So I went, with a sore heart, for I remembered that when my father and
brothers were drowned, although I was then but a little one, my mother
had foreseen it, and I feared much lest it might be thus in her own case
also. I loved my mother. She was a stern woman, it was true, with little
softness about her, which I think came with her blood, but she had a
high heart, and oh! her last words were noble. Yet through it all I
was pleased, as any young man would have been, with the gift of the
wonderful sword which once had been that of Thorgrimmer, the sea-rover,
whose blood ran in my body against which it lay, and I hoped that
this day I might have chance to use it worthily as Thorgrimmer did in
forgotten battles. Having imagination, I wondered also whether the sword
knew that after its long sleep it had come forth again to drink the
blood of foes.

Also I was pleased with another thing, namely, that my mother had
told me that I should live my life and not die that day by the hand
of Frenchmen; and that in my life I should find love, of which to tell
truth already I knew a little of a humble sort, for I was a comely
youth, and women did not run away from me, or if they did, soon they
stopped. I wanted to live my life, I wanted to see great adventures and
to win great love. The only part of the business which was not to my
taste was that command of my mother's, that I should go to London to sit
in a goldsmith's shop. Still, I had heard that there was much to be seen
in London, and at least it would be different from Hastings.

The street outside our doors was crowded with folk, some of the men
making their way to the market-place, about whom hung women and children
weeping; others, old people, wives and girls and little ones fleeing
from the town. I found the two sailormen who had been with me on the
boat, waiting for me. They were brawny fellows named Jack Grieves and