land shall be forfeited," and he smiled like one planning great good
deeds.

'"And henceforward," said De Aquila, "I counsel thee to serve one
master--not two."

'"What?" said Fulke. "Can I work no more honest trading between the two
sides these troublous times?"

'"Serve Robert or the King--England or Normandy," said De Aquila. "I
care not which it is, but make thy choice here and now."

'"The King, then," said Fulke, "for I see he is better served than
Robert. Shall I swear it?"

'"No need," said De Aquila, and he laid his hand on the parchments which
Gilbert had written. "It shall be some part of my Gilbert's penance to
copy out the savoury tale of thy life, till we have made ten, twenty, an
hundred, maybe, copies. How many cattle, think you, would the Bishop of
Tours give for that tale? Or thy brother? Or the Monks of Blois?
Minstrels will turn it into songs which thy own Saxon serfs shall sing
behind their plough-stilts, and men-at-arms riding through thy Norman
towns. From here to Rome, Fulke, men will make very merry over that
tale, and how Fulke told it, hanging in a well, like a drowned puppy.
This shall be thy punishment, if ever I find thee double-dealing with
thy King any more. Meantime, the parchments stay here with thy son. Him
I will return to thee when thou hast made my peace with the King. The
parchments never."

'Fulke hid his face and groaned.