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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Star of Mercia, by Blanche Devereux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Star of Mercia
+       Historical Tales of Wales and the Marches
+
+Author: Blanche Devereux
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2012 [EBook #39903]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAR OF MERCIA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by sp1nd and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  Star of Mercia
+
+  Historical Tales of Wales and the
+  Marches _by_ Blanche Devereux
+
+
+  _With an Introduction by_ Ernest Rhys
+
+
+  Jonathan Cape
+  Eleven Gower Street, London
+
+
+  _First published 1922
+  All rights reserved_
+
+  _Printed in Great Britain by_ Butler & Tanner, _Frome and London_
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+There are three reading-publics to which a tale-writer who attempts the
+uncertain business of writing about Wales may appeal. One is the
+homebred Welsh public that asks for a tale in the old tongue, _yr hen
+iaith_, and has never been quite satisfied, I believe, by any novel or
+short story about its life, or its real or romantic concerns, written
+in English. The second is the quasi-Celtic public, which may or may
+not know the _Mabinogion_ or Borrow's _Wild Wales_, and is glad of
+anything that gets the romance atmosphere. The third is the ordinary
+fiction-loving English public, which asks for a good story, rather
+likes a Welsh background as in Blackmore's _Maid of Sker_ (a much
+better book than _Lorna Doone_ to my mind), and does not trouble about
+the fidelity of the local colour in the reality of the setting. It is
+from the second and third of these audiences that Miss Devereux can
+look to gain her "creel-full of listeners," as the story of _The Yellow
+Hag_ has it.
+
+She has, to begin with, the genuine tale-teller's power of using a
+motive, a bit of legend, or a proverbial and stated episode, and giving
+it fresh life and something original out of her own fantasy. In her way
+of narrative, she does not adopt any rigorous ancientry. She has a
+sporting sense in dealing with an archaic character like _Mogneid_,
+and is satisfied to see him hammer at a door with the butt of his
+riding-whip. She will make _Gildas_ and _St. David_ or _Dewi Sant_,
+collogue as they never did in the old time before us; and devise a
+comedy and a drunkard's tragedy of her own for a wicked old sinner like
+King _Gwrthyrn_, just as she mixes chalk and charcoal freely in the
+Saxon cartoons that follow the Welsh. The important thing is, she makes
+her people live, and by the bold infusion of the same old human nature
+with prehistoric Welsh and old chronicler's English, she succeeds in
+creating a region of her own. It is not literally Cymric or Saxon; but
+it is instinct with the fears, loves, hopes and appetites that never
+decay, and realizes alike the drunkard's glut and the saint's mixed
+piety and shrewd sense.
+
+In her story of _Saint David_ she has gone to the old "Lives" and the
+documents for some of her colour. There are passages that may terrify
+the modern reader, who has no Welsh and does not know how to pronounce
+_Amherawdwr_ (the Welsh form of imperator or emperor), _Dyfnwal_,
+_Llywel_ or _Cynyr_. The average English reader who is brought up on
+soft and sibilant C's and i-sounding Y's will probably end by turning
+the last name into "sinner" in vain compromise. And possibly Miss
+Devereux is too hard on the average un-Celtic reader; for though she
+turns _Gwy_ into Wye, she retains _Dyfi_ for Dovey. But these are the
+pleasant little inconsistencies that exist in every English writer,
+from Shakespeare and Ben Jonson to Sir Walter Scott and George
+Meredith, who has attacked the impregnable old fortress of the British
+tongue.
+
+It is interesting to compare the two tales of wilder Wales with those
+of Mercia and Saxondom that succeed them in this mixed story-book. The
+first are realized almost entirely, you will discover, from the man's
+point of view. The Saxon tales are more intimately felt, and realized
+from the woman's dramatic angle. It is avowedly so in the chronicle of
+Winifred, Ebba's daughter, telling the grim love-story of Earl Sweyn
+the Nithing and Algive. This is in texture, and reality of presentment,
+maintaining the pseudo-archaic mode with just the faintest reminder of
+the modern tale-teller pulling the puppet-strings, on the whole the
+completest of all these new-old tales. In the portrait of Algive,
+tenderly and joyously painted, there is a faint reminiscence of a
+Celtic romance-heroine like Olwen (in the _Mabinogion_), which adds to
+the charm. And in other ways it will be found by the story-loving and
+unprejudiced reader, who reads for the pleasure of the thing, and not
+for criticism or edification, that these _Tales of Two Regions_ gain by
+carrying over at times the atmosphere of the one--never so lightly
+indicated--into the actual presentment of the other.
+
+ERNEST RHYS.
+
+1922.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                          PAGE
+
+INTRODUCTION                                 5
+
+GWRTHEYRN THE DRUNKARD                      11
+
+DEWI SANT                                   35
+
+STAR OF MERCIA                              65
+
+EARL SWEYN THE NITHING                      86
+
+EDITH'S WELL                               109
+
+RICHARD THE SCROB                          120
+
+
+
+
+Gwrtheyrn the Drunkard
+
+"_Vortigern of repulsive lips, who, drunken, gave up the Isle of Thanet
+to Hengist._"
+
+--WELSH TRIADS.
+
+
+Mogneid son of Votecori tapped upon the lintel of the open doorway and
+called "Ho, there! Is there refreshment for wayfarers?" From within
+came a luxurious sound of snoring. Mogneid muttered a curse, and began
+to hammer impatiently with the butt of his riding-whip. The father of
+the household coughed, rolled heavily from his bed of rushes, and
+appeared at the door--an old man, blinking with sleep, but collected
+and courteous.
+
+"What, lord?" said he. "There is tired you are now! How may I serve
+you? Please you share the shelter of my roof till evening!"
+
+"Nay, not so," Mogneid replied, "I am in haste to reach my journey's
+end. Give us to drink, sir, I pray you--beer, milk, or water--what you
+will--anything! We are dried up with this dust! And tell me, if you
+can, how far hence dwells Gwrtheyrn the King?"
+
+Without waiting to answer, the old man hobbled away, and returned a few
+minutes later with a big stone pitcher and two little cups of horn.
+
+"Alack, my friend," he grumbled, "they have taken all the beer. They
+are all gone to mow the hay, look you, my son and the women! and I am
+left to milk the cows and tend the livestock. Sore thing it is that old
+age comes so soon! Well, lord, if ye will not stay to cleanse your feet
+and enter my dwelling, let us at least converse in the shade. Here is
+new milk, that quenches thirst." He led Mogneid and his four
+serving-men beneath the boughs of a great hawthorn-tree, the only
+ornament of his straw-littered, pig-frequented entrance-yard.
+
+"Seek ye King Gwrtheyrn?"
+
+He dropped thankfully on to a low seat surrounding the tree trunk, and
+Mogneid sat down beside him, quaffed at the creamy liquor, and wiped
+the dust and sweat from his countenance. The traveller was a
+middle-aged man, thin and muscular, with a dark grizzled beard, and
+vague-looking light blue eyes that missed sight of nothing that went on
+around him. Upon the backs of his hands was tattooed a mystic design of
+circles interlaced.
+
+"I am from the land of Dyfed, reverend sir," he answered, "and I travel
+to the court of Gwrtheyrn son of Guitaul, lord of Ewyas, of Erging, and
+of Caer Glouwy. My folk were somewhat akin to his, many a generation
+ago, and there is talk of a marriage between my niece and a lord of
+Gwent who follows King Gwrtheyrn. If I mistake not greatly, I am now
+not very far from my kinsman's palace."
+
+"Noble lord," his host rejoined, "if ye be akin to Gwrtheyrn our King,
+doubtless ye lament, as we do, his fall from greatness. Our Gwrtheyrn,
+heaven protect him! was lord of all the armies of Britain--like the
+commanders of the Romans, see you now; and in truth a very great prince
+is he; none braver, or taller, or more just and more generous. But the
+pirates came by sea on every side; and those Britons of the East--they
+cannot fight like us men of the west; so King Gwrtheyrn sought to
+procure peace, that the land might have time to rest and gather her
+strength. When the chieftains of the Saxons, or Jutes, as they call
+that tribe of them, came to confer with him, they feasted well
+together, and Gwrtheyrn looked with eyes of love upon the daughter of
+Hengist the Jute; and he wedded her, and gave to her kinsmen a parcel
+of land in Kent, to hold under him, that they might aid him to beat off
+all other robbers. But after this there was no peace at all. God's
+curse on the Saxon ruffians! Would they keep within their boundaries,
+think you? Nay, they disquieted the Britons upon every side. Then the
+lords of Britain, with old Emrys at their head, grew angry, and refused
+to follow Gwrtheyrn longer: even Gwrthefyr, his son by the Roman woman,
+declared for another Amherawdwr[1] and other ways. So what was left to
+Gwrtheyrn, when they had taken from him the government of Britain, but
+to dwell here in the land of his fathers, amongst his own natural born
+people, and rule over us?--and there is well he does rule over us--yes,
+yes! I and my sons were with him in his army, in the grand old
+days--not so very long ago, truly. And behold me now--a life fit for a
+cart-horse! And I a free tribesman of Gwrtheyrnion!"
+
+          [1] Imperator.
+
+"Why, from thy saying," said Mogneid, "thou bearest great love to
+Gwrtheyrn."
+
+"Indeed yes!" cried the old man. "These are ill times we live in!
