the castle, where all his tenants and retainers were compelled to
grind their corn. It commanded a beautiful view of sea and land; a
hostelry stood near the summit, it was called the Cross in Hand,
for it was once the rendezvous of the would-be crusaders, who, from
various parts of the Weald, took the sacred badge, and started for
the distant East via Winchelsea or Pevensey.

In the deep dark wood were many settlements and clearings; Walderne
was perhaps the wildest, as its name implies; around lay
Chiddinglye, once the abode of the Saxon offspring of Chad or Chid;
Hellinglye (Ella-inga-leah), the home of the sons of Ella, of whom
we have written before; Heathfield and Framfield on opposite sides,
open heaths in the wood, covered with heather and sparsely peopled;
Mayfield to the north, once the abode of the great Saint Dunstan,
and the scene of his conflicts with Satan; Hothly to the south,
where, at the date of our tale, lived the Hodleghs, an Anglo-Norman
brood.

The Lord of Walderne was Ralph, son of Sybilla de Dene (West Dean)
and Robert of Icklesham (near Winchelsea). He was blessed, or
cursed, as the case might be, with three children; Roger, Sybil,
and Mabel.

The old man came of a stern fighting stock: what wonder that his
son inherited his character in this respect. He was a wilful yet
affectionate lad of strong passions, one who might be led but never
driven: unfortunately his father did not read his character aright,
and at length a crisis arose.

Roger wooed the daughter of the neighbouring Lord of Hothly, but