"When you shall mount the throne, my Harold," Edith said proudly. "Oh, that this feud between Leofric's house and Godwin's were at an end. It bodes ill for England."
"It is natural," Harold said gently. "It is as gall and wormwood to the earls of Mercia to see the ascendancy of the West Saxons, and still more would it be so were I, Godwin's son, without a drop of royal blood in my veins, to come to be their king."
"The feud must be closed," Edith said firmly, though Wulf noticed that her face paled. "I have told you so before, Harold, and there is but one way."
"It shall never be closed in that way, Edith; rather would I lie in my grave."
"You have not to think of yourself, Harold, still less of me. It is of England you have to think—this England that will assuredly choose you as its king, and who will have a right to expect that you will make any or every sacrifice for its sake."
"Any but that," Harold said.
She smiled faintly and shook her head. Wulf did not understand the conversation, but there was a look of earnest resolve in her face that deeply impressed him. He had moved a short distance away, and now turned and looked out of the window, while they exchanged a few more words, having been, as he saw, altogether oblivious of his presence in the earnestness with which they both spoke.
For a week Harold remained at Hampton. Wulf saw that he was much troubled in his mind, and concluded that the messengers who came and went every day were the bearers of bad tidings. It was seldom that he was away from the side of Edith. When they were together she was always bright, but once or twice when Wulf found her alone her features bore an expression of deep sadness.
"We must ride for London, Wulf," Harold said one morning after reading a letter brought by a royal messenger. "The king has laid his orders on me to proceed at once to town, and indeed the news is well-nigh as bad as can be. The Gemot has voted the deposition of Tostig, has even had the insolence to declare him an outlaw, and has elected Morcar in his place. It has also issued decrees declaring all partisans of Tostig outlaws, and confiscating their estates. Two of Tostig's Danish housecarls were slain on the first day of their meeting. Two hundred of Tostig's personal followers have since been massacred; his treasury has been broken open, and all its contents carried off. The election of Morcar shows but too plainly the designs of the earls of Mercia. They wish to divide England into two portions, and to reign supreme north of the Wellan. This will give them full half of England, and would assuredly, even did we not oppose them now, lead to a terrible war. The more terrible as William of Normandy will be watching from across the channel, ready to take instant advantage of our dissensions. God avert a war like this. Every sacrifice must be made rather than that the men of the north and south of England should fly at each other's throats."
The earl scarcely spoke a word during the ride to London, but rode absorbed in his thoughts with a sad and anxious countenance.