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Updated: June 4, 2025
A sharp, unlovely face it was: though, like many a great churchman's face of those days, it was neither thin nor haggard; but rather round, sleek, of a puffy and unwholesome paleness. But there was a thin lip above a broad square jaw, which showed that Herluin was neither fool nor coward.
Bernard advised the King of France not to bring Herluin de Montreuil to this meeting, since the Normans considered him as the occasion of their duke's death; but the French replied that no Dane should hinder their king from taking with him whomsoever he pleased.
But Herluin burst himself clear of the frantic mob of monks, and turned back on Hereward. "Thou wast dubbed knight in that church!" "I know it, man; and that church and the relics of the saints in it are safe, therefore. Hereward gives his word." "That, but not that only, if thou art a true knight, as thou holdest, Englishman." Hereward growled savagely, and made an ugly step toward Herluin.
Therefore make me not proud, Uncle Brand, but keep me modest and lowly, as befits all true knights and penitent sinners; for they tell me that God resists the proud, and giveth grace to the humble. And I have that to do which do I cannot, unless God and his saints give me grace from this day forth." Brand looked at him, astonished; and then turned to Herluin. "Did I not tell thee, prior?
It is worth fifty times the sixteen pence which I stole, and which I repaid double. Let St. Peter take it, for the sins of me and my two comrades, and forgive. And now, Sir Prior, I do to thee what I never did for mortal man. I kneel, and ask thy forgiveness. Kneel, Winter! Kneel, Gwenoch!" And Hereward knelt. Herluin was of double mind. He longed to keep Hereward out of St. Peter's grace.
'Ha, ye Normans are fallen sons of Odin, to see him yet live!" "You said, I trust, my son, that we follow not the laws of Odin?" said Fru Astrida. "I had no space for a word, grandmother; the Danes took the vengeance on themselves. In one moment they rushed on Herluin with their axes, and the unhappy man was dead. All was tumult; every one struck without knowing at whom, or for what.
The shout which they gave, as they leaped on shore, made the hearts of the poor monks sink low. Would they be murdered, as well as robbed? Perhaps not, probably not. Hereward would see to that. And some wanted to capitulate. Herluin would not hear of it. They were safe enough. St. Peter's relic might not have worked a miracle on the spot; but it must have done something. St.
In the midst of the great court were all the monks, huddled together like a flock of sheep, some kneeling, most weeping bitterly, after the fashion of monks. Only Herluin stood in front of them, at bay, a lofty crucifix in his hand. He had no mind to weep. But with a face of calm and bitter wrath, he preferred words of peace and entreaty. They were what the time needed.
On a journey to Rouen he was robbed and left bound in a wood, where some peasants found him, and brought him for shelter to the Abbey of Bec, recently founded by Herluin.
Hereward saw it, and shouting, "After me, Hereward's men! a bear! a bear!" swung Letts and Finns right and left like corn-sheaves, and stood face to face with Herluin. An angry Finn smote him on the hind-head full with a stone axe. He staggered, and then looked round and laughed. "Fool! hast thou not heard that Hereward's armor was forged by dwarfs in the mountain-bowels?
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