It was true. Little Alftruda had been clinging to him for five minutes past. He took the child up in his arms and kissed her with pure kisses, which for a moment softened his hard heart; then, setting her down, he turned to Martin.
“Yes, you have done it; I spied you. What will the old folks at home say to this?”
Martin Lightfoot shook his head, and drew out his knife.
“When the master kills the game, the knave can but skin it. We may sleep warm under this fur in many a cold night by sea and moor.”
“Nay,” said Hereward, laughing; “when the master kills the game he must first carry it home. Let us take him and set him up against the bower door there, to astonish the brave knights inside.” And stooping down, he attempted to lift the huge carcass; but in vain. At last, with Martin’s help, he got it fairly on his shoulders, and the two dragged their burden to the bower and dashed it against the door, shouting with all their might to those within to open it.
Windows, it must be remembered, were in those days so few and far between that the folks inside had remained quite unaware of what was going on without.
The door was opened cautiously enough; and out looked, to the shame of knighthood, be it said, two or three knights who had taken shelter in the bower with the ladies. Whatever they were going to say the ladies forestalled, for, rushing out across the prostrate bear, they overwhelmed Hereward with praises, thanks, and, after the straightforward custom of those days, with substantial kisses.
“You must be knighted at once,” cried they. “You have knighted yourself by that single blow.”
“A pity, then,” said one of the knights to the others, “that he had not given that accolade to himself, instead of to the bear.”
“Unless some means are found,” said another, “of taking down this boy’s conceit, life will soon be not worth having here.”
“Either he must take ship,” said a third, “and look for adventures elsewhere, or I must.”
Martin Lightfoot heard those words; and knowing that envy and hatred, like all other vices in those rough-hewn times, were apt to take very startling and unmistakeable shapes, kept his eye accordingly on those three knights.
“He must be knighted,--he shall be knighted, as soon as Sir Gilbert comes home,” said all the ladies in chorus.