The Last of the Vikings Part 11

"I neither care for her smiles nor her tears. I have got the hook in her gills and I'll land her in my own fas.h.i.+on, and she may struggle and flounder as she will. I can bring her ladys.h.i.+p or her precious sire to their knees as I like. You shall see presently. But come along, bring half a dozen of your men with you; we'll have Samson up now."

So away they hastened to the cells to fetch their prisoner.

"Jeannette," said Alice, "I am ready to faint! Do you think the Saxon has escaped? I fear he could never scale that horrid wall; and if he be but hiding on the roof or in the cells he will be surely caught."

"If I could push these huge stones upon the Baron's head I would do it freely," said Jeannette.

Just at that moment a wild shout came pealing up the stair.

"Oh, Jeannette," said Alice, "let me sit down! They have found him, I fear! This is sickening!"

Just at that moment a soldier was seen to dash from the door of the castle and fly across the enclosure and through the gate. This was the sentinel who had taken Paul Lazaire's place; and who, as soon as he found the prisoner gone had himself fled for life and was seen no more.

Speedily a hue and cry was raised. The castle was searched within and without with the utmost minuteness. Vigneau's violence and rage were fearful, and his demeanour that of a wild beast baulked of his prey.

It is needless to say that I was well-nigh overjoyed when Badger brought me the wonderful news of Oswald's deliverance. I gave G.o.d praise, for truly it was little less than a miracle.

Badger, by some means or other, seemed to be constantly in possession of all information as regarded the movements of the Normans as well as the Saxons. Truly, he seemed ever on the alert. By night he was constantly in conference with the outlaws. Marvellously, also, he gained the goodwill of the Normans, and he became a repository of all their secrets.

Unfortunately for us, Vigneau and his men quartered themselves at the abbey; and, fearful for Ethel's safety, I made Badger the bearer of the following letter to Oswald, who had, I was pleased to hear, found a retreat which promised some prospect of immunity from molestation; and, as I said, I had become most nervously anxious for the welfare of Ethel now that Vigneau had taken up his abode so near to her retreat.

"To the most n.o.ble and valiant Ealdorman Oswald, greeting.--Having been a.s.sured by yourself that you purpose devoting your great wisdom and undoubted valour to the most worthy cause of protecting and succouring your unfortunate and distressed countrymen, in these most perilous times, I would fain bring to your notice that most evil times have befallen the house of your late neighbour, the Thane Beowulf, in that his lands, like your own, have become forfeit. But, what is even more distressing, he, along with his son, has been slain whilst endeavouring to prevent the spoliation of their possessions by the Normans. His lovely and accomplished daughter Ethel had fled to these cloisters for safety; but inasmuch as this most holy sanctuary is involved in the general ruin, being seized by violent hands, and remains at this present in possession and under the control of beings who are little better than fiends--men who have no regard for sacred things, and who in their cruelty and l.u.s.t spare neither age nor s.e.x--violent hands have been laid upon Ethel, but happily she hath been delivered out of their hands as a 'bird from the fowler,' by the combined address and valour of the bearer of this message. Unfortunately there is no place of safety for her, for the remnant of her father's housecarles and fiefs are a scattered band, and outlaws. She hath for the present, however, found a temporary place of shelter in the dwelling of one of her father's rangers, who hath a rude abode in 'Hooded Crow's Gyll.' But this is at best a precarious refuge, for, as soon as the Normans muster courage to explore the forest, she will inevitably fall into their hands again. If thou canst befriend this orphaned one, the G.o.d of the friendless and distressed bless thee! If thou canst offer her a more secure shelter, the bearer of this missive--whom doubtless thou wilt know--may be safely trusted to guide thee to the herdsman's hut. Most sorrowfully I salute thee.

"Adhelm, Abbot, "Monastery of ----. [symbol: cross]

This epistle duly reached Oswald, who, as I surmised, lost no time in setting about a rescue. Calling Wulfhere, three horses were quickly saddled--one for Oswald, one for Wulfhere, and one for Badger, who was to act as guide.

"Lead the way," said the Earl; "and keep by the hills as far as possible, for the Normans as yet have had no time to spare from their eating, drinking, and plundering, to explore the hill country, and, I doubt not, we shall go unmolested."

With these directions, the three hors.e.m.e.n started off, keeping to the hills, where their vision could sweep the valleys and lowlands with so much accuracy that it would have been impossible for an enemy to come at any time within a couple of miles of steep climbing without being perceived. A little more than an hour's ride brought them to the point from whence they must strike the forest and lowlands. They paused for a minute or two, calmly surveying the hillsides, and minutely scrutinising every object which had any indefiniteness or uncertainty about it. But the curlews swept the long circle of the hills, uttering their plaintive cries, and the hawks glided over the tops of the trees, or darted in and out amongst them to start their prey into the open, or, on poised wing, they rested motionless in the air, scanning with keen vision the ground beneath them, and ready to pounce like a flash upon any luckless mouse or tiny rabbit that had ventured on an excursion from its hole.

"The presence of man--or, at least, of men--is not here," said Oswald, "or these shy denizens of the solitudes of Nature would betray it by their unrest. Lead on, Badger; we shall not be molested, I trust."

