“The Abbot,” said Hereward, “knows by hearing of his ears that I bid him bide at home, and try to govern lands in peace like his father and you, Sir Marquis.”
“Eh?”
The Abbot told honestly what had passed between Hereward and the lad, as they rode to St. Bertin.
Baldwin was silent, thinking, and smiling jollily, as was the wont of the Debonair.
“You are a man of sense, beausire. Come with me,” said he at last.
And he, Hereward, and Robert went into an inner room.
“Sit down on the settle by me.”
“It is too great an honor.”
“Nonsense, man! If I be who I am, I know enough of men to know that I need not be ashamed of having you as bench-fellow. Sit down.”
Hereward obeyed of course.