knights, they speedily accepted their lot, and for the most part grew
contented and happy enough. In their changed circumstances it was
pleasanter to ride by the side of their Norman husbands, surrounded by a
gay cavalcade, to hawk and to hunt, than to discharge the quiet duties
of mistress of a Saxon farmhouse. In many cases, of course, their lot
was rendered wretched by the violence and brutality of their lords; but
in the majority they were well satisfied with their lot, and these mixed
marriages did more to bring the peoples together and weld them in one
than all the laws and decrees of the Norman sovereigns.

This had certainly been the case with Editha, whose marriage with Sir
William had been one of the greatest happiness. She had lost him three
years before the story begins, fighting in Normandy, in one of the
innumerable wars in which our first Norman kings were constantly
involved. On entering the gates of Erstwood Cuthbert had rushed hastily
to the room where his mother was sitting, with three or four of her
maidens, engaged in work.

"I want to speak to you at once, mother," he said.

"What is it now, my son?" said his mother, who was still young and very
comely. Waving her hand to the girls they left her.

"Mother," he said, when they were alone, "I fear me that Sir Walter is
about to make a great raid upon the outlaws. Armed men have been coming
in all the morning from the castles round, and if it be not against the
Baron de Wortham that these preparations are intended, and methinks it
is not, it must needs be against the landless men."

"What would you do, Cuthbert?" his mother asked anxiously. "It will not