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Updated: October 9, 2025
The pass gradually opened on a wide patch of rugged and herbless waste; and Sexwolf, riding up to the knight, directed his attention to a stone, on which was inscribed the words, "Hic victor fuit Haroldus," Here Harold conquered. "In sight of a stone like that, no Walloon dare come," said the Saxon. "A simple and classical trophy," remarked the Norman, complacently, "and saith much.
But though the crafty knight did his best, during his progress from London into Wales, to extract from Sexwolf all such particulars respecting Harold and his brethren as he had reasons for wishing to learn, he found the stubborn sagacity or caution of the Saxon more than a match for him.
These orders given, he planted Sexwolf and most of his band to keep watch round the trenches; and shading his eye with his hand, and looking towards the moon, all waning and dimmed in the watchfires, he said, calmly, "Now patience fights for us. Ere the moon reaches yon hill-top, the troops of Aber and Caer-hen will be on the slopes of Penmaen, and cut off the retreat of the Walloons.
The Norman crossed himself, as if he had heard some signal impiety, and then said: "Thou lovest not Mother Church, worthy Sexwolf?" "I was brought up," replied the sturdy Saxon, "to work and sweat hard, and I love not the lazy who devour my substance, and say, 'the saints gave it them. Knowest thou not, Master Mallet, that one-third of all the lands of England is in the hands of the priests?"
"And now, worthy Sexwolf, thou shalt see if the Norman is the vaunter thou deemest him. Dieu nous aide! Notre Dame! Take the foe in the rear." But turning round, he perceived that Sexwolf had already led his men towards the standard, which showed them where stood the Earl, almost alone in his peril.
Sexwolf had a dog's instinct in all that related to his master; and he felt, though he scarce knew why, that the Norman cloaked some design upon Harold in all the cross- questionings so carelessly ventured.
The Norman crossed himself, as if he had heard some signal impiety, and then said: "Thou lovest not Mother Church, worthy Sexwolf?" "I was brought up," replied the sturdy Saxon, "to work and sweat hard, and I love not the lazy who devour my substance, and say, 'the saints gave it them. Knowest thou not, Master Mallet, that one-third of all the lands of England is in the hands of the priests?"
"Crave your grace," said the Saxon, "but I thought all ye outlanders were the same, rib and rib, sibbe and sibbe." "Thou wilt know better, one of these days. March on, master Sexwolf."
Pausing there in a narrow pass overhung with wild and desolate rocks, the knight deliberately summoned his squires, clad himself in his ring mail, and mounted his great destrier. "Thou dost wrong, Norman," said Sexwolf, "thou fatiguest thyself in vain heavy arms here are needless. I have fought in this country before: and as for thy steed, thou wilt soon have to forsake it, and march on foot."
The pass gradually opened on a wide patch of rugged and herbless waste; and Sexwolf, riding up to the knight, directed his attention to a stone, on which was inscribed the words, "Hic victor fuit Haroldus," Here Harold conquered. "In sight of a stone like that, no Walloon dare come," said the Saxon. "A simple and classical trophy," remarked the Norman, complacently, "and saith much.
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