+Emrys commands in Britain now, or would command--but when all is said
+and done, he is only lord of Morganwg. And he is a stark Roman, who
+will have all things cut and dried about him. I tell you, I have a
+very little opinion of these Romans, and of them who follow in their
+steps. I have often heard my father tell of them. They came to our
+land, and cut down our fair sheltering forests, and carried away our
+fighting men to their own wars, so that Britain was left naked to the
+Saxons. As for their priests--sir, I perceive you to be from the west,
+where, I hear, priests are few.... Well, well! father Pewlin says,
+when the ague torments me, 'Pray that thou mayest be given strength to
+bear the trial.' Not such for me! I have fastened a scrap of my
+clothing above the old healing--well out yonder."
+
+"The old gods are indeed very wise! And Gwrtheyrn son of Guitaul? How
+does he pass his time?"
+
+"Alack that I must tell it! Is the caged beast as princely and as
+mighty as he that roams abroad where he will?... Sometimes he hunteth
+the stag or the boar--and there is metheglin, or wine, perchance--and
+good beer. What else is left to our lord Gwrtheyrn? he who was a hero
+in good King Arthur's time! That fat-faced Queen--I trow she is no
+stay to him! 'The sweet Verge of Drunkenness!' That was a song my
+father used to sing."
+
+"Most honoured sir," Mogneid broke in, "I thank you very heartily for
+your kind entertainment. But I must press on upon my road. I shall
+praise your hospitality to my noble cousin, believe you me. Tell me, I
+pray you, how soon I may be with him?"
+
+"Fifteen miles and more is Caer Gwrtheyrn from here. Cross you
+Clywedog and Ithon both. From the ford of Ithon there is a bridle-track
+the whole way. May the Saints and Mary keep you! and all the powers
+that be! May you suffer no violence, and may no goblin or hound of
+hell affright you!"
+
+"May all the powers bless you, my father! May the She-Greyhound of the
+Heavens,[2] who maketh fat both land and cattle, favour you! Fare ye
+well!"
+
+          [2] Ceridwen.
+
+Mogneid and his little train set forth once more. They reached the
+glen of Trawscoed in the cool of the evening when the sky was aglow
+with amber lights and calm turquoise depths.
+
+Caer Gwrtheyrn, the residence of the King of this country, which took
+the name of Gwrtheyrion from its then lord, rose a mile or so before
+them, upon the heights of Mynydd Denarch. As the Demetian cast his eye
+over the surrounding country, in the east, upon the track that
+descended from the hills of Gref-o-dig and Bron-y-Garn-llwyd, he
+caught sight of what looked to him like the glint of the sun on steel
+helmet and corslet.
+
+Mogneid lost no time. He quickened his pace, and reached the gateway
+of Caer Gwrtheyrn in about fifteen minutes. Soon the customary ritual
+was fulfilled: his feet were bathed by the porter, to signify his
+acceptance of hospitality for the night, and the King's door-keeper
+ushered him into the castle hall.
+
+It was dark already there. The torches smoked foully. There was a
+manifold smell of beer, roast meat, barley-broth, rosemary and
+woodruff, dogs and humanity. Mogneid felt that he could never find his
+way except perhaps by the sense of touch. Presently a loud, harsh
+voice rang out:
+
+"Who is it? Who? What say you? Thou didst not inquire? What have I
+told thee? I will have the name and ancestry of every considerable
+visitor to my house--announced to me"--the voice spoke thickly--"as
+has always been my wont! Curse thee for a numskull! Whom have we
+here?"
+
+Mogneid, who had reached the head of the board, looked up, and saw,
+scowling down upon him, a gigantic, loosely-built personage, of
+dignified bearing for all his violence--the wreck of a fine man, with
+a flushed face and swollen, bloodshot eyes--Gwrtheyrn, King of
+Gwrtheyrnion, Erging and Ewyas, whom the Britons had deposed from the
+sovereignty of them all for all his ill-judged policy and for what
+they deemed extravagant, un-British notions--Gwrtheyrn the Goidel, of
+the foreign "repulsive" lips.[3]
+
+          [3] Supposedly so called from his Goidelic accent in speaking
+          British.
+
+"Gracious lord," said Mogneid, "it is your humble kinsman, Mogneid,
+son of Votecori, son of Maelumi, from the land of Dyfed, praying that
+he may sojourn awhile under the King's protection. There is a family
+matter in question, O Gwrtheyrn, in which I seek the aid of the
+chieftain of my tribe."
+
+"Son of Votecori!" cried Gwrtheyrn, with outstretched hand. "My
+father's cousin's son! Now welcome, kinsman. Ho! bring meat and wine
+for the Lord Mogneid! Thou must eat ere we further confer."
+
+Seated by the side of his host, the new-comer feasted upon broiled
+mutton-chops, which were carried in from without, for during the
+summer weather Gwrtheyrn's food was cooked in a kitchen in an
+outhouse. The King's hall was crowded, but the company presented few
+elements of interest to the man of Dyfed. The Jutish Queen sat upon
+Gwrtheyrn's other hand, counting the stitches in her needlework; she
+had a broad face, a square full chin, and heavy auburn plaits. There
+were a few old women, her attendants; the huntsmen, servants, and
+men-at-arms; some rustic noblemen, talkative and disputatious; and
+some half-dozen of the King's pages or foster-sons, who squabbled in
+whispers over noughts and crosses chalked upon the empty hearth-stone.
+
+"Lord," said Mogneid, "there come others to claim hospitality of thee
+ere nightfall, I do think. As I looked back upon the eastern valley, I
+beheld a party of horsemen, clad in steel armour, such as the Romans
+wear."
+
+"Art clever, kinsman," Gwrtheyrn replied. "It is Emrys, to a
+certainty! or emissaries of his! Well that we are warned. They shall
+be warmly received, I promise!"
+
+"Whence comes Ambrosius?" Mogneid asked. "As I travelled hither, I
+heard of him at Caerdydd."
+
+"Look you, cousin," said Gwrtheyrn, "Ambrosius and I have some
+contention toward, concerning my lordship of Buallt, of which this
+overweening person claims the right to dispose, forsooth!--One cup
+more, kinsman Mogneid; it is of the Kentish vintage. Now when these
+Romanizers----"
+
+"They are here," said Mogneid.
+
+In truth, the clatter of horses' hooves resounded outside the
+building, and the voices of men. Twenty mail-clad soldiers entered the
+hall, with a keen-faced leader at their head.
+
+"Greeting, King Gwrtheyrn," the officer cried, "from Ambrosius the
+Imperator!"
+
+"Greeting!" returned Gwrtheyrn shortly. "What would the Lord Emrys say
+to us by your lips?"
+
+"Thus says Aurelius Ambrosius to you, O Gwrtheyrn King of Erging: The
+renowned and mighty lord Ambrosius himself is now at Buallt, whither
+he is come to bestow the lordship of those lands--which are his as
+much as thine by hereditary right, be it said--upon the valiant prince
+Pascent thy son, for fitting appanage and livelihood. And he charges
+thee, O Gwrtheyrn, to attend him straightway, upon the morrow, to
+witness the installation of thy said son in all due form and order."
+
+"Fore God!" Gwrtheyrn roared, "this is passing insolence! Hence to thy
+master, sir, and tell him that Gwrtheyrn permits not that another
+force from him what is his own! Or if it be too late now to make the
+return journey, why, there are my villeins' cow-houses at your service
+for the night. Ye shall have a guard set over you while ye are
+sleeping. Out of our presence, instantly, by blessed Paul!"
+
+"So be it," said the soldier. "We will back to the lord of Britain."
+
+While they were departing, the Queen and her women rose and withdrew.
+The foster-children went out into the twilit courtyard to play; the
+servants, after removing the dishes and the victuals, one by one left
+the room. Mogneid drew his seat closer to that of Gwrtheyrn.
+
+"Ticklish fellows, these mongrel Romans," he observed.
+
+The King was drinking deeply; the veins of his forehead still throbbed
+with rage and shame. By and by he put down his cup, and began to talk,
+with much gesticulation.
+
+"Romans! Romans! Romans! Curse them all, high and low, up and down!...
+Ambrosius their tyrant, to the lousiest beggar's brat--and----What
+good are they to the clans of Britain?--with their fine habits and
+their sickly vices? What good to me was my wife Severa, Maxen's
+daughter? Ye see what sons she brought me--Gwrthefyr, and Cyndeyrn,
+and Pascent--cleave to Ambrosius, and forsake their own father! Here,
+in the west, are men mightier and taller and braver than all their
+enfeebled town-dwellers. Good fighting Goidels...."
+
+"All men do know as much," said the other. "For my part, I would that
+my kinsmen were the chief men of the land."
+
+"God!" panted Gwrtheyrn. "What is gone is gone--for ever." He looked
+upon his companion with a watery eye. "Thou art verily welcome, good
+Mogneid. A man is always glad to gossip with one of his own blood,
+especially after long time of dreariness. Few guests knock at my
+castle-gate--we are out of the run of life nowadays, alas! alas!"
+
+The monotony and the squalor were all too evident.
+
+"It were surely unjust," said Mogneid, in soothing tones, "that Buallt
+should be taken from thee."
+
+"And shall I suffer it? I have my favourite hunting-lodge in that
+lordship. They are my lands--my lands! It pleases me to dwell there!"
+Gwrtheyrn shouted with maudlin vehemence.
+
+"What is your purpose, O King?"
+
+"Well, that--I know not. But he shall not have my lands! Look you,
+kinsman, it is near the harvest-time: I think my men will not come
+willingly to arms."
+
+"Then speak Ambrosius fair, biding thy time. Go not to Buallt, if thou
+like not the indignity; and when the harvest is over, levy thy forces
+and win back thine own. Is there difficulty in this?"
