'Thanks, brave messenger,' said the king; 'by your speed you may have saved your country. We must set off without delay,' he said, turning to his guests; 'there is no more time for rest—who is ready to start for Sussex?'
'I—and I—and I,' said the nobles, hurrying to fetch their followers; and soon the hall was deserted.
In an hour's time the army was once more upon the march. The two earls, Edwin and Morcar, whose sister Harold had married, remained in the north, promising to collect their forces and to follow the king with all speed.
As Harold approached the south of England, he was joined by hundreds of men who had fled from the invaders, and were eager to avenge the destruction of their homesteads.
'The English,' reported Duke William's outposts to their master, 'rush onward through their pillaged country with the fury of madmen.'
'Let them come, and come soon!' was the duke's reply.
At Senlac, near the town of Hastings in Sussex, the English came in sight of their foes. The Normans lay encamped upon the plain, while Harold posted his army on a hill, with a little wood behind, and an old mossy apple-tree a little to one side.
Night came on, clear and cold; and the two armies lay in sight of one another's camp-fires, where they could hear the clinking of the armourer's hammers, and the rough voices of the men on the other side.
When all was ready, the Normans lay down quietly to sleep, and awoke in the morning refreshed and eager for the fray.
The English sat around their watch-fires, passing the horns of ale and mead from hand to hand, and singing glees and war-songs. Over all brooded the thought of the broken oath, and of the curse which had been pronounced against England; but they knew that the curse was unjust, and were resolved to fight to the last against the invader.