"Indeed, father," I replied, "I am not that I seem; no priest am I, though bred in Vale cloister in Guernsey."
"Then how darest thou," said he, hotly, "to come hither in this habit?"
"If thou but knewest the greatness of the perils of our brethren, how they are near being murdered by savage men, thou wouldst forgive me, father. But I bear a name none need fear to own—I am Nigel de Bessin, and mine uncle its vicomte, would vouch for me, were he here——"
"As indeed he is," put in a pleasant voice of a gentleman that in scarlet cloak sat by my lord's right hand. "And thou art my nephew?" said he, as I moved forward to do him courtesy.
When we were made known he bade me proceed, assuring me that all my wishes should be fulfilled.
"My lords," said I, "the good brothers of St. Michael of the Vale in Guernsey are besieged and shut in this four weeks, nay, stormed and murdered by a most pestilent villain and an innumerable horde of Moorish devils that are settled in the isle. Men call him Le Grand Sarrasin, and as ye have doubtless heard, he is a caitiff without mercy, that wars on women as on men, on monks and husbandmen. This is he that calls himself the Lord of the Norman seas, in clear treachery to our lord the duke, and so cunning he is that he hath watchmen and spies at every harbour, that he may establish himself more stoutly ere help come."
"And didst thou escape his hands?" said mine uncle, pondering, head upon hand.
"Nay; he caught me and shut me in the womb of the earth, but by God's grace I escaped him—but this matters not. Give me your good aid to the duke, that in all haste I may return with a great host to save the brethren."
"How old art thou, my son?" asked Lanfranc.
"Father, but sixteen years," said I, as though I feared they might smile at me.