opportunity to oblige the mourning crews.

Not long afterwards a solemn procession left the fleet, a coffin, draped
in solemn black, at its head, borne by strong carriers. As mourners
there followed a large deputation of stalwart Norsemen, seemingly
unarmed, and to all appearance lost in grief. With slow steps they
entered the gates and moved through the streets of the city, chanting
the death-song of the great Hasting, until the church was reached, and
they had advanced along its crowded aisle to the altar, where stood the
priests ready to officiate at the obsequies of the expired freebooter.

The coffin was set upon the floor, and the priests were about to break
into the solemn chant for the dead, when suddenly, to the surprise and
horror of the worshippers, the supposed corpse sprang to life, leaped up
sword in hand, and with a fierce and deadly blow struck the officiating
bishop to the heart. Instantly the seeming mourners, who had been chosen
from the best warriors of the fleet, flung aside their cloaks and
grasped their arms, and a carnival of death began in that crowded
church.

It was not slaughter, however, that Hasting wanted, but plunder. Rushing
from the church, the Norsemen assailed the city, looting with free hand,
and cutting down all who came in their way. No long time was needed by
the skilful freebooters for this task, and before the citizens could
recover from the mortal terror into which they had been thrown, the
pagan plunderers were off again for their ships, laden with spoil, and
taking with them as captives a throng of women and maidens, the most
beautiful they could find.

This daring affair had a barbarous sequel. A storm arising which