"Read it, one of you, since all of you are scholars and my eyes are bad." Rosamund took it and read what was written, hurriedly but in a clerkly hand, and in the French tongue.

It ran thus: "The sword of a brave man.

Bury it with him if he be dead, and give it back to him if he lives, as I hope.

My master would wish me to do this honour to a gallant foe whom in that case he still may meet.
(Signed) Hugh Lozelle, or Another." "Another, then; not Hugh Lozelle," said Godwin, "since he cannot write, and if he could, would never pen words so knightly." "The words may be knightly, but the writer's deeds were base enough," replied Sir Andrew; "nor, in truth do I understand this scroll." "The interpreter spoke of the short man as his master," suggested Wulf.
"Ay, nephew; but him you met.

This writing speaks of a master whom Godwin may meet, and who would wish the writer to pay him a certain honour." "Perhaps he wrote thus to blind us." "Perchance, perchance.