with the rider, whom one or two of them had recognised as Tostig, the
spouse of Matilda's sister.

At length, side by side, still talking earnestly, they regained the
group; and William, summoning the Lord of Tancarville, bade him
conduct Tostig to Rouen, the towers of which rose through the forest
trees. "Rest and refresh thee, noble kinsman," said the Duke; "see
and talk with Matilda. I will join thee anon."

The Earl remounted his steed, and saluting the company with a wild and
hasty grace, soon vanished amidst the groves.

Then William, seating himself on the sward, mechanically unstrung his
bow, sighing oft, and oft frowning; and--without vouchsafing other
word to his lords than "No further sport to-day!" rose slowly, and
went alone through the thickest parts of the forest. But his faithful
Fitzosborne marked his gloom, and fondly followed him. The Duke
arrived at the borders of the Seine, where his galley waited him. He
entered, sat down on the bench, and took no notice of Fitzosborne, who
quietly stepped in after his lord, and placed himself on another
bench.

The little voyage to Rouen was performed in silence, and as soon as he
had gained his palace, without seeking either Tostig or Matilda, the
Duke turned into the vast hall, in which he was wont to hold council
with his barons; and walked to and fro "often," say the chronicles,
"changing posture and attitude, and oft loosening and tightening, and
drawing into knots, the strings of his mantle."

Fitzosborne, meanwhile, had sought the ex-Earl, who was closeted with