Here was a man that hid not his passion or his feeling—one that could hide naught. Afterwards the very force of mastery and passion left their impress on William's face, but when I first saw him there, in the full glory of a man's honour and strength, I gave him my boyhood's worship, for that I knew he was a king of men.
He was busy with his archers, and minded not our approach.
"Blind dolt!" he cried. "Such a flight would harm none! See here!" He drew the great wooden bow he carried right back to the breast, and the arrow sped sharp and clean from the twanging cord, and hit the mark plain in the middle with a mighty force. "Now—hard and straight!" he said, as the archer essayed his shot again. Then seeing us approach, "Vicomte, good morrow."
"My lord duke," said mine uncle, "with pain I disturb thee; but thou wilt agree that our matter would not wait."
"Then tell it quickly," said William.
"My lord of Bee sends forth my nephew with this letter," said the Vicomte.
"Then let him ope and read it."
With a great awe I read Lanfranc's sage words to the duke. Careless and moody he stood when I began with his high titles, but he let me read. But he awoke as he heard of the Sarrasin, and hot anger filled his face. I read on steady and slow till I came to the name of Maugher, and at that there was a very storm in his eyes.
"Give me the letter!" said he; and he snatched it, gazed an instant on it, and ground it the next moment into the sod with his iron heel.
He raged up and down in a passion, heedless of us and of his archers. Then he recovered himself.