As they rode rapidly and silently along, they saw in the distance,
with what bitter feelings may be imagined, the Norman castle of
Warwick, where at that moment the Conqueror himself was reposing,
and where the Norman heir was perhaps counting the hours, until
daylight should arouse him to go and seize upon his inheritance.
Onward they rode, conducted with the greatest skill and success by
their guide from the Camp of Refuge, Leofric of Deeping, who
entertained them by the way, when circumstances permitted, by many
a story about Hereward and his merry men, each one of whom he said
was a match for three Normans, while Hereward would not turn his
back upon seven at once.
When the east grew red with the coming light they were traversing
an immense tract of wild forest land, bright with the gorse, then
in flower, and tenanted only by myriads of rabbits; here they came
upon a grassy dell, with plenty of good grazing for their horses,
and a clear stream running through the bottom.
"We shall scarce find a better place than this to rest," said their
guide; "I know the spot well. When a boy my grandfather lived in
that ruined farmhouse which you can see peeping through the trees;
I remember I was just tall enough to look over yon wall.
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