+
+"All the priests are ever on the old fox's side. A man cannot well
+struggle if he have holy Church against him. These are evil days
+indeed. They meddle in everything, these rascally adze-heads.[4] Now
+in the days of old, we could worship whom we would, aye, and how we
+would. Prosperous days!... There were the sacred fires at the spring
+and at the fall--those were things of power; they made the earth yield
+bravely and plenteously. I remember I have run through the bonfires,
+myself, many a time, when I was a child. And the magic of the wise
+ones--I swear each spell was worth ten blessings of a priest!"
+
+          [4] Celtic priests, from their form of tonsure.
+
+"The King speaks soothly. In Dyfed there are many who do think as we,
+and who will scarcely permit the new-fangled faith to show its head.
+It is not too late, O King, to throw off the yoke of the Romanizers.
+Ye are all the world yet to your own people; they hate to see you idle
+and dispossessed. There are many men of my country eager to rise at
+your bidding: I know their minds."
+
+"Cousin, this is a cheerful saying! Thy coming has filled me with
+hope."
+
+"Know then that the ancient wisdom is mine, perfectly: from my
+childhood was I trained up in it by the last survivors of the
+venerable sacred order. Listen, then, my lord, that should be King of
+all the kings of Britain, to the words of the high gods that they have
+spoken unto Mogneid! Thus and thus, O Gwrtheyrn, foretold the entrails
+of the slave-boy accepted of Ceridwen...."
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Lord King," said Eliseg the chief huntsman, "it is not meet, nor is
+it wise, to talk of intimate matters with the scavenger of the
+by-ways. In other words, master, there is an old crafty bird, called
+cuckoo, who stealeth the nests of others that his own offspring may
+grow and flourish. Few have seen the cuckoo, but there are some that
+have had sight of him. The cuckoo is perfectly familiar to me."
+
+"Aye, so," said Dyfnwal the King's chamberlain.
+
+"By Hu the Mighty! speak plainly, Eliseg, or else hold thy tongue,
+thou naughty rogue!" cried Gwrtheyrn; but he smiled upon his trusty
+servant.
+
+"Lord, I think ye cannot know what ye are about. The cuckoo of my
+simile, look you, he is the new-come guest, the lord from Dyfed, from
+whom the King has no secrets. This is not the first time this man has
+crossed my way. In Dyfed I was born, and there my wife's parents do
+still dwell. O King, this is Mogneid the Druid, of very evil fame!"
+
+"The devil take thee for a lying slanderer! Mogneid is near of kin to
+me, within the nine degrees. He is a worthy prince, and fit to company
+me in all my undertakings. Well, and if he be learned in the ancient
+wise things--what can we show to-day to compare with the might of our
+forefathers?"
+
+"By my dogs and my horns and my leashes! King Gwrtheyrn," said Eliseg,
+"we seek not to meddle impertinently, Dyfnwal and I, look you. But I
+have served you four and thirty years, and Dyfnwal thirty, day in and
+day out, in storm and shine, and we would not, for the love we bear
+you, that ye should now ride for a fall."
+
+"We speak as your friends," Dyfnwal grunted.
+
+"It is a dangerous reptile ye have sheltered," continued the other.
+"Dreaded is he throughout the land of Dyfed for his unfathomable
+deeds. He has all the art of the Druids; and he is the last of the
+brood, God be praised! The days of darkness are over, my king: men
+will no longer take succour from the wiles of devils, thanks be to the
+Lord Christ and to Mary the dear Lady of mankind!"
+
+"Will ye hold your peace?" stormed the King. "Get you gone, both of
+you, or I will have your tongues slit for you! What next, what next, I
+ask you?"
+
+"The tantrums of him!" said Eliseg, when they two were outside the
+door. "Dyfnwal, look you, I fear that this fellow will bring peril
+upon the King. He was never up to good from the hour wherein he first
+drew breath. He is up and down the country, about and about, each day,
+questioning every gaffer and goodwife, every lad, lass, and babe that
+will waste the precious hours talking with him. Already Lord Gwrtheyrn
+is never from the metheglin. We must let nothing escape us, lest our
+master be undone."
+
+"I have eyes," said Dyfnwal. "I use them."
+
+"Hist! I see him," exclaimed the huntsman. "Grows there gold in the
+villeins' hay-meadow, think you?"
+
+Within the hall, Gwrtheyrn raged and muttered. When his wrath began to
+cool, he felt the want of the congenial society of Mogneid. This
+King's life was a lonely one. The Queen spent hours at spinning and
+carding, weaving and embroidery; and although she would listen,
+nodding and smiling, at any time to her husband's remarks, she seldom
+spoke, and her thoughts seemed always far away, at rest upon things
+serene and pleasant. So it came about that he seldom sought her
+company. Why must his kinsman tarry so long from him? wondered
+Gwrtheyrn. He gulped down a cupful of metheglin, and then another, and
+subsided into a chair, to wait.
+
+Mogneid came up the hill, smiling to himself. He knew the lie of the
+country of Gwrtheyrnion well by now, and the disposition of its
+people. He entered the castle hall. To his surprise, early in the day
+though it was, Gwrtheyrn sat propping himself nicely in his chair of
+state: a gold cup, relic of the sack of some Romano-British villa, lay
+at his feet, and there were splashes of metheglin on the floor. The
+King's mood was benign and expansive.
+
+"Want thee--tell me," he greeted him. "Old preaching devil! Alleluia!
+and they all ran away! Whatshisname?"
+
+"Garmon, perhaps," answered Mogneid. Affecting indifference, he
+watched his kinsman narrowly.
+
+"Garmon--yes--yes--that's he. Father of the king of devils! Well,
+Garmon--he's here. He's sent me a message." ... Gwrtheyrn seized his
+cousin's arm. "I'll tell thee a secret. Knowest thou my first wife's
+niece? Knowest her? A most sweet lass! She came to me, two years ago,
+being widowed and very young, and having no protector. I have her now,
+in the little summer dwelling of Rhaiadr Gwy. None know--the Queen
+knows not. Well.... It has leaked out somehow.... Holy Garmon sends to
+tell me that we are a scandal far and wide, and bids me mend my way of
+life. The old fool! Calls her my daughter! Understand, she's not my
+daughter. Not my daughter! Wife's niece!"
+
+"Thou must send her away!" cried Mogneid.
+
+"Don't want to send her away. 'Tis a pretty chuck--she pleases me....
+Besides"--he beamed--"we have a son."
+
+"All this is nought!" Mogneid insisted harshly. "Will you risk all we
+have schemed for, my lord, for one girl? Put her from you, I say!"
+
+He had used too rough a tone. A look of distress crept across the
+stupor of the King's countenance.
+
+"This priesthood! 'tis a cursed powerful thing," he said, with the
+stirrings of cunning apparent. "Old Garmon--he has the ear of
+Ambrosius. And these Christians show forth miracles in plenty."
+
+"My lord, they are not the only wonder-workers. Can it be that the
+wise men of old, who raised the giant stones for the temples, and
+forged the swords and shields that none now can fashion, were weaker
+than these unlettered saints? And their lore abides in me, and in some
+few instructed ones in the west country. Now, Gwrtheyrn, my king, what
+can a man's will do not, if he foster and train it by supernatural
+discipline? And what is the first work of the will but to sink our
+enemies?"
+
+"What is the end of man, Mogneid?" said Gwrtheyrn. "Shall he be born
+again, Mogneid? Perhaps from the crop of a hen? Shall he? From the
+crop of a hen!"[5]
+
+          [5] Gwrtheyrn had Taliesin's mystical account of his
+          incarnations in mind.
+
+"There is no end to the soul," Mogneid replied. "And every soul
+returns to a body when he may find one. Come, O King, take heart. We
+shall trample upon the necks of Ambrosius and Garmon."
+
+"Kinsman, do what you can," said the King. "I rely on you."
+
+Mogneid left him then, and sought the Queen's apartment. He despised
+the King's wife, but as a tool she might be useful.
+
+Gwrtheyrn, sobered now, beat his brow in turmoil of another sort.
+
+"Beast or bird"--he cried--"man or woman--or wandering, bodiless
+spirit! Or purgation by fire--or to roast in flames for ever! I
+believe--I believe in hell! God--if Thou beest God ... O Christ,
+Christ! I am lost--I cannot repent!"
+
+
+Germanus of Auxerre and his colleague Lupus came to Caer Gwrtheyrn,
+aflame with zeal for God and for the Church. In his palace hall they
+upbraided King Gwrtheyrn, calling him the shame and scandal of all
+Britain. As for the royal culprit, he would not hear them patiently.
+Furious words were bandied between them.
+
+"Things shall be as I will!" roared Gwrtheyrn. "Am I not lord in my
+own dominions? Presumptious shaveling! what thinkest thou I care for
+thy preachments?"
+
+"O Gwrtheyrn, egregious sinner!" said Germanus. "Know that we have
+power behind us. Ambrosius, who is near at hand with his army, will
+soon be here, to punish or to break thee. Who will comfort thee with
+the rites of holy Church if we proclaim thee outcast? Fortunate art
+thou if thou escape so easily. Lupus and I will fast upon the Lord God
+until He grant our demands concerning thee. Ere many days, heaven will
+pour down fire upon thee, to shrivel up thee and thine and all thine
+ill-famed land!"
