The Northmen also set up their camp, in expectation of a battle, and
darkness had just closed in on them when a shout was heard on the
opposite side of the river, and to their surprise a voice was heard
speaking in their own language, "Brave warriors, why come ye hither, and
what do ye seek?"

"We are Northmen, come hither to conquer France," replied Rollo. "But
who art thou who speakest our tongue so well?"

"Heard ye never of Hasting?" was the reply.

Hasting was one of the most celebrated of the Sea-Kings. He had fought
with Alfred in England, had cruelly wasted France, and had even sailed
into the Mediterranean and made himself dreaded in Italy; but with him
it had been as with the old pirate in the poem:

"Time will rust the sharpest sword,
Time will consume the strongest cord;
That which moulders hemp and steel,
Mortal arm and nerve must feel.
Of the Danish band, whom 'Earl Hasting' led,
Many wax'd aged, and many were dead;
Himself found his armor full weighty to bear,
Wrinkled his brows grew, and hoary his hair;
He leaned on a staff when his step went abroad,
And patient his palfrey, when steed he bestrode.
As he grew feebler, his wildness ceased,
He made himself peace with prelate and priest;
He made himself peace, and stooping his head,
Patiently listen'd the counsel they said.