So Badger struck out for the lowlands at a rapid pace, presently plunging into the head of the wood which ran up the valley some half-mile beyond the unbroken forest. In the bottom of this valley or gorge, a water-course was speeding away from the hills, occasionally leaping over falls of several yards. But, amongst the unsolvable mysteries of Nature, trout in goodly numbers had penetrated beyond them, and in every pool or temporary resting-place of the waters, these enterprising denizens of the flood abounded. The three followed a rough path by this water-course for a considerable distance, until it merged in the well-nigh interminable forest.

Suddenly Badger diverged from the path, and, dismounting, led his horse through the thicket, putting aside the branches as he pa.s.sed. Presently a rude dwelling became visible, with a little clearing around it. This was the spot where the herdsman, or, more properly speaking, the ranger, dwelt. It was a rough and primitive sort of building, made of wood.

Stout oak limbs, deeply inserted into the ground, and from which the bark had been removed, formed the main supports, whilst the arched roof and inters.p.a.ces of the sides were interlaced in most fantastic shapes by smaller branches of the oak, all carefully peeled. Upon this framework of oaken branches the roof and sides were dexterously thatched by heather from the neighbouring moor, and over all a rude daubing of mud and lime mixed; the whole making a rude, but, nevertheless, a warm and dry abode. Around the entrance there was a few yards paved with smooth limestone pebbles gathered from the neighbouring brook. Amid these were interspersed most fantastically the knuckle-bones of deer, sheep, wolves, and other animals. Grotesque and whimsical all this seemed, but it jumped with the fancy of the architect, who was literally a child of the forest. Badger, as he drew nigh, heard hasty scuffling of feet and barricading of the door. But when he gave a knock all was as still as death in a moment.

"Hillo, within there!" shouted Badger. "There is nothing but good Saxons here."

The ranger's wife recognised at once the voice of Badger, and undid the door; and the three entered, leaving their horses standing together.

Ethel, meanwhile, was listening within in great trepidation, but when she discovered that their unexpected visitants were Saxon, she emerged from an inner room. As her eyes rested upon Oswald, who had removed his helmet, the burning blushes mounted in a deep crimson glow to her face and neck, and she cast an anxiously nervous look at her disarranged toilette.

"Ah!" said Oswald, taking her hand and raising it to his lips, "is this the sweet little Ethel who used to watch us rough boys play at the joust, and fence with our broadswords?--whom we used to accompany through the Bruneswald on her hawking expeditions? Why, how you have grown, too! To be sure, these terrible times have left no opportunities for neighbourly amenities. Why, 'tis three years since I last set eyes upon you. Ah, I know 'tis very sad," said he, as he saw the tears start into her eyes; "but dry those eyes, timid one, we will endeavour to find a covert where you may hide; and we will put about it a girdle of steel, and woe shall be to the Norman who obtrudes his hated presence near."

But these gentle words only seemed to open the floodgates still wider, and the frail frame of the fair girl quivered with emotion. Recently she had pa.s.sed through sufferings, privations, terrors innumerable; but as she looked upon the mailed warrior before her, it seemed as though a very tower of refuge had been found. The most casual observer would have been powerfully impressed by the striking contrast in these two human beings--Ethel, with her fair complexion, deep blue eyes, and rich tresses of fair hair falling with unkempt gracefulness over her shoulders, being a picture of maidenly grace, and an ideal high-born Saxon maiden; whilst the Earl's tall, muscular frame, well-shapen head, and curly locks, seemed like a modern Hercules made for the times, and equipped by Nature to play a conspicuous part in a troublous epoch,--times, in which personal prowess, dauntless courage, and a commanding presence were essential qualities in one who aspired to be a leader of men.

We can scarcely wonder that there should be a touch of more than wonted gentleness in the tone of his voice, as he spoke to this fair and sorrowing maiden.

"We heard of your misfortunes, fair one," said Oswald, "and we have come to offer you such succour as a dispossessed Saxon can still offer. I fear me it will be but a rude shelter for so gentle a guest. It may be precarious, and subject to alarms, too; but I warrant it shall have a measure of safety, if you will accept of it."

"Thank you, my lord. Alas! that is all that I have to offer for your great kindness. I will gladly accept your offer, and I will try not to be altogether a burden to you."

"Now, my worthy dame," said Oswald, addressing the ranger's wife, "you have done a good deed in sheltering this lady."

"We have but done our duty. She is our lawful mistress. We have fed on her father's bounty, and enjoyed his protection, and the sorrow is to see her brought to this pa.s.s."

"Where is thy husband?"

"He is adown the Gyll on the watch."

"Canst thou call him?"

"Presently, my lord, if you wish to see him."

"Yes, let us see his face. We may be able to befriend him, and he us."

The woman reached from the side of the dwelling a small whistle, made from a branch of the plaintain tree, and, going to the door, she blew a low and peculiar note, then listened for a second; but there was no response. Then a little louder she blew the same note. Immediately there came trembling through the wood a response.

"He will be here soon," said the woman, coming back to the dwelling.