+
+This curse carried such terror to all standing by that even Mogneid
+durst not suggest that the King should order the seizure of the holy
+men, and they two passed out and went their way. Said Mogneid to
+Gwrtheyrn:
+
+"If Ambrosius come upon us, and Garmon and his monks from Llanharmon,
+we are undone, and they will surely do thee to death. I can think of
+only one resource. Thy Queen--has she not Saxon kindred about
+Pengwern, not forty miles away? I think she will be persuaded to send
+them messages. We will make allies of them; and should Ambrosius
+besiege this fortress, we can hold out within, until the Saxons come
+to deliver us."
+
+"Do what thou wilt," answered Gwrtheyrn. "Speak thou to my wife. By
+now she must have heard some story of my pretty dear."
+
+The Queen was not jealous; and very readily she dispatched a runic
+writing and another token to a kinsman of hers whom she knew to be
+commanding the Saxon outposts at Pengwern. These were entrusted to
+three huntsmen of the King's, who had by heart every path and by-track
+in the country. Gwrtheyrn and Mogneid made fast the defences, and
+provided arms for every man of the King's subjects near at hand who
+could be spared from gathering in the harvest in feverish haste.
+
+But, on the morning of the next day, Eliseg brought dire tidings to
+Caer Gwrtheyrn. The monks of Cilfachau had taken all three messengers,
+and had carried them off to Germanus at Buallt. And the army of
+Ambrosius had been seen moving upon Gwrtheyrn's palace.
+
+"We must to Llanaelhairn, in the valley that opens into Lleyn from the
+bay of Arvon," said Gwrtheyrn. "There it will be hard for them to
+follow us."
+
+"My plans have failed," thought Mogneid. "I came hither too late.
+Cousin Gwrtheyrn cannot weather this storm."
+
+In a very little while, their preparations were made and they set out:
+the King and the Druid; the Queen upon a pillion behind Eliseg;
+Dyfnwal and all the men of the household, a few of the women whose
+homes were inaccessible, and every man of the royal hamlet who could
+be quickly armed and mounted--leaving Caer Gwrtheyrn to whatsoever
+might befall.
+
+For seven hours they rode to the north-west. After passing the
+confines of Gwrtheyrn's own lands, they kept to the course of the Wye,
+which river became narrower and more rapid with every frequent bend.
+They travelled slowly, for they were an unwieldy party. About sunset,
+an ominous smoky glare appeared in the sky in the region they had
+abandoned.
+
+"They burn Caer Gwrtheyrn!" said the King; and he wept uncontrollably.
+
+At nightfall they came to the outskirts of the waste about Plinlimmon.
+This was an uninhabited tract, part oak and elm thicket, part
+alder-shaded swamp. In the higher reaches, huge craggy hills arose
+like spectral scaly monsters gathering their strength for a spring.
+Beyond lay the open moorland where Wye has its rising, and where
+Severn is a tiny trickle, whose source is unknown to man. Owls hooted
+in this wooded valley, and there were strange flutterings, squeakings
+and snappings, and patterings over the ground. The King's men refused
+to go farther.
+
+"The dogs of hell are abroad, lord!" cried one. "Arawn's hounds--yes,
+yes! Once it is dark, they roam this desert place. There is fearful
+they are now. White they are, every one, with rose-red ears, and their
+jaws foam and drip. And the man who sees them--sure to be ailing from
+that very hour, and die before long, and that is a fact. Very, very
+unlucky! Let us stay where we are, now!"
+
+They wailed and besought so piteously that Gwrtheyrn had to permit a
+halt in spite of the friendly moonlight, and of Mogneid's whispered
+urgings. A long low cave was near at hand: into it they packed,
+shivering in the night-mist, for they durst not kindle a fire.
+
+They passed a restless night; only the Queen slept soundly in the cave
+on the borders of the haunted forest. Then on once more over the rocky
+track that led through Arwystli and Meirionedd to their goal, the
+peninsula of Lleyn.
+
+"I dreamed of Garmon," said Gwrtheyrn, as they started. "His face
+glowed white, like hottest iron, kinsman Mogneid--I cannot forget it.
+He is fasting upon his God, to procure my destruction."
+
+Mogneid answered nothing, but gnawed his lip.
+
+"Llanaelhairn must we make upon the morrow," continued the King. "It
+is a little old fortress of my father's building, for to guard the
+valley beneath Yr Eifl from attack by sea: I myself have not set foot
+there for more than thirty years. The way thither is little known, and
+I wager Emrys will be finely entangled once or twice if he endeavour
+to follow us. But there are caretakers, and there should be flocks and
+herds for our regaling."
+
+That night they spent in Arthog. A hospitable Goidelic lord
+overwhelmed them with attentions, giving them what food he had, and
+they passed the night in and about his dwelling. Across the estuary of
+the Mawddach, the forsaken druidic stones showed white and awful.
+
+By noon next day, they had reached the borders of Lleyn. By late
+afternoon, as they pursued their rough, scarcely distinguishable,
+interminable way, the Queen grew querulous. She could ride no longer;
+every muscle in her body ached; she must drink deeply from a tumbling
+spring that ran across their path, and bathe her face, hands, and
+feet; she was hungry, and here were bilberries. Surely they were safe
+from their enemies? And every one was sun-dried and speechless!
+
+Well, she might rest a breathing-while: they might all stretch their
+limbs and eat and drink their fill.
+
+"But come thou on with me, cousin," said Gwrtheyrn. "I cannot stay
+still. We will go ahead, and spy over the hills before us, and seek
+the readiest way." To the commander of the men-at-arms: "Look you,
+tarry not long, for sunset will soon be upon us."
+
+Said Eliseg to Dyfnwal, "They are gone together, the King and he. I
+like not the evil lowering of his face this day. We should follow
+them."
+
+"At once!" said Dyfnwal. "The bay and the roan are the fleetest."
+
+The sky had clouded over, and there was a rainy light in the western
+quarter.
+
+"Look yonder!" cried Mogneid, when they had ridden some two miles
+farther.
+
+A great army of horsemen was winding about the foot of the hills of
+Pennant, and at their head was something, broad and scarlet-gleaming,
+that flapped in the evening breeze--surely the dragon-standard of
+Ambrosius.
+
+"Then the end is come," said Mogneid.
+
+"On to Llanaelhairn!" Gwrtheyrn exclaimed. "Once there, we can get the
+cattle within, and hold the ford, belike, with my people that dwell
+there. Hasten, kinsman, hasten! The others have sure guides; they
+cannot miss the way."
+
+When they reached the ford of the little brook, now called by King
+Gwrtheyrn's name, that flowed beneath the walls of the fortress of
+Llanaelhairn, the moon was shining, and the clouds were fewer. They
+crossed the castle forecourt. Not a soul was about, for the land-maer
+and his family had gone to the upper pastures to bring in the sheep
+and cattle. As they opened the hall door, the stifling atmosphere beat
+heavily against their faces. A fierce fire was burning, upon which the
+women of the household had lately roasted whole the carcasses of
+several sheep. After glancing around, Mogneid sped up the stairway
+leading into the look-out tower, and Gwrtheyrn followed him into the
+small, low chamber at the top. He found Mogneid before its
+half-ruinous window, tugging at the rusty iron grating that screened
+the aperture.
+
+Presently the mortar that had held it crumbled, the whole frame-work
+came away in Mogneid's hands, and he cast it violently upon the floor.
+Then he returned to the window. Above him the heights of the Rivals
+towered; away to the west, the sea-waves lapped sullenly; below, Nant
+Gwrtheyrn ran very low in its stony bed.
+
+"What hope is there now?" cried Gwrtheyrn the King. "What hast thou
+done for me, Mogneid my kinsman, who promised so much? Garmon is a
+greater curser than thou--his magic mightier. The ancient gods have
+lied to thee, Mogneid--they delude thee--thou art not their favoured
+one! Wilt thou give me back my kingdoms, thou who hast all things of
+power at thy fingers' ends!" He rushed upon the other with a snarl
+like a wild beast's.
+
+Mogneid son of Votecori turned upon him a look that scorched, and
+Gwrtheyrn cowered back against the wall, shaking from head to foot.
+
+"Thou scum of dross! Thou refuse thing! Thou drunkard and son of
+drunkards! Aye, a high destiny hadst thou once--until thou gavest over
+thy will to sloth and rottenness! Talk ye of hope, my lord? Was
+Ambrosius ever known to spare? Well, there is one way--by this
+opening, see you?--it is fully wide enough: a man may lower himself;
+it is a swift ending. Concerning what will follow, these Christians
+lie. Perchance thou wilt become a silvery salmon, very wise, in Wye or
+Dyfi; or a wallowing hog; or Emperor of the West, perchance, or Pope
+of Rome. Jump, Gwrtheyrn, King of Gwrtheyrnion, Buallt, Erging, Ewyas,
+and Caer Glouwy, sometime Pendragon of all Britain, and flee shame!"
+
+"Shame--only that ... I must flee shame!" muttered Gwrtheyrn, climbing
+into the window as though compelled by the fascination of Mogneid's
+eye. "I must--I will ... I cannot...."
+
+He faltered on the edge, but the Druid, standing behind, pushed him,
+and his long body fell hurtling through the air.
+
+After peering for a moment at a certain motionless dark patch upon the
+stones below, Mogneid descended the staircase, in haste to make his
+escape.
+
+Eliseg and Dyfnwal caught him in the doorway. They carried him, bound
+hand and foot, into the hall, and threw him upon the fire that still
+burned brightly. After a little while, they took him off the fire, and
+hacked off his head with a chopper that was used for jointing meat.
