"It may be in the crypt below. I suppose the monks keep their relics there," said Osbiorn.

"No! Not there. Do not touch the relics! Would you have the curse of all the saints? Stay! I know an old hiding-place. It may be there. Up into the steeple with me."

And in a chamber in the steeple they found the golden pall, and treasures countless and wonderful.

"We had better keep the knowledge of this to ourselves awhile," said Earl Osbiorn, looking with greedy eyes on a heap of wealth such as he had never beheld before.

"Not we! Hereward is a man of his word, and we will share and share alike." And he turned and went down the narrow winding stair.

Earl Osbiorn gave one look at his turned back; an evil spirit of covetousness came over him; and he smote Hereward full and strong upon the hind-head.

The sword turned upon the magic helm, and the sparks flashed out bright and wide.

Earl Osbiorn shrunk back, appalled and trembling.

"Aha!" said Hereward without looking round. "I never thought there would be loose stones in the roof. Here! Up here, Vikings, Berserker, and sea-c.o.c.ks all! Here, Jutlanders, Jomsburgers, Letts, Finns, witches' sons and devils' sons all! Here!" cried he, while Osbiorn profited by that moment to thrust an especially brilliant jewel into his boot. "Here is gold, here is the dwarfs work! Come up and take your Polotaswarf! You would not get a richer out of the Kaiser's treasury. Here, wolves and ravens, eat gold, drink gold, roll in gold, and know that Hereward is a man of his word, and pays his soldiers' wages royally!"

They rushed up the narrow stair, trampling each other to death, and thrust Hereward and the Earl, choking, into a corner. The room was so full for a few moments, that some died in it. Hereward and Osbiorn, protected by their strong armor, forced their way to the narrow window, and breathed through it, looking out upon the sea of flame below.

"That was an unlucky blow," said Hereward, "that fell upon my head."

"Very unlucky. I saw it coming, but had no time to warn you. Why do you hold my wrist?"

"Men's daggers are apt to get loose at such times as these."

"What do you mean?" and Earl Osbiorn went from him, and into the now thinning press. Soon only a few remained, to search, by the glare of the flames, for what their fellows might have overlooked.

"Now the play is played out," said Hereward, "we may as well go down, and to our ships."

Some drunken ruffians would have burnt the church for mere mischief. But Osbiorn, as well as Hereward, stopped that. And gradually they got the men down to the ships; some drunk, some struggling under plunder; some cursing and quarrelling because nothing had fallen to their lot. It was a hideous scene; but one to which Hereward, as well as...o...b..orn, was too well accustomed to see aught in it save an hour's inevitable trouble in getting the men on board.

The monks had all fled. Only Leofwin the Long was left, and he lay sick in the infirmary. Whether he was burned therein, or saved by Hereward's men, is not told.

And so was the Golden Borough sacked and burnt. Now then, whither?

The Danes were to go to Ely and join the army there. Hereward would march on to Stamford; secure that town if he could; then to Huntingdon, to secure it likewise; and on to Ely afterwards.

"You will not leave me among these savages?" said Alftruda.

"Heaven forbid! You shall come with me as far as Stamford, and then I will set you on your way."

"My way?" said Alftruda, in a bitter and hopeless tone.

Hereward mounted her on a good horse, and rode beside her, looking--and he well knew it--a very perfect knight. Soon they began to talk. What had brought Alftruda to Peterborough, of all places on earth?

"A woman's fortune. Because I am rich,--and some say fair,--I am a puppet, and a slave, a prey. I was going back to my,--to Dolfin."

"Have you been away from him, then?"

"What! Do you not know?"

"How should I know, lady?"

"Yes, most true. How should Hereward know anything about Alftruda? But I will tell you. Maybe you may not care to hear?"

"About you? Anything. I have often longed to know how,--what you were doing."

"Is it possible? Is there one human being left on earth who cares to hear about Alftruda? Then listen. You know when Gospatrick fled to Scotland his sons went with him. Young Gospatrick, Waltheof, [Footnote: This Waltheof Gospatricksson must not be confounded with Waltheof Siwardsson, the young Earl. He became a wild border chieftain, then Baron of Atterdale, and then gave Atterdale to his sister Queen Ethelreda, and turned monk, and at last Abbot, of Crowland: crawling home, poor fellow, like many another, to die in peace in the sanctuary of the Danes.] and he,--Dolfin. Ethelreda, his girl, went too,--and she is to marry, they say, Duncan, Malcolm's eldest son by Ingebiorg. So Gospatrick will find himself, some day, father-in-law of the King of Scots."

"I will warrant him to find his nest well lined, wherever he be. But of yourself?"

"I refused to go. I could not face again that bleak black North.

Beside--but that is no concern of Hereward's--"

Hereward was on the point of saying, "Can anything concern you, and not be interesting to me?"

But she went on,--

"I refused, and--"

"And he misused you?" asked he, fiercely.

"Better if he had. Better if he had tied me to his stirrup, and scourged me along into Scotland, than have left me to new dangers and to old temptations."

"What temptations?"

Alftruda did not answer; but went on,--

"He told me, in his lofty Scots' fashion, that I was free to do what I list. That he had long since seen that I cared not for him; and that he would find many a fairer lady in his own land."

"There he lied. So you did not care for him? He is a n.o.ble knight."

"What is that to me? Women's hearts are not to be bought and sold with their bodies, as I was sold. Care for him? I care for no creature upon earth. Once I cared for Hereward, like a silly child. Now I care not even for him."

Hereward was sorry to hear that. Men are vainer than women, just as peac.o.c.ks are vainer than peahens; and Hereward was--alas for him!--a specially vain man. Of course, for him to fall in love with Alftruda would have been a shameful sin,--he would not have committed it for all the treasures of Constantinople; but it was a not unpleasant thought that Alftruda should fall in love with him. But he only said, tenderly and courteously,--

"Alas, poor lady!"

"Poor lady. Too true, that last. For whither am I going now? Back to that man once more."

"To Dolfin?"

"To my master, like a runaway slave. I went down south to Queen Matilda. I knew her well, and she was kind to me, as she is to all things that breathe. But now that Gospatrick is come into the king's grace again, and has bought the earldom of Northumbria, from Tweed to Tyne--"

"Bought the earldom?"

"That has he; and paid for it right heavily."

"Traitor and fool! He will not keep it seven years. The Frenchman will pick a quarrel with him, and cheat him out of earldom and money too."