There was something in his look and the tone of his voice which
struck a hidden chord, and awoke recollections as if of a previous
existence.
"Redwald," as Edwy named him, was tall and dark, with many of the
characteristics of the Danish race about him. His nose was slightly
aquiline, his eyes hid beneath bushy eyebrows, while his massive jaw
denoted energy of character--energy which one instinctively felt was
quite as likely to be exerted for evil as for good.
He was captain of the hus-carles, and had but recently entered the royal
service. Few knew his lineage. He spoke the Anglo-Saxon tongue with
great fluency, and bore testimonials certifying his valour and
faithfulness from the court of Normandy, where the Northmen under Rollo
had some half-century earlier founded a flourishing state, then ruled
over by the noble Duke "Richard the Fearless."
Edwy seemed to be on intimate terms with this soldier of fortune; in
fact, with all his proud anticipation of his future greatness, he was
never haughty to his inferiors, perhaps we should say seldom, for we
shall hereafter note exceptions to this rule. It would be a great
mistake to suppose that the pomp and ceremony of our Norman kings was
shared by their English predecessors: the manners and customs of the
court of Edred were simplicity itself.
After a few moments of private conversation with Redwald, the boys
returned to their chamber to prepare for dinner.
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