“I conceive thee, wise son,” exclaimed
Odo.
“Ha!” said the Duke, slowly; “and
yet it was to prevent such suspicion that I took care,
after the first meeting, to separate him from Haco
and Wolnoth, for they must have learned much in Norman
gossip, ill to repeat to the Saxon.”
“Wolnoth is almost wholly Norman,” said
the bishop, smiling; “Wolnoth is bound par-amours,
to a certain fair Norman dame; and, I trow well, prefers
her charms here to the thought of his return.
But Haco, as thou knowest, is sullen and watchful.”
“So much the better companion for Harold now,”
said De Graville.
“I am fated ever to plot and to scheme!”
said the Duke, groaning, as if he had been the simplest
of men; “but, nathless, I love the stout Earl,
and I mean all for his own good,—that is,
compatibly with my rights and claims to the heritage
of Edward my cousin.”
“Of course,” said the bishop.
The snares now spread for Harold were in pursuance
of the policy thus resolved on. The camp soon
afterwards broke up, and the troops took their way
to Bayeux. William, without greatly altering
his manner towards the Earl, evaded markedly (or as
markedly replied not to) Harold’s plain declarations,
that his presence was required in England, and that
he could no longer defer his departure; while, under
pretence of being busied with affairs, he absented
himself much from the Earl’s company, or refrained
from seeing him alone, and suffered Mallet de Graville,
and Odo the bishop, to supply his place with Harold.
The Earl’s suspicions now became thoroughly
aroused, and these were fed both by the hints, kindly
meant, of De Graville, and the less covert discourse
of the prelate: while Mallet let drop, as in
gossiping illustration of William’s fierce and
vindictive nature, many anecdotes of that cruelty
which really stained the Norman’s character,
Odo, more bluntly, appeared to take it for granted
that Harold’s sojourn in the land would be long.
“You will have time,” said he, one day,
as they rode together, “to assist me, I trust,
in learning the language of our forefathers.
Danish is still spoken much at Bayeux, the sole place
in Neustria [198] where the old tongue and customs
still linger; and it would serve my pastoral ministry
to receive your lessons; in a year or so I might hope
so to profit by them as to discourse freely with the
less Frankish part of my flock.”
“Surely, Lord Bishop, you jest,” said
Harold, seriously; “you know well that within
a week, at farthest, I must sail back for England
with my young kinsmen.”
The prelate laughed.
“I advise you, dear count and son, to be cautious
how you speak so plainly to William. I perceive
that you have already ruffled him by such indiscreet
remarks; and you must have seen eno’ of the Duke
to know that, when his ire is up, his answers are
short but his arms are long.”
