A Prince of Cornwall Part 36

Hardly had the golden toy touched the water when out flashed a long dagger from his robes, and he flew on me, thinking, no doubt, that I must needs turn my head to watch the fall of his sickle, and I was ready for him. He was no warrior, and his hand was too high, but he was a priest, and on him I would not use my weapon. I swung aside from him, striking up his arm, and his blind rush carried him against the menhir, so that the blow which was meant for me fell thereon, scoring the stone deeply; and lo! his own hand ended with that blow what I had begun, marking the cross-beam I had yet to make, so that the holy sign was complete.

And I saw that in a flash, even as he reeled back from the menhir and staggered. His foot splashed into the ooze of the bank and went down; and with that he lost his footing altogether and fell headlong into the pool, swaying as he went, across the front of the menhir.

Now there was a shout and the sound of hurrying footsteps behind me, but it was Howel's voice, and I did not turn. I leaned on the menhir to try to catch the white robes that swirled below me, and then I felt a heave and quaking in the turf on which I knelt as I reached over the black water, and Howel cried out and dragged me back roughly for a long fathom.

The menhir was falling. Slowly at first, and then more swiftly, it bent forward over the pool, and then it gathered way suddenly, and with a mighty crash it fell with all its towering height across it--and across the last flash of the white robes of the man who yet struggled therein.

For a moment the cross looked skyward, and then the wave swept over the stone, and it was gone into the unknown depths that maybe held so many secrets of the strange rites of those who had reared it.

Only where its foot had been planted was a pit to shew that somewhat had been there, and that was slowly filling with the black bog which had undermined the stone at last. The old prophecy had come to pa.s.s, and there was indeed an end.

But I saw for a moment into that pit before it was filled, and in it was laid open as it were a great stone chest, where the base of the menhir had been to cover it, and in that were skulls and bones of men, and among them the dull gleam of ancient gold and flint.

The wild tumult of the water died away, and the ripples came, and then the pool was gla.s.sy as before, but there was no sign of movement in it, and now it was clear no longer. And still Howel and I stared silently at that place whence the great stone had pa.s.sed like a dream.

"Nona saw it troubled," Howel said at last.

But I answered what was in my mind, with a sort of despair:

"He never told me where Owen lies."

"But I think we have found him, or nearly," Howel answered. "Come with me. This is no place for us to bide in. Did you hear those voices?"

I had heard the echoes from the rocks after the great crash, and they were strange and wild enough, but I heard nothing more.

"I heard one shout some time since," I said, rising up from where I still sat as Howel had left me.

"Nay, but the wailing when the stone fell," he said. "Wailing from all around. Wailing as of the lost. Come hence, Oswald."

I do not know if the man of the more ancient race heard more than I, mingled with those wild echoes, but I know that Howel the prince feared little. Now he was afraid, even in the bright sunlight, and owned it.

But the first shock had pa.s.sed from me, and I looked for our horses. They had gone. I think that the fall of the menhir scared them, for they were yet tied where Evan left them, just before that.

"Howel, the horses have broken loose and gone," I cried.

"Let them be," he said; "they will but go to the men down the valley, and will be caught there. Come, we must get hence."

He fairly dragged me with him towards the glen, and it was not until we were out of the circle of cliffs round the pool and picking our way among the boulders of the water course, that he spoke again.

"That is better," he said,--"one can breathe here. I do not care if I never set eyes on that place again, and indeed I hope we need not. Now we have to find Owen as quickly as we may."

"What of the two men?"

"One turned on us, and we slew him perforce. The other Evan has tied up safely, though it took us all our time to catch him. I left Evan trying to make him speak."

I wondered in what way he was trying, but the path grew steeper and steeper, and the plash of water falling among the stones made it hard to hear. We went on and on, ever upward, until the walls of the narrow glen widened, and at last we were on a barren hillside, across which the little stream found its way in a belt of green gra.s.s and fern and bog from farther heights yet, and there I looked for Evan. The path reappeared here again, and it went slanting across the hill and over its shoulder, hardly more than a sheep track as it was. And here lay the body of the slain man.