+
+
+
+
+Dewi Sant
+
+"_O holy David, our bishop, take away our sadness._"
+
+
+David strode along the winding road: his feet were bare, his head was
+bare and tonsured, and one garment, of coarse felt, but snowy white,
+was his only bodily covering. The sun beat down upon him; the sky, of
+a deep, throbbing blue, held few clouds, and they silvery and
+sweetly-curved as the breast-feathers of a dove; on his left, the
+sea dazzled; before and about him, small columns of dust twirled
+mischievously. David's eyes, dark and bright, feasted untiringly upon
+the life and growth around him, and he sang as he went.
+
+    "Dancing is the sea, the winds are dancing also:
+    Breath of angels hath the sun-warmed hay, the poppies
+        are out in scarlet.
+    Good thing it is for a man to strive in his lifetime.
+
+    "A mighty chorus echoeth from the bed of ocean:
+    There is also the poem of the flight of birds.
+    Who would conquer sin, must learn praise and gratitude.
+
+    "Who hath set the thrift in the rocks that are smooth
+        and barren?
+    Who nourisheth the little sweet rose that maketh a garden
+        of the sand-dunes?
+    How can a man wander, when for him the Love of God is nailed
+        on high?
+
+    "The corn-ears are purple-ripe:
+    Generous gifts bring the apple-boughs against the season of
+        All Saints.
+    Very good is song, that giveth cheerfulness."
+
+He turned him about, and looked back upon the whitewashed walls of
+Mynyw, his darling among his many foundations. To the little company of
+religious who followed his steps, he cried:
+
+"I do think that of all the lands in all the world the fairest is our
+land of Cymru. And of all the parts of Cymru, look you, the fairest and
+the sweetest is this Dyfed."
+
+Aidan, Teilo, Ismail, and some few more clustered round him. Said they
+all together:
+
+"Indeed, indeed, blessed, holy father, blessed is our Dyfed!" and many
+were the looks of affection they cast upon their little abbot.
+
+"I have been in the Holy Country," said David. "That is the very marvel
+of the world--a jewel set in the desert; but hard and bright, dear me!
+there is unplayful it is! I can never give thanks enough, children,
+that I am permitted to dwell here where I was born."
+
+So saying, he resumed his journey. They had left the monks' cultivated
+domain behind them, and were now in the shade of a broad lane between
+willows and hazels, where the mallows and the bellflowers grew rankly.
+Of a sudden, the lane came to an end, and they emerged upon the little
+promontory below Porth Mawr. Carn Llidi loomed above them, on their
+right hand, and at its foot rose Ty Gwyn, the deserted college of
+Patrick, with its grave-stones round about it. In the western distance,
+far away, appeared a green fairy land, with the hazy forms of mountains
+melting into the skyline.
+
+"Let us pray for our brethren of Ireland," said David, "of the Second
+Order of Saints."
+
+About an hour later, David was still some few paces at the head of his
+people, and repeating to himself, hands folded, the prayers for the
+third hour after noon, when he felt his shoulder seized in a brawny
+grip, and he was forcibly twisted round until he faced a sturdy
+individual, with a broad, smiling red face, sandy hair, and twinkling
+green-grey eyes, and fully equipped with the war-sword, flowing robe,
+and shoes of dressed leather which only a nobleman might wear. Near him
+were his retinue of horsemen, one of whom held the steed from which his
+lord had just dismounted.
+
+"David, little cousin," was his greeting, "whither so fast, I pray
+thee, with thy chin to the ground? Have you mission to punish
+wrong-doers, O very powerful saint?"
+
+"Why, kinsman Cadfan," David replied, "sweet is the sight of you to the
+eyes. It is seldom we meet now. But I am not abroad to deal with
+evildoers, look you. Dyfed, thanks be to God! is a very peaceful place;
+the religion of Christ reigns even in the farthest nooks. I have enough
+to do, kinsman, to order mine own house and the brethren and disciples
+over whom I rule. The bishops hold synod at Brefi, and I must be there
+with the rest; though little doing, say I, follows much talking."
+
+"Hast indeed won all this land by thy words and wonders?" cried Cadfan,
+who, though he had great affection for David, could never, in his
+presence, master an uncontrollable desire to tease him. "Look that they
+deceive thee not, the pigs of Dyfed! and pay not double tithes to their
+Druids, and turn to them first at birth and at death! What did I hear
+of thee and of a monstrous old stone? Some tale spread by women...."
+
+"Dost thou doubt the power of God?" exclaimed David, with flashing
+eyes. Then, as he caught sight of his interlocutor's face, he could not
+help smiling. "Cadfan, they would not give up the old stone of
+Cetti--slew beast and fowl upon it, to obtain prosperity, or for
+blessing or cursing, and slept beneath its shade that dreams might
+visit them! Then, on a day, when a great crowd was there assembled, I
+prayed, and took a sword in my hand, and climbed upon the old
+abomination, to the very top; and I smote with my sword in the face of
+all the people, and lo! the stone split in twain with a hideous scream.
+Oh, joyful was my heart for that God had deigned to heed my
+supplication! And so was the unbelieving remnant drawn into the
+Church's fold."
+
+"Well done, well done!" said his jovial kinsman.
+
+"And the Gwyddel chieftains? Are they forbearing towards thee?"
+
+"Boia is dead. Leschi came out of Ireland and slew him and all his in
+one night; and Leschi is for holy Church. But it was pity for Boia. He
+suffered us gladly, and I think would have hearkened to the word ere
+long. A brave soul! I say mass for him often, as Cattwg does for worthy
+Virgil. But the wicked shrew, his wife! she urged him with all her
+might against us; and when we would take no notice of her handmaidens
+whom she sent to bathe in the stream that runs before our very doors,
+one day she lured Dunawd her step-daughter to an ancient altar in a
+forsaken spot, and sacrificed her to the Siddi, her underground gods.
+First shore off the little one's hair,[6] and then slit her throat! A
+sweet innocent child! who would come to our church door, to peep and to
+listen, and then flee shyly away. Alas! alas! a grievous happening!"
+
+          [6] In sign of dedication.
+
+"And wilt thou spend all thy days in lonely Dyfed, little holy one? I
+did hear of thee at Afallach,[7] where Joseph's thorn grows. Didst thou
+not bestow there some very rich treasure? Would that not be a kingly
+centre for thee to dwell in?"
+
+          [7] Glastonbury.
+
+"At Afallach left I the sapphire altar which I brought from Caer Salem.
+Afallach will be great and famous, I doubt not; but, Mary be aiding! I
+will live and die yonder in Glyn Rhosyn, nursery of the dearest of my
+sons. Lonely we are, yes. We control no state policy, for Britain is
+the dominion of the Saxons; but Cymru shall render us thanks in days to
+come: we shall have great power of prayer."
+
+"O cousin, it is marvel to me that thou canst thus go barefoot in the
+dust, and hang rough texture of the taeogion[8] about thee, and drink
+nought but tasteless water. I am but an ordinary man, and I would not
+forego my pleasures of everyday for any miracles which might be sung of
+down the ages. Well, well! each man to his own taste! I go to old Aunt
+Angharad, at Porth Mawr. The blessed woman! she has found me a dainty
+maid to wife, says she. Now speak me a blessing, David, and let me have
+your prayers."
+
+          [8] Villeins.
+
+"Our Lord God be aiding thee, kinsman Cadfan! May He preserve to thee
+thy good tenderness of heart!"
+
+"And may He prosper thee, my David! Fare thee well, little kinsman."
+
+Cadfan departed on his way, and David and his companions set their
+faces northwards. They were not a solitary party. The road swarmed with
+priests and monks, and was trodden also by many laymen and some few
+women whom devotion or curiosity drew to the synod of the bishops at
+Brefi in Ceredigion. As evening drew on, the abbot-bishop of Menevia
+led his tired followers up the slope of a wooded hill, where he knew
+were dry caverns to pass the night in, and a spring of water. When they
+neared their proposed resting-place, a tonsured figure ran out from
+under the trees, and stood in their path-way, waving his arms.
+
+David whistled to the mongrel greyhound that padded by his side. Then,
+suddenly, he hastened his steps, his face aglow.
+
+"Padarn! Dear, dear me! My Padarn! Are ye many? Or may we spend this
+night with thee and thine in this God-given spot?"
+
+"Well met, well met, David!" cried Padarn, "And well met all, ye
+road-stained travellers! There is surely room for all." He hurried
+through the thicket to the clearing before the rocky bank which the
+aforesaid caves perforated, calling out: "Brethren! whom see ye here,
+whom see ye? Look you, this is David of Mynyw. Teilo, he, and I did
+journey together to the holy Jerusalem, one in soul, in joy, and in
+sorrow; and is it not a gladsome thing that he should be here amongst
+us this night?"
+
+An enthusiastic welcome ensued, and before long David, Teilo, Aidan,
+Ismail and the rest had been seated by the fire and supplied with food
+and drink. This was the Age of the Saints. Besides the newcomers there
+were some dozen holy men, whose names are living yet, sitting about
+upon the ground, each one bound for the great synod of the Cymric
+priesthood. In the mouth of the largest cave squatted an elderly man,
+sallow and wrinkled, with a beak-like nose and weary eyes; he had
+vellum, pen, and inkhorn, and wrote sedulously, giving himself no
+respite, with a heavy frown between his brows the while. David knew him
+for Gildas of Strathclyde, the apostle of Ruys in Lesser Britain.
+
+They yielded early to their fatigue, and lay down where they best
+might, most of them within the shelter of the caves. Gildas put aside
+his pen.
