'"Overbold," said Hugh. "Hearken here," and he read: "Upon the Feast of St Agatha, our Lord of Pevensey, lying in his upper chamber, being clothed in his second fur gown reversed with rabbit——"
'"Pest on him! He is not my tire-woman!" said De Aquila, and Hugh and I laughed.
'"Reversed with rabbit, seeing a fog over the marshes, did wake Sir Richard Dalyngridge, his drunken cup-mate" (here they laughed at me) "and said, 'Peer out, old fox, for God is on the Duke of Normandy's side."'
'"So did I. It was a black fog. Robert could have landed ten thousand men, and we none the wiser. Does he tell how we were out all day riding the Marsh, and how I near perished in a quicksand, and coughed like a sick ewe for ten days after?" cried De Aquila.
'"No," said Hugh. "But here is the prayer of Gilbert himself to his master Fulke."
'"Ah," said De Aquila. "Well I knew it was Fulke. What is the price of my blood?"
'"Gilbert prayeth that when our Lord of Pevensey is stripped of his lands on this evidence which Gilbert hath, with fear and pains, collected——"
'"Fear and pains is a true word," said De Aquila, and sucked in his cheeks. "But how excellent a weapon is a pen! I must learn it."
'"He prays that Fulke will advance him from his present service to that honour in the Church which Fulke promised him. And lest Fulke should forget, he has written below, 'To be Sacristan of Battle'."