King's object was, to seize upon the Duke's
dominions. This the Duke, of course,
prepared to resist; and miserable war between
the two brothers seemed inevitable, when the
powerful nobles on both sides, who had seen
so much of war, interfered to prevent it. A
treaty was made. Each of the two brothers
agreed to give up something of his claims,
and that the longer-liver of the two should
inherit all the dominions of the other. When
they had come to this loving understanding,
they embraced and joined their forces against
Fine-Scholar, who had bought some territory
of Robert with a part of his five thousand
pounds, and was considered a dangerous
individual in consequence.

Saint Michael's Mount, in Cornwall, was
then, as it is now, a strong castle perched
upon the top of a high rock in Saint Michael's
Bay, round which rock, when the tide is in,
the sea flows, leaving no road to the mainland.
In this castle, Fine-Scholar shut himself up
with his soldiers, and here he was closely
besieged by his two brothers. At one time,
when he was reduced to great distress for
want of water, the generous Robert not only
permitted his men to get water, but sent
Fine-Scholar wine from his own table; and on
being remonstrated with by the Red King,
said, "What! shall we let our own brother
die of thirst? Where shall we get another,
when he is gone!" At another time, the
Red King riding alone on the shore of the
bay, looking up at the Castle, was taken by
two of Fine-Scholar's men, one of whom was
about to kill him, when he cried out, "Hold,
knave! I am the King of England!" The
story says that the soldier raised him from
the ground respectfully and humbly, and
that the King took him into his service.
The story may or may not be true; but at
any rate it is true that Fine-Scholar could
not hold out against his united brothers, and
that he abandoned Mount St. Michael, and
wandered about—as poor and forlorn as other
scholars have been sometimes known to be.

The Scotch became unquiet in the Red
King's time, and were twice defeated— the
second time, with the loss of their King,
Malcolm, and his son. The Welsh became
unquiet too. Against them, Rufus was less
successful, for they fought among their native
mountains, and did great execution on the
King's troops. Robert of Normandy became
unquiet too; and, complaining that his brother
the King did not faithfully perform his part
of their agreement, took up arms, and
obtained assistance from the King of France,
whom Rufus, in the end, bought off with vast
sums of money. England became unquiet
too. Lord Mowbray, the powerful Earl of
Northumberland, headed a great conspiracy
to depose the King, and to place upon the
throne, STEPHEN, the Conqueror's nephew.
The plot was discovered; all the chief
conspirators were seized; some were fined, some
were put in prison, some were put to death.
The Earl of Northumberland himself was
shut up in a dungeon beneath Windsor
Castle, where he died, an old man, thirty long
years afterwards. The Priests in England
were more unquiet than any other class or
power, for the Red King treated them with
such small ceremony that he refused to
appoint new bishops or archbishops when
the old ones died, but kept all the wealth
belonging to those offices, in his own hands.
In return for this, the Priests wrote his life
when, he was dead, and abused him soundly.
I am inclined to think, myself, that there was
little to choose between the Priests and the
Red King; that both sides were greedy and
designing; and that they were very fairly
matched.

The Red King was false of heart, selfish,
covetous, and mean. He had a worthy
minister in his favorite, Ralph, nicknamed
—for almost every famous person had a
nickname in those rough days— Flambard, or the
Firebrand. Once, the King being ill became
penitent, and made ANSELM, a foreign priest
and a good man, Archbishop of Canterbury.
But he no sooner got well again, than he
repented of his repentance, and persisted in
wrongfully keeping to himself some of the
wealth belonging to the archbishopric. This
led to violent disputes, which were aggravated
by there being in Rome at that time
two rival Popes, each of whom declared he
was the only real original infallible Pope,
who couldn't make a mistake. At last,
Anselm, knowing the Red King's character,
and not feeling himself safe in England, asked
leave to return abroad. The Red King gladly
gave it; for he knew that as soon as Anselm
was gone, he could begin to store up all the
Canterbury money again, for his own use.

By such means, and by taxing and
oppressing the English people in every possible
way, the Red King became very rich. When
he wanted money for any purpose, he raised
it by some means or other, and cared nothing
for the injustice he did or the misery he
caused. Having the opportunity of buying
from Robert the whole duchy of Normandy
for five years, he taxed the English people more
than ever, and made the very convents sell
their plate and valuables, to supply him with
the means to make the purchase. But he
was as quick and eager in putting down
revolt, as he was in raising money; for, a part
of the Norman people objecting—very
naturally, I think— to being sold in this way, he
headed an army against them with all the
speed and energy of his father. He was so
impatient, that he embarked for Normandy
in a great gale of wind, and when the sailors
told him it was dangerous to go to sea in such
angry weather, replied, "Hoist sail and
away! Did you ever hear of a king who was
drowned?"

You will wonder how it was that even the
careless Robert came to sell his dominions.
It happened thus. It had long been the