"Over the hill crest," Howel said, noting my look around. "The man ran across this track. Did you hear what Morfed said to them?"

"No, I heard him call, of course, but his tongue is unknown to me."

"It was the ancient British, I think. I heard a word or two here and there, but few of those we use yet. I heard more that are written in our oldest writings, and few enough of them. But what he said to his men was plain enough, happily. He bade them kill the captive to amend the wrong done. I do not know what the wrong was."

I knew then that Owen had had a narrow escape, and but for the fleetness of foot of Evan he would surely have been slain. I told Howel of what had pa.s.sed while he was absent, and so we came to the hilltop, and I saw a little below me the white robes of the captive, and Evan sitting by him, resting on his spear. He rose up as we came to him.

"Has he spoken, Evan?" I said.

"Ay, Master," he answered, with a grin that minded me of other days with him. "He says he will take us to the place where Owen lies, if we will promise to spare his life."

"We will promise that," I answered. "We will let him go his own way after we have seen all that we need."

"Let me rise, then," the man said quietly. "I will shew you all."

"Do not untie his hands, Evan, but let him walk," I said. "He is not to be trusted, if he is like his master."

It was the elder of the two whom we had before us, and he seemed downcast and harmless enough as we let him rise, though he was unhurt. He had run on while the younger turned to stay the pursuers, but Evan had caught him. He led us along the path, which I suppose his own feet and those of Morfed had worn, unless it was old as the menhir itself, and on the way he said suddenly:

"Let me ask one thing of you. Has the menhir fallen?"

"Ay, with the cross graven on it," I answered; and my words checked a laugh that was on Evan's lips.

"I knew it. I heard the crash," the man said. "That is an end therefore."

But Howel told the whole story as he had seen it take place, from the time when Morfed flew at me, to the time when the waters were still again; and as he heard, the man clenched his hands and bowed his head and went on quickly, as if that would prevent his hearing.

After that he said nothing.

Then the path took us round the shoulder of a hill, and before us was a rocky platform on the sunward slope which went steeply down to another brook far below us. Far and wide from that platform one could see over the heads of three streams, and across three hill peaks that were right before us, and at the back of the level place was a great cromlech made of one vast flat stone reared on three others that were set in a triangle to uphold it. Seven good feet from the ground its top was, and each of the three supporting stones was some twelve feet long, so that it was like a house for s.p.a.ce within, and the two foremost stones were apart as a doorway.

And again beyond the cromlech was a hut, shaped like a beehive of straw, built of many stones most wonderfully, both walls and roof.

There were things about this hut that seemed to tell that it was in use, and even as our footsteps rang on the rocky platform, out of its low doorway crept an ancient woman and stared at us wildly.

"What is this?" she screamed. "How should these unhallowed ones come hither?"

"Silence, mother," our captive said. "All is done, and these men come to take away the prince."

Then she saw that he was bound with Evan's belt, and at that she screamed again, and a wild look came into her face, and with a bound that was wonderful in one so old and bent she fled to the cromlech, and climbed up the rearward stone in some way, perching herself on the flat top, whence she glared at us.

"We will not harm you, mother," I said, seeing her terror.

And even as I spoke, from within the stone walls of the cromlech came the voice that I longed to hear again, weak, indeed, but yet that of Owen:

"Oswald, Oswald!"

Then I paid no more heed to the hag, but ran into the dark place, and there indeed was my foster father, swathed in bandages, and lying white and helpless on a rough couch, but yet with a bright smile and greeting for me, and I went on my knees at his side and answered him.

I will not say more of that meeting. Outside the old woman cursed and reviled Howel and Evan and the captive in turns unceasingly; but I heeded her no more than one heeds a starling chattering on the roof in the early morning. I had all that I sought, and aught else was as nothing to me.

After a little while Howel's face came into the doorway, and Owen called him in. I saw the look of the prince change as he marked the many swathings that told of Owen's sore hurts.

"Nay, but trouble not," Owen said, seeing this. "I am cut about a bit, for certain, but not so badly that I may not be about again soon. The old lady overhead has a shrewd tongue, but she is a marvellous good leech. I have not fared so badly here, and I knew Oswald would not rest until he found me."