+
+"They are all mightily drunken with the use and custom of sins!" he
+thundered. "If I reckoned without pause for ten years, the scandals
+concerning the high men of Britain would not be enumerated--and
+concerning also our monks and ordained priests (Have mercy, have mercy,
+on us miserable sinners!). Our princes are a host of devils--nay, worse
+than devils, for have they not received the sign and sacrament of
+baptism? Lust, and pillage, and oppression are such as were never
+before since the creation of the world. Stinking to heaven is
+Gomorrah--I should say Aberffraw! And there dwells the most heinous,
+the Satan of them all--and that is Maelgwn Gwenedd!"
+
+David yawned, said a prayer for his kinsman Maelgwn, stretched himself,
+and fell asleep.
+
+At the first glimmer of dawn, they were awakened by the clanging of
+Gildas's bell. Their prayer said, David went to bathe in the brook near
+by. When he returned to the camp-fire, Gildas, his countenance sallower
+than usual, twisting and biting his lips, had just bent down to the
+simmering pot that hung over the flames, with a loaf of bread in his
+hand, when the mongrel grey-hound darted up to him, made an ecstatic
+leap, and snatching the loaf in his teeth, rushed away with it down the
+hill-side.
+
+David's laugh pealed loud and clear. The holy Gildas turned furiously
+upon a little boy, one of his pupils, who stood beside him rubbing
+sleepy eyes, and abused him for not giving his master warning of what
+he must have seen was likely to occur. The bishop of Mynyw ran as fast
+as he could after the thief. Some distance below, in the valley, he
+caught his dog, beat and scolded him, and possessed himself of the
+bread. In the village at the hill's foot, he admired a cottager's
+leeks, and was given a handful. He then re-ascended the hill.
+
+"The sour-faced hawk!" thought he. "I am glad, very glad, he did not
+obtain the rule of Mynwy when he tried to supersede me, long ago!"
+
+Gildas confronted him.
+
+"Ill is thy laughter, Dewi mab Sandde!" he spluttered hoarsely. "For a
+holy man of God--such conduct is light...."
+
+"Thou hast the black bile, brother," said David. "Laughter is surely
+given us for good--so are we different from the brute beasts. We must
+practise austerities for all needful purposes; but I counsel thee that
+thou endeavour to find joy in all things gay and innocent, and in thine
+own mishaps, that prove thee human, most of all: so shall such
+dust-specks not make the sunshine less sweet to thee!" In softer tones,
+"Lift up thy heart, brother; in a very little while, we shall break our
+fast. I and my companions will find food enough for us all and to
+spare."
+
+Gildas, raging inarticulately, rushed into the cave where he had spent
+the night.
+
+David turned to the contrite boy, whose cheeks showed traces of tears.
+
+"Hast thou seen our Lady's Candle,[9] over yonder by the quarry-side?"
+said he. "Such altar-light saw I never made by the hand of man. Seek
+thou it out, for a lovely sight."
+
+          [9] The great mullein.
+
+"Father David," answered the child, "how may that be? Do they not tell
+us that we must not gratify our senses, for that this world teems with
+sin most foul?"
+
+"That is old nonsense!" cried David. "Has not the Lord made all the
+earth, and is not His Word indwelling? And, son, remember this--come
+storm, come drought, come frost, nothing can take our God from us."
+
+"Is it true, O my father," asked the boy, wide-eyed, "that once on a
+time your own cook did try to poison you?"
+
+"The poor mad fellow!" said the bishop shortly. "Luckily one of my
+guests suspected, and so were we one and all saved alive. Go thou draw
+water, little one, where the brook is deepest: I have need of more."
+
+David stirred the broth in the pot, adding his leeks and some sage and
+pepper which he carried about him. The monks had gone their several
+ways, in search of wild fruits and pot-herbs. From within the biggest
+cave came the sound of restless fidgeting. David began to sing:
+
+    "Hast thou heard the saying of Calwaladr,
+    King of all Britain?
+    The best crooked thing is the crooked handle of a plough."
+
+There was a hasty footfall behind and Gildas stood beside him.
+
+"Thy pardon, David," he said, very humbly, hanging his head. "Indeed,
+indeed, I know not why--but I have always a dark humour before
+breakfast!"
+
+"Oh, Gildas, Gildas," cried David, as he wrung both the other's hands.
+"I am too hot-mettled, I fear, in the early hours!"
+
+When they were within an hour's walk of the town of Brefi, David left
+them and disappeared into the woods.
+
+"There will be enough to talk and enough to listen," said he to Aidan.
+"I feel a great need to pray."
+
+The rest of the party proceeded without him. Now upon and around the
+hill of Brefi vast numbers of people were assembled. Certain questions
+disquieted the land of Cymru. Some hundred and fifty years before,
+Morgan the Briton, who is also called Pelagius, being at Rome, where he
+lived ascetically and reasoned unceasingly, hatched from his brain a
+subtle heresy. Adam's sin was his alone, and brought no curse upon his
+children; the will of a man to do good was enough to secure him from
+sin; Christ died only that His example might prompt and incite the
+well-disposed to greater efforts, and that those baptized in His Name
+might enter after death into a heaven superior to that of unbelievers.
+Now, of all the races of the earth, the race which set most store by
+the sayings of Morgan was his own nation of the Briton, who love
+discussion before all things, and especially discussion of the
+properties of the soul. Even so late as this, the Pelagians in Britain
+were many, and tampered with the faith of many, exhorting their
+fellow-Christians to forego the aid of the sacraments, as tending to
+superstitious bondage. And that some even of the clergy led gross and
+scandalous lives, we have Saint Gildas to witness.
+
+The day of the synod was hot to oppression. From early morning until
+past noon, one after another, bishop and priest addressed the
+gathering. There was as much embroidered rhetoric, impassioned
+argument, and brilliant, aimless quotation as always abound wherever
+the Cymry are met together; but to no one came the trenchant words that
+would sever the knots of their problems. As for the greatest among
+them, Dyfrig, and Deiniol, and Gildas, they seemed tongue-tied by the
+heavy weather, and hopelessly dreary.
+
+Then said Dyfrig the aged saint:
+
+"One who was made bishop by the Patriarch of Caer Salem is not present
+amongst us, a man who is eloquent, full of grace, and approved in
+religion, who has spread the Gospel far and wide in the desert regions
+of Britain, and has thoroughly purged the pagan land of Dyfed: David
+the son of Sandde, of Mynyw in Pebidiog. Let us send for him."
+
+Gildas, Dyfrig, and Deiniol, and the young Aidan, sought and found
+David, and to Brefi hill they led him. Now the sides of the hill were
+white as a flowering orchard with the bleached garments of the priests
+and bishops who crowded thereon, and for a mile or more on every hand
+stretched the great throng of the people. When David came among them,
+the holy men made a pile of their cloaks, satchels, and books that he
+might mount upon it, for he was a short man (they say three cubits in
+height). So he stood up before them in all his greatness, and he seemed
+to tower high above them all.
+
+He spoke to them in his voice of silver; he smote at error with strong
+strokes, which called forth both tears and laughter; he pleaded sweetly
+with the recalcitrant; his arguments were sound, his metaphors lively
+and concise. How can it be supposed, said he, that the nature of man
+can of itself engender righteousness to salvation? He told of his own
+laborious days: of his long discipleship with Illtyd; his missionary
+journeys throughout the west of Britain; his struggle, scarcely ended,
+with hostile princes and heedless people in his native province; his
+temptations, contests, watchings, and privations; his experiences as a
+ruler of religious and a trainer of youth. "If a man glorify his will,
+there follows pride; and pride drops dead in the presence of God mocked
+and crucified!"
+
+Then he talked of discipline, of the need of it in human life, and of
+how it must be loving and carefully contrived, that the heart of the
+delinquent be not hardened.
+
+Of those who listened, not one moved from his place until the end of
+David's discourse, and scarcely one stirred hand or foot. And some
+there were who saw a spirit near the saint, like to a dove, with
+gleaming bill, who sometimes perched upon his shoulder and whispered in
+his ear. And to many in that assembly his words brought comfort entire
+and ease from mental strife, and left in their hearts a pathway of
+peace and light.
+
+They acclaimed him with rapturous tongues; far and wide they noised it
+that David of Mynyw was the treasure of the Cymry, the prince of all
+the saints of Britain. Gildas muttered congratulations, and hurried
+away to his interminable writing. His heart was not free from envy for
+a little while.
+
+As David was leaving the synod, he heard the sound of heartbroken sobs
+from a little gathering upon the banks of the Teify. It was a poor
+woman lamenting by the body of her son.
+
+"Dewi, Dewi!" she cried, "have pity upon my affliction! He was my only
+little weakly child, and I have striven so sorely to rear him! God
+cannot reave him from me. Entreat Him for me, Dewi Sant!"
+
+The tears rose to David's eyes as these sorrowful words were uttered;
+he knelt down by the body, and began to rub the hands and the feet, and
+to pray aloud in this wise.
+
+"O Lord, my God, who didst descend to this world from the bosom of the
+Father for us sinners, that Thou mightest redeem us from the jaws of
+the old enemy, have pity on this widow, and give life to her only son,
+that Thy Name may be magnified in all the earth!"
+
+He felt the limbs growing gradually warmer beneath his touch, and he
+continued to pray, and to call upon the boy in tender, soothing tones.
+By and by the eyelids flickered; then the boy opened his eyes, raised
+himself for the space of a second, and looked full into the eyes of
+David. They gave him wine, and life was secured to him.
+
+When they had escaped from the grateful outpourings of the mother,
+David said to Teilo:
+
+"Brother, an awful thing is death! For after death, we come no more;
+and judgment follows. It has been given to me once or twice to behold
+the Angel drawing near to those who themselves were unaware; and power
+has even then come upon me that I might put them in mind of their
+latter end. I pray often, Teilo, that neither thou, nor I, nor any of
+the brethren, nor any of all my beloved people, may be cut off without
+timely warning."
