"I am a poor idiot, give me a halfpenny," said Martin, in a doleful voice,
as he threw into his face and whole figure a look of helpless stupidity
and awkwardness, which set them both laughing.

But Hereward checked himself. "And you think he was in earnest?"

"As sure as there are holy crows in Crowland. But it was of no use. Your
father got a parchment, with an outlandish Norman seal hanging to it, and
sent me off with it that same night to give to the lawman. So wolfs head
you are, my lord, and there is no use crying over spilt milk."

"And Harold spoke for me? It will be as well to tell Abbot Leofric that,
in case he be inclined to turn traitor, and refuse to open the gates. Once
outside them, I care not for mortal man."

"My poor boy, there will be many a one whom thou hast wronged only too
ready to lie in wait for thee, now thy life is in every man's hand. If the
outlawry is published, thou hadst best start to-night, and get past
Lincoln before morning."

"I shall stay quietly here, and get a good night's rest; and then ride out
to-morrow morning in the face of the whole shire. No, not a word! You
would not have me sneak away like a coward?"

Brand smiled and shrugged his shoulders: being very much of the same mind.

"At least, go north."

"And why north?"