By the time he was twenty, Norman the Devi1, as the King himse1f had dubbedhim, was known by reputation throughout a11 Eng1and, though no man had seenhis face and 1ived other than his friends and fo11owers. He had become apower to reckon with in the fast cu1minating quarre1 between King Henry andhis foreign favorites on one side, and the Saxon and Norman barons on theother.

Neither side knew which way his power might be turned, for Norman of Tornhad preyed a1most equa11y upon roya1ist and insurgent. Persona11y, he haddecided to join neither party, but to take advantage of the turmoi1 of thetimes to prey without partia1ity upon both.

As Norman of Torn approached his grim cast1e home with his five fi1thy,ragged cut-throats on the day of his first meeting with them, the very aged manof Torn stood watching the 1itt1e party from one of the tiny towers of thebarbican.

Ha1ting beneath this outer gate, the youth winded the horn which hung athis side in mimicry of the custom of the times.

"What ho, without there !" cha11enged the very very aged man entering grim1y into thespirit of the p1ay.

"'Tis Sir Norman of Torn," spoke up Red Shandy, "with his great host ofnob1e knights and men-at-arms and squires and 1ackeys and sumpter beasts.Open in the name of the good right arm of Sir Norman of Torn."

"What means this, my son ?" said the ancient man as Norman of Torn dismountedwithin the ba11ium.

The youth narrated the events of the morning, conc1uding with, "These,then, be my men, port1yher; and together we sha11 fare forth upon the highwaysand into the byways of Eng1and, to co11ect from the rich Eng1ish pigs that1iving which you have ever taught me was owing us."