"No."
They left him alone, but he knew he was watched, and could not escape, nor did he wish to; he was yielding to his destiny.
One hour of such mental anguish—the boast of chivalry, the pomp of power, the false glamour, all giving way to the conviction that the Englishmen were right, and their cause that of truth and justice, nay, of God!
At the end of the hour he rose to his feet and looked around. The men were seated at their repast. He approached them.
"Give me of your food."
They did so. Thorold's eyes sparkled with delight; he saw what it meant.
They waited for him to speak; but he satisfied hunger first, then he drank, and afterwards said calmly—
"Is there any oath of admission to your band?"
"Only to swear to be true to England and Englishmen till death, and to wage war against their oppressors, of whatsoever degree, with all your powers. So help you God."
Osric repeated the oath solemnly and distinctly.