+
+Wherefore, say the ancients, is the Corpse Candle foretelling
+dissolution oftenest seen in the diocese of Mynyw.
+
+The next day, before they had travelled many miles, earth and sky took
+on a mysterious aspect. A heavy blight hung in the air; and a strange,
+watery column, with its head in the clouds, trailed over the earth,
+discharging raindrops which were hot to the touch and yet struck chill.
+A few men and women fell sick by the roadside; their bodies shrivelled
+and turned yellow, and in a few hours they died. David remained among
+the sufferers, nursing and consoling. The Yellow Plague hourly
+increased its ravages. Some recounted that the advance of the pest
+could be seen in the form of a female spirit--a frightful hag,
+hairless, with flavescent features and long pointed teeth, who clutched
+at her prey. Ere many days, the land was choked with unburied corpses.
+
+"Maelgwn the King is dead!" they told David.
+
+"Then is Gildas content!" said he. "Hasten we to Mynyw."
+
+In Dyfed, for all his loving zeal, he could not dwell long, because of
+the Plague which followed him there. So David and all his surviving
+brethren and all the inhabitants of Pebidiog whom he could gather
+together set sail for Lesser Britain. There he laboured greatly for
+five years and more at Leon, Saint Ivy, and Loquivy, preaching the word
+of God and founding churches and houses of religion.
+
+
+In the last year but one of the fifth century after Christ, when David
+was a very old man, Cynyr son of Cyngen, a scholar in Teilo's Côr upon
+the Taff, being unable to bear the stern rule of Teilo, fled from the
+college and wandered until he came upon Llywel the hermit of Selyf in
+Brycheiniog, who entertained him and kept him under his protection. And
+a little after Llywel died, and Cynyr dwelt still in the former cell of
+Llywel. That year was cold and frosty, and the fruits of the earth were
+nipped in the ear and in the bud. At the autumn equinox great storms of
+wind and rain arose, followed early by snow, and the flocks of the men
+of Brycheiniog were lost and starved for the most part. As soon as the
+thaw set in at the beginning of the next year, Llyr Merini, lord of
+Talgarth, laid claim to a cantref in the lordship of Rhaint son of
+Brychan, his wife's brother, as belonging to his own tribe, and
+publicly reproached King Rhaint with being the cause of the late
+disastrous weather through his harbourage of an apostate religious. The
+men of Llyr fell upon the lands of Rhaint, seized his men, broke their
+ploughs, and carried off the little grain they had ready to sow. Some
+of the seed-corn with which they could not escape they cast into the
+stony bed of the brook Cilieni. Rhaint and his people proceeded to
+fitting reprisals. And so things continued until the spring had come
+indeed. It was then that David of Mynyw, as he journeyed through
+Brycheiniog, declared his will to judge between the warring princes.
+
+On the morning of the first of May, a white-robed monk, with horny
+hands, and a tanned face whose pointed nose and patient brown eyes made
+it resemble the face of a dog, stood in the dingle through which the
+Clydach flows. Upon a gradually-sloping bank, where primroses and small
+blue violets bloomed in the damp and mossy grass, he had just spread
+three sheep-skins, and was regarding their position with doubtful look.
+He appeared oblivious of two other persons who occupied the little glen
+at the same moment, though these were no less than Llyr Merini, lord of
+Talgarth, and his wife Gwen, daughter of King Brychan. At a seemly
+distance were their household attendants.
+
+"O Lily, servant of David," said Llyr, "I have heard that he thy master
+holds the keys that do lock and unlock the portals of heaven!"
+
+"Very righteous saint is David," replied Lily. He did no more than
+glance at the lord and lady.
+
+"Surely he does consider that the perjury of one tonsured to God is of
+all things the most abominable?"
+
+"David has a key to all of heaven that is in the world," David's
+servant continued. "Where he scattereth, there does the good corn
+spring. When the Yellow Plague had run its course, and we returned from
+Llydaw, a crushing labour was before him, for men were lax and weary,
+and religion wellnigh forgotten. But this task he fulfilled, for the
+blessing of God was upon him, and he and his disciples journeyed far
+afield, hither to Brycheiniog, and into Gwent, Ewyas, and Erging, and
+sowed the seed of the Gospel in plenty. Every holy thing does David
+foster and honour. And he reads plainly the hearts of men, and traces
+the springs of their actions. A fountain of justice is the heart of
+David."
+
+"Many fair churches owns David. Loves he not gifts of gold, and silver,
+and polished jewels," said Gwen eagerly, "for the adornment of his
+foundations? They say that the praise of beauty is ever upon his lips."
+
+"This will not do for my master!" cried Lily, snatching one of the
+fleeces from the ground. "How can he, whose years are ninety and more,
+huddle upon the moss like a lithe-limbed stripling? He must have a seat
+conformable to his dignity, myn Duw!"
+
+"See, see!" Gwen cried. "A heap of logs for the great May fire! We will
+fetch one of them, husband, for the use of the powerful saint."
+
+They carried a log between them to the foot of the bank. Lily approved
+it, after scrutiny, and spread one of his cherished sheepskins upon it.
+Then David came slowly into the glen towards them, leaning upon the arm
+of King Rhaint of the Red Eyes. With a quick gesture of greeting to all
+there assembled, he seated himself in the tribunal prepared for him. He
+seemed smaller than ever now, for his form was bowed and his skin was
+abundantly wrinkled, and all his life and energy centred in his
+gleaming dark-hazel eyes.
+
+Teilo, abbot-bishop of Llandaff, and Ismael, one of David's own
+bishops, were with him, and some of their attendant monks; and the
+courtiers and fighting-men of Rhaint followed. A few of the villagers
+had made their way to the place of meeting.
+
+"Speak you now your causes, my children," said David, in his clarion
+tones, which the years had scarcely weakened.
+
+"This one has attacked my lands," cried Rhaint, "and has broken the
+ploughs of my men, and destroyed their valuable corn-seed!"
+
+"This one," cried Llyr, "keeps from me a cantref which was my father's
+and the father of my father's; and Brycheiniog brings forth no
+sustenance, for Rhaint mab Brychan protects the renegade Cynyr!"
+
+Two armed men, shouting and threatening, dragged a youth in monastic
+garb, tonsured, his countenance pallid and his eyes dim with watching
+and fasting, to the feet of the bishops.
+
+"Here is Cynyr, between my men," said Rhaint. "Examine him, father,
+upon his matter."
+
+"O stinging viper!" exclaimed Teilo. "Obedience didst thou vow to me in
+my college upon the Taff! And thou didst manifest such notable
+dispositions in the early days of thy pupilage!"
+
+"May the penalty be heavy and bitter, we pray you, holy bishops," said
+Gwen, "that the curse be lifted from us. Always very ill fortune dogs
+the breach of a vow!"
+
+"Lady, I would have silence about me," said David, "that I may pray Our
+Lord for grace to discern rightly between Teilo my son and my brother
+and Llywel who is in Paradise." ... After a brief pause: "What pleadest
+thou, Cynyr? By whose permission hast thou betaken thyself to the life
+of a solitary? Wilt thou confess thy sins, and return to the faithful
+congregation?"
+
+"Dewi mab Sandde, with you will I go," the young man replied.
+
+"With me? but not with Teilo? Speak out thy mind, and fear not."
+
+"Not with Teilo. His rule is too harsh: I cannot bow myself to such
+authority."
+
+"Thou must go with my brother Teilo, being his pupil and servant."
+
+"I will abide here in Llywel's cell, and gather about me my own Côr,
+and rule it. Or I will live beneath the ordinance of David. Let him[10]
+not cast me away; for of all saints he is the most efficacious! I would
+be a holy man, even as he is. But, look you, the legions of Satan do
+compass me about, and make hideous my nights and my days. There is also
+an evil, fair woman, Indeg daughter of Maenarch, who plagues me
+whenever I do meet with her; and her spirit is with me continually, to
+trouble me, when she herself is absent! Pray for me, for the love of
+the Lord!"
+
+          [10] David. Cynyr uses the third person singular of courtesy.
+
+"O Cynyr," said David meditatively, "hast thou the gift of obedience, I
+wonder?... Thou hast taken thy final vows before the Holy Sacrament?"
+he added suddenly.
+
+Cynyr hung his head, and grew even paler than he had been before.
+
+"No, no. My consecration should have been at the Paschal Feast of last
+year. I fled Llandaff the week before. This I told to blessed Llywel
+before he took me in."
+
+"Why, Teilo," said the bishop of Mynyw, "I had heard that this Cynyr
+had deserted the furrow that he had undertaken to plough. Where is the
+truth in this?"
+
+"My overseer of the disciples did speak of his consecration," was the
+other bishop's answer.
+
+"Thou hast said that his vows were taken?"
+
+"I did think that they were," said Teilo.
+
+"Llandaff has done the youth great wrong!" cried David.
+
+A dull red crept into the face of Teilo, but he did not utter a word.
+
+"Come you here, Llyr and Rhaint," David said sternly. "This is my
+judgment, princes, upon you. It is written that cursed is he who
+oppresses the poor and helpless. Ye have brought contention and
+bloodshed to pass. Your people are slain, or wounded, or they pine in
+captivity; those that remain unhurt and free are starving, their fields
+being waste; and great is your guilt, for their livelihood is given
+into your charge! Ye have just heard the conclusion of your affair.
