"News--what news? Are they all burnt--slain--captives?"
"I know not; only the Dismal Swamp is a mass of flame, and all the reeds and flags are burning merrily; 'tis such a bonfire!"
"I believe the lad would clap his hands at a bonfire, if his own grandmother were burning therein as a witch. How dost thou know whether this is for us or against us?"
"How can I tell?" said the lad, more seriously.
"Perchance our people had not all crossed, and the English fired it to secure their own safety. But how could they have foreseen our expedition?"
His anxiety was not of long duration, for an object was seen emerging from the shadow of the woods, and making by the base of the little hill towards Aescendune.
"What cheer?" cried the old man, "hither!"
And as he spoke the stranger turned his head, hearing the familiar sounds, and ascended the hill slowly, and with pain.
He presented a dismal object; his hair and beard had been scorched in some intense fire, and his clothes blackened and burnt.
The two Normans, old man and boy, stood up aghast.