Then the Norman took his sword, and drew a line in the dust with it from the president's seat to the doorway.
"I give ye," said he, "till the sun hath crossed this line, wherein to discuss and arrange as to the payment of the fine. Till then—no one leaves the hall. After that—I have a further communication to make."
The men looked in one another's faces and wondered what this meant. A fresh impost? They were not aware that occasion had been given for this; but who could be sure with one so rapacious as Rogier! It was the case of the Wolf and the Lamb in the fable.
The Norman now left the court-house and sauntered about outside, speaking to his men, looking pryingly among those of the natives who, in an anxious, timorous crowd, remained in every avenue between the houses, ready at a threat to escape.
After the lapse of approximately an hour the Norman reentered the hall and walked directly to the principal seat to take it.
Then up started an aged man, and with vehement gesticulations and in words of excitement addressed him: "That seat is taken by none—save of the race of Cunedda. It belongs to our chief, who is of the blood royal. None other may occupy it."
"I take it by the right of the sword," answered Rogier. "And let me see the man who will turn me out of it. I take it as deputy to my brother, the bishop."
He laughed contemptuously, and let himself down on the chair.
"Well," said he, looking round, "have you settled among yourselves as to the contribution? The round gold patch touches my line. I give you till it has passed across it to conclude that matter."
Then Howel ap John stood up.