"Assuredly," said De Aquila. "Fulke's man took the first part that
evening when Gilbert fed him, and our King is so beset by his brother
and his Barons (small blame, too!) that he is mad with mistrust. Fulke
has his ear, and pours poison into it. Presently the King gives him my
land and yours. This is old," and he leaned back and yawned.

'"And thou wilt surrender Pevensey without word or blow?" said Hugh. "We
Saxons will fight your King then. I will go warn my nephew at
Dallington. Give me a horse!"

'"Give thee a toy and a rattle," said De Aquila. "Put back the
parchment, and rake over the ashes. If Fulke is given my Pevensey, which
is England's gate, what will he do with it? He is Norman at heart, and
his heart is in Normandy, where he can kill peasants at his pleasure. He
will open England's gate to our sleepy Robert, as Odo and Mortain tried
to do, and then there will be another landing and another Santlache.
Therefore I cannot give up Pevensey."

'"Good," said we two.

'"Ah, but wait! If my King be made, on Gilbert's evidence, to mistrust
me, he will send his men against me here, and while we fight, England's
gate is left unguarded. Who will be the first to come through thereby?
Even Robert of Normandy. Therefore I cannot fight my King." He nursed
his sword--thus.

'"This is saying and unsaying like a Norman," said Hugh. "What of our
Manors?"