhighInloveshallliveandinbattledie;
　　Storm—tossedo'erwideseasshallroamAndinstrangelandsshallmakehishome。
　　Conquering,conqueredshallhebe,Andfarawayshallsleepwithme。
　　"ThosewerethewordswhichIrememberbecauseofthejingleofthem;
　　alsobecausesuchseemstohavebeenthefateofThorgrimmerandtheswordthathisgrandsontookfromhistomb。"
　　HereIwouldhaveaskedaboutthisgrandsonandthetomb,buthavingnotime,heldmypeace。
　　"AllmylifehaveIkeptthatsword,"wentonmymother,"notgivingittoyourfatherorbrothers,lestthefatewrittenonitshouldbefallthem,forthoseoldwizardsofthenorth,whofashionedsuchweaponswithtoilandskill,couldforeseethefuture——asattimesI
　　can,foritisinmyblood。YetnowIammovedtobidyoutakeit,Hubert,andgowhereitsflameleadsyouanddreeyourgloom,whateveritmaybe,forIknowyouwilluseitlikeThorgrimmer'sself。"
　　Shepausedforamoment,thenwenton:
　　"Hubert,perhapswepartforthelasttime,forIthinkthatmyhourisathand。Butletnotthattroubleyou,sinceIamgladtogotojointhosewhowentbefore,andotherswiththem,perchanceThorgrimmer'sself。Hearken,Hubert。Ifaughtbefallsme,orthisplace,staynothere。GotoLondontownandseekoutJohnGrimmer,mybrother,therichmerchantandgoldsmithwhodwellsintheplacecalledCheap。Heknewyouasachildandlovedyou,andlackingoffspringofhisownwillwelcomeyouforbothoursakes。MyfatherwouldnotgiveJohntheswordlestitsfateshouldbeonhim,butI
　　saythatJohnwillbegladtowelcomeoneofourracewhoholdsitinhishand。Takeitthen,andwithitthatbagofgold,whichmayproveofserviceereallbedone。
　　"Aye,andthereisonemorething——thisringwhich,sosaysthetale,camedownwiththeswordandthebow,andoncehadwritingonitlikethesword,thoughthatislongsincerubbedaway。Takeitandwearittillperchance,insomedaytocome,yougiveittoanotherasIdid。"
　　Wonderingatallthistalewhich,afterhersecretfashion,mymotherhadkeptfrommetillthathour,Isettheringuponmyfinger。
　　"Igaveyonderringtoyourfatheronthedaythatwewerebetrothed,"
　　wentonmymother,"andItookitbackagainfromhiscorpseafterhehadbeenfoundfloatinginthesea。NowIpassitontoyouwhosoonwillbeallthatisleftofbothofus。"
　　"Hark！"shecontinued,"thecriersummonsallmenwiththeirarmstothemarket—placetofightEngland'sfoes。ThereforeonewordmorewhileIbuckletheswordWave—Flameontoyou,asdoubtlesshiswomenfolkdidontoThorgrimmer,yourancestor。Myblessingonyou,Hubert。
　　BeyousuchaoneasThorgrimmerwas,forweoftheNorseblooddesirethatourlovesandsonsshouldprovenotbackwardwhenswordsarealoftandarrowsfly。Butbeyoumorethanhe,beyouaChristianalso,rememberingthathoweverlongyoulive,andtheBattle—maidenshavenotmarkedyouyet,atlastyoumustdieandgiveaccount。
　　"Hubert,youaresuchaoneaswomenwilllove;one,too,who,Ifearme,willbealoverofwomen,forthatweaknessgoeswithstrengthandmanhoodbyNature'slaws。Becarefulofwomen,Hubert,andifyoumay,choosethosewhoarenotfalseandclingtoherwhoismosttrue。Oh,youwillwanderfar;Ireaditinyoureyesthatyouwillwanderfar,yetshallyourheartstayEnglish。Kissmeandbegone！Lad,areyouforgettingyoursparearrowsandthebull—hidejerkinthatwasyourfather's？Youwillwantthembothto—day。Farewell,farewell！GodandHisChristbewithyou——andshootyoustraightandsmiteyouhard。
　　Nay,notears,lestmyeyesshouldbedimmed,forI'llclimbtotheatticandwatchyoufight。"