shouldst have been a king's thane, and not an outlaw!"

And he hurried off with the news to the Abbot.

When Hereward returned to his room, Martin was gone.

"Farewell, good men of Peterborough," said Hereward, as he leapt into the
saddle next morning. "I had made a vow against you, and came to try you;
to see whether you would force me to fulfil it or not. But you have been
so kind that I have half repented of it; and the evil shall not come in
the days of Abbot Leofric, nor of Brand the Prior, though it may come in
the days of Herluin the Steward, if he live long enough."

"What do you mean, you incarnate fiend, only fit to worship Thor and
Odin?" asked Brand.

"That I would burn Goldenborough, and Herluin the Steward within it, ere I
die. I fear I shall do it; I fear I must do it. Ten years ago come Lammas,
Herluin bade light the peat-stack under me. Do you recollect?"

"And so he did, the hound!" quoth Brand. "I had forgotten that."

"Little Hereward never forgets foe or friend. Ever since, on Lammas night,
--hold still, horse!--I dream of fire and flame, and of Goldenborough in
the glare of it. If it is written in the big book, happen it must; if not,
so much the better for Goldenborough, for it is a pretty place, and honest
Englishmen in it. Only see that there be not too many Frenchmen crept in
when I come back, beside our French friend Herluin; and see, too, that
there be not a peat-stack handy: a word is enough to wise men like you.
Good by!"