Presently, the ranger pressed through the bushes into the enclosure; in one hand a dish of fine trout dangled on a string, and in the other hand a pheasant. But there was no mark of surprise on Bretwul's countenance as he beheld his visitors.

"How now, friend. Thou art not alarmed, I see," said Oswald.

"No; I have one eye for the hills, and another for the dales, and I know a Saxon any gait, and my old comrade Badger in any guise."

"So thou hast busied thyself in securing these dainties for thy mistress, I presume?"

"Yes, I have sent one of my trusty shafts after this dainty bird, and I have poked under a few stones in the brook for these trout. Here," said he, throwing his quiver on the floor, "are a score of cloth-yard shafts, and every one a trusty friend, and never fails. I have taken great pains in the rearing of them. I have tried them all at a mark, and I have all their peculiarities logged up in my brain-pan. I have taken the swerve out of them, as nearly as I can, by paring their heads, and twisting their tails; but they have all a mind of their own at the finish. But I know their minds as well as they know themselves, and I can allow, to a shadow, what they require and I can shoot a Norman's eye out at fourscore paces with any of them. Look, also; all these heads have been made by Sweyn, the Sheffield armourer; all of them forked ye see, and make a dainty little slit between a Norman's ribs as they enter; but gramercy! getting them out, there's the rub! I have been watching for many a day down the Gyll, for the Normans have been getting bold, ransacking the forest in quest of Saxon refugees. A slice of luck, and a crumb of comfort, has fallen to me this morning."

"Oh! Hast thou had some of them within reach of thy cloth-yard shafts, then, this morning?"

"Marry, that I have! and I have tickled one or two of them with a long stick; but they didn't laugh, mark you."

"Oh, then, we'll have thy story, Bretwul, for we are all anxious to hear how they like messages from our woodsmen."

"Well, it came about thus. There is a little path from the valley leads up to our cot. 'Twas worn, before these dogs came, be a.s.sured, for we shall make no further tracks, yet awhile. As I was out this morning, on the rough side of my cottage--that is, the side turned to the foe--and on the look-out for them, three or four of these Normans had come across the track, and, of course, they naturally thought there would be something at the end on't. Well, there was something in the middle that satisfied them. No sooner did I see them coming, than I says to myself, 'Come on, my bucks! I've got something warm for you, and you can have it for nothing but love.' I planted myself in the bush not forty paces away, and I selected my choicest shaft. This is him," said he, pulling one out of the quiver, still red with blood. "I'd trust my life on this shaft, master, for he never fails. Well; on they came, and I gave him all the strength of my arm, and plump in the throat my arrow struck the foremost Norman, and he dropped in the path. Gramercy! His fellows didn't even stop to say to him, 'Are you much hurt?' or even to inquire if there was any more of the same sort about; but they turned tail, master, if you believe me, and they ran--why, Badger here couldn't have overhauled them, and he's the nimblest fellow in these parts. Well, I says to myself, 'I should not like you to go empty away, any of you, if I can help it.' So I lodged another of my shafts pretty securely, I warrant, in the b.u.t.tocks of the last one, and the fellow never halted for a moment to inquire what it was, but he carried off my shaft. I suppose they will be busy now inviting it to come out; but, depend upon it, it will hold its own as closely as any Norman could stick to a Saxon's goods. I've lost a good shaft over him, but it will tickle him for many a day yet; and he'll want n.o.body to scratch the place, either.

There, marry! it's bad manners to stand prating before my betters, but a bit of news of this sort I like, either to hear or tell it."

"It is news good either to hear or tell," said Oswald, "and we shall be glad to hear more of thy stories when thou hast any as good as this. But prithee, my good fellow, what is this bundle of shafts in the corner?"

"These, master, are my youngsters, and they haven't quite finished their schooling. They are trusty shafts enough when you come to close quarters, but, like an unbroken colt, a trifle skittish when accurate work has to be done. I'll make them steady goers by-and-bye. Wife haven't you a drink of mead or a bite of anything for our guests? This is Oswald, our only chieftain in these parts. Don't you remember his coming to the hall and playing joust and broadsword with Master Beowulf?

A stout rogue he was, too, in those days. This is Wulfhere, Folkfree and Sacless (lawful freeman); Badger, too, a merry fellow--like myself, though, thrall and bondman, but as trusty a knave, I trow, as breathes."

"I like thy mettle, Bretwul, if such be thy name; but what dost thou purpose to do? Wilt thou stay here and take thy luck single-handed, or dost thou intend to make terms with the Normans, and accept such mercies as they may bestow?"

"'Down with the Normans,' is the Saxon's good word now, and it has been mine from the first. The Bruneswald, and the company of the merry outlaws who range it, would suit me best; but hopping about in the woods, like a squirrel from tree to tree, does not suit the womenfolk and my toddlers. But s.h.i.+ft I must now; after to-day's business there will be no staying here. I left yon fellow across the path as a sort of warning to trespa.s.sers, but it won't act long, for the Normans will come again in larger numbers, and the game will soon be up."

"Maybe thou hast heard that we have made a stand on the hills yonder?"