pressed the hand that grasped his own, and said, "Rise; thus should
brother speak to brother." Then--for his wrath was only concealed,
not stifled, and yearned for its vent--his eye fell upon the delicate
and thoughtful face of the priest, who had watched this short and
stormy conference in profound silence, despite Taillefer's whispers to
him to interrupt the dispute. "So, priest," he said, "I remember me
that when Mauger before let loose his rebellious tongue thou didst
lend thy pedant learning to eke out his brainless treason. Methought
that I then banished thee my realm?"

"Not so, Count and Seigneur," answered the ecclesiastic, with a grave
but arch smile on his lip; "let me remind thee, that to speed me back
to my native land thou didst graciously send me a horse, halting on
three legs, and all lame on the fourth. Thus mounted, I met thee on
my road. I saluted thee; so did the beast, for his head well nigh
touched the ground. Whereon I did ask thee, in a Latin play of words,
to give me at least a quadruped, not a tripod, for my journey. [65]
Gracious, even in ire, and with relenting laugh, was thine answer. My
liege, thy words implied banishment--thy laughter pardon. So I
stayed."

Despite his wrath, William could scarce repress a smile; but
recollecting himself, he replied, more gravely, "Peace with this
levity, priest. Doubtless thou art the envoy from this scrupulous
Mauger, or some other of my gentle clergy; and thou comest, as
doubtless, with soft words and whining homilies. It is in vain. I
hold the Church in holy reverence; the pontiff knows it. But Matilda
of Flanders I have wooed; and Matilda of Flanders shall sit by my side
in the halls of Rouen, or on the deck of my war-ship, till it anchors
on a land worthy to yield a new domain to the son of the Sea-king."