The Vala stood rigid as a shape of stone while Harold thus spoke; and her voice came so low and strange as if forced from her scarce-moving lips:
"Thou shalt return unscathed."
"Shall the hostages of Godwin, my father, be released"
"The hostages of Godwin shall be released," answered the same voice; "the hostages of Harold be retained."
"Wherefore hostage from me?"
"In pledge of alliance with the Norman."
"Ha! then the Norman and Harold shall plight friendship and troth?"
"Yes!" answered the Vala; but this time a visible shudder passed over her rigid form.
"Two questions more, and I have done. The Norman priests have the ear of the Roman Pontiff. Shall my league with William the Norman avail to win me my bride?"
"It will win thee the bride thou wouldst never have wedded but for thy league with William the Norman. Peace with thy questions, peace!" continued the voice, trembling as with some fearful struggle; "for it is the demon that forces my words, and they wither my soul to speak them."