"Your purpose, my lord, if I understand you aright, is to defend the castle so long as you can, and then try to hold the Normans at bay by means of the shelter which the woods and the hills afford."

"That is my present purpose. I can scarcely hope to hold the castle, except for a little while, but I may thus materially check the desolating march of the Normans. But ultimately I look to the woods and the hills for permanent safety. We are more fortunate than our countrymen in other parts of the kingdom. If we look to the north we see the stately Hanging-brow mountain, lifting itself to the sky and girdled with the clouds, and those dense woods, which, like a vast army clambering up its sides, will fight for us in our onslaught, and shield us in our flight. The waters also shed on its brow by the clouds which nestle well-nigh perpetually on its shoulders, and go leaping down its sides with the fierceness of a cataract, have ploughed into the mountain's seamy sides gorges impassable to untrained feet. Look, to the east a few miles we have the scarcely less remarkable Weirdburn hills. To the south, Baldby heights. Think also of the dense woods which everywhere abound in this Craven of ours. Then, like myself, you will see that in no other part of the land has Nature so combined to shelter the friendless and protect the oppressed. Further, we are quite two hundred and fifty miles from London. Though the Normans will come very surely to despoil the land, William will speedily draw off his forces, and we shall have but to cope with the Norman who usurps my lands and castle, holding it probably with a slender garrison. For the present we are unequal to the task of contending in open warfare with our foe. We will contend with him with the most effective weapons we possess; and these are cunning and evasion. There shall be no solid front presented to him at which he can aim an effective blow. But when the Normans have overrun the land, and the bulk of them gone hence, then we will present a bolder front, and assert our right to share the land, and cultivate the soil."

"What do you purpose in this dire emergency, reverend Father?" said he, turning to me. "Have you any purpose of defending the Abbey?"

"No, my lord," said I; "we are the disciples of the Prince of Peace, and we must follow His example. And indeed, carnal weapons would not protect us if we were minded to use them, and this sacred edifice would suffer irreparably by our resistance. Perhaps these untamed and bloody men may have some regard for the sanctity of these walls. We will throw open our gates to receive them. Those of our servants and followers who prefer to trust to the woods and the hills, as you advise, are free to do so. Those who prefer to stay—together with any unhappy fugitives who have fled hither for shelter—will join the monks in prayers and supplications, in the sanctuary. Perhaps God will give us favour in the eyes of our enemies."

"Give us your blessing, Father," said Oswald, falling on his knees and meekly uncovering his head, all his followers humbly following his example.

"Adieu, my son," said I, laying my hand upon his head. "May the God of our fathers nerve thy arm for the protection of thy humbler fellows, and give thee wisdom and discretion in this terrible day of thy country's visitation!"

With tearful eyes I watched the receding form of this noble Saxon. No carnal offspring could be dearer to an earthly parent than he to me. I had watched over him from infancy, educated him, travelled with him in many foreign lands; and I hoped he would be a great leader in statesmanship, in learning, and in all the arts of peace. Now, alas! I fear circumstance will make him a man of war, and a stern leader of bloody and desperate men.


CHAPTER VI.

BARON VIGNEAU.