"Or what?" asked the Duke, gnawing his lip.

"Or the Father race of Rou will be before thee! My horse paws
without. Farewell to thee, Norman; sharpen thy swords, hew out thy
vessels, and goad thy slow barons."

Scarce had Tostig departed, ere William began to repent that he had so
let him depart: but seeking counsel of Lanfranc, that wise minister
reassured him.

"Fear no rival, son and lord," said he. "The bones of the dead are on
thy side, and little thou knowest, as yet, how mighty their fleshless
arms! All Tostig can do is to distract the forces of Harold. Leave
him to work out his worst; nor then be in haste. Much hath yet to be
done--cloud must gather and fire must form, ere the bolt can be
launched. Send to Harold mildly, and gently remind him of oath and of
relics--of treaty and pledge. Put right on thy side, and then----"

"Ah, what then?"

"Rome shall curse the forsworn--Rome shall hallow thy banner; this be
no strife of force against force, but a war of religion; and thou
shalt have on thy side the conscience of man, and the arm of the
Church."

Meanwhile, Tostig embarked at Harfleur; but instead of sailing to the
northern coasts of England, he made for one of the Flemish ports: and
there, under various pretences, new manned the Norman vessels with
Flemings, Fins, and Northmen. His meditations during his voyage had
decided him not to trust to William; and he now bent his course, with