+Cynyr son of Cyngen is no vowed monk; how can heaven have sent a blight
+upon your lands for his sake? Greed it was that made Llyr to plunder
+the Lordships of Rhaint. And Rhaint has hated his brother, though I say
+not that his hatred had no cause. Ye two shall swear to be friends, and
+to keep peace, and maintain good government. And half of Selyf shall be
+thine, O Rhaint, for Brychan thy father did win it in fair fight; and
+half shall be Llyr's, for thy sister is his wife, and he is thy
+brother. So shall the lords of Gwent not spoil Brycheiniog when its
+chief men are divided."
+
+The princes exclaimed together:
+
+"Wondrous his judgment! There is content we are!"
+
+"Gwen daughter of Brychan, wilt thou swear to this also?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" the Lady Gwen replied. "No love of warfare have I!"
+
+"In the name of God, ye do promise to hold to peace and fellowship?"
+
+"In the name of God, we do promise to hold to peace and fellowship one
+with another!"
+
+"Prosperity be upon you, and upon your children and your children's
+children, and upon all that is yours and theirs, while ye do observe
+this solemn compact!" said David then. "And if so be ye scorn and break
+it, may lightning and storm devastate your territories, may sickness
+and famine stalk throughout them, and may rottenness take hold upon
+your bodies! Amen, amen!"
+
+Rhaint and Llyr held each other's hands and shook them up and down;
+they almost danced upon the springy sod in the exhilaration that their
+reactive emotion had quickened.
+
+"I am old donkey, Llyr!" shouted Rhaint. "I forgive thee thy ravages.
+My people will have no bread this year; but doubtless thou wilt
+provide?"
+
+"Donkey and cuckoo am I!" roared Llyr. "I will feed thy people. We will
+make a great feast to-night, and forget our differences."
+
+And they two and Gwen sat down upon the bank, and laughed and gossipped
+together.
+
+Cynyr flung himself at David's feet.
+
+"Forsake me not!" he wailed. "I am as firmly resolved as ever to lead
+the life of a saint. Let the little holy one of Mynyw be aiding to me!"
+
+The abstraction of age was upon David; he sat gazing at and through the
+kneeling youth.
+
+Lily approached him, carrying something square wrapped in a cloth.
+
+"What wouldst thou say, my servant?" the bishop murmured. "Well, well,
+indeed, what hast thou there?"
+
+"My father's official," answered Lily. He removed the cloth, and
+disclosed a book, with cover worn and water-stained, and laid it upon
+his master's knees.
+
+David turned the pages, caressing them with his numb old fingers.
+
+"Once I was harsh with a boy,"[11] said he. "And my harshness was
+because of this blemished volume. I thank thee, Lily, for bringing that
+sin of anger to my mind. The child, whom I had permitted to read my
+office-book, left it out of doors upon a rainy day. For penance I sent
+him to lie at full length upon the sand of the shore at Porth Mawr; and
+in the press of business I forgot for many hours where I had bidden him
+bide. When at last I ran to find him, the waves were licking his body,
+and half-drowned was he.... My son," the saint continued, addressing
+Cynyr, "hast thou not told me that the direst of thy assailant demons
+is a living woman, and no bloodless spirit?"
+
+          [11] St. Aidan, bishop of Ferns.
+
+"Indeg daughter of Maenarch pesters and torments me, so that the
+thought of her is an ever-present temptation. Great hate and scorn has
+she for me, and her strength she spends in striving for my downfall.
+She does come bringing bannuts,[12] for she knows I love to eat them!"
+
+          [12] Walnuts.
+
+"My father," Lily interposed, "they say that the girl is here."
+
+"Well, indeed, now," said David, "let her come forth."
+
+Several women pushed a maiden into the middle of the ring formed by the
+assembly. She seemed to have been weeping, for her eyelids were
+flushed; she shook her dark hair over her face, and clutched her hands
+together and plucked at a ring she wore.
+
+"Daughter," said David, "why do you torment and pester Cynyr son of
+Cyngen, a hermit seeking God?"
+
+Her lips moved. Some thought she whispered hoarsely:
+
+"I do not!"
+
+"Dost thou hate Cynyr?"
+
+"I hate him in my heart!" cried she.
+
+"I will hang him from yonder ash-tree," said David with a mocking
+twinkle, "to-morrow at dawn."
+
+"No, no!" she shrieked. "Mercy, mercy! Holy David, there is cruel he
+is! Spare him--spare Cynyr----"
+
+"Peace, woman!" David's face had become a mask of fury, but his voice
+was mellifluous. "Nothing will thy tongue avail thee. Thou hast wrought
+devilish magic, and surely we shall slay thee as a witch!"
+
+"Myn Duw!" shouted Cynyr the novice, tossing his arms on high. "Do not
+so! I was mistaken--there is mad I have been. David has cleared the
+covering from my eyes! I love Indeg...."
+
+"And thou, Indeg," said David softly, "dost thou love Cynyr?"
+
+Said she, more softly still:
+
+"I like him ... as well as I like any man."
+
+"Our Lord God lays hold upon His own," cried David, "and, Teilo, there
+is no need to grab souls for him. Rhaint mab Brychan, wilt thou adopt
+this Cynyr into thy tribe, when he shall have sojourned with thee the
+accustomed number of years? He will make a brave fighting-man, though
+not in the picked army of heaven."
+
+"Yes, indeed!" replied Rhaint the King. "I am David's servant, to do
+his bidding."
+
+"Now, upon blessed Llywel's land, where he lived and died," the saint
+continued, "we will set a new church, and Llywel, Teilo, and I, we
+three, will own it in perpetuity. And of the three thou, Teilo, shalt
+have the pre-eminence. Willingly wilt thou fast forty days upon this
+spot, for our church's hallowing. A small omission troubles thy
+conscience, I know. Children," turning from the Abbot of Llandaff to
+the man and woman before him, "I would see all well with you before I
+depart. Give me thy ring, Indeg."
+
+She put her ring in the palm of David.
+
+"It is not yet the noon-hour," said he. "Lily, where is my altar, and
+the other things I now require?"
+
+"Here is your altar, my father," was Lily's reply, "and the sacred
+elements, look you!--ready for the swearing of oaths."
+
+He brought David's portable altar and placed it before him, and set
+bread and wine upon it.
+
+David rose to his feet, and, supported by Teilo and Ismael, said mass
+as it was celebrated for a marriage.
+
+"Cynyr," said he in the British tongue, "wilt thou have Indeg as thy
+wife?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" Cynyr answered.
+
+"And, Indeg, wilt thou have Cynyr as thy husband?"
+
+She nodded her head several times.
+
+"Then I declare before all these, men and women of the Plant y Cymry,
+that ye be man and wife together. And, Cynyr, thou shalt love Indeg as
+long as her life shall last; and thou, Indeg, shalt love Cynyr and obey
+him. The blessing of God is upon you; and ye shall go with my blessing,
+and with the blessing of Teilo."
+
+Hand in hand the lovers wandered away over the young, green grass.
+
+"Sixty days and no less will I fast before I consecrate Llywel's
+church," cried Teilo, his native generosity breaking forth, "and those
+two shall have my prayers at each day's offering!"
+
+Gwhir, Teilo's bard at Llandaff, unslung his harp from his shoulder,
+and struck a triumphant prelude from the strings. He began to chant the
+praises of his master:
+
+    "Thrice a hundred servants of Christ does Teilo feed in his Bangor.
+    The fierce old dragon he drove to the seas--potent is our father.
+    Miracles are all about the little ones of Teilo.
+
+    "With Brynach aforetime did angels company in the wilderness about
+        Nant Nimer.
+    No harvest had Llandaff but flower of the broom, the gold-finch of
+        the meadows.
+    Surely white messengers were at hand for the succour of the Côr of
+        Teilo!"
+
+David listened at first with a slight frown, but by the end of the
+second triad his countenance had softened.
+
+"Truth governs the tongue of Gwhir," said he. "Hearken! there is also
+music over yonder. Give me thy arm, my Ismael--I would hear the
+children sing."
+
+They left the dingle, David and his followers, and ascended a gentle
+slope that led to an open stretch of level, sheep-cropped sward. Here
+stunted cowslips grew, and daisies, and a few stray tufts of thyme
+greeted the footsteps of each comer with their tonic perfume. Young men
+and girls, partnered in couples, were dancing about a blossoming
+hawthorn. At their shoulders and wrists, their knees or their ankles,
+coloured ribbons fluttered; and as they sprang, with outstretched arms,
+to touch the tree-trunk they hissed between tongue and palate. A man
+played shrilly upon a pipe, and a number of elderly women, seated upon
+the ground, were singing:
+
+    "Arianrod's battlements light the pathless waste of the sky.
+    Oak for power, and ash for aid, and birch for constancy!
+    Bird calls to bird that gone is winter, the time of hunger and
+        fear.
+    Bless the thorntree, maidens and boys, and bless the spring of
+        the year!"
+
+David watched them indulgently, for the days of the Druids were far
+off. When their dance was over, they rushed in a body to his feet,
+begging his blessing, and crying out compliments, sincere though
+extravagant, upon his sanctity and his fame.
+
+"Dewi Sant! Dewi Sant! Father of the Saints of Britain! May he live
+amongst us for ever!"
+
+"As God wills," said he, as he turned to leave them. "Beautiful the May
+tree--more beautiful the groves of Paradise. There is a hard task, my
+brothers, for Ismael."
+
+His companions remembered well what he had spoken of Ismael in two
+months less than a year from that hour.[13]
+
+          [13] Ismael succeeded David as Bishop of Mynyw.
+
+One February day in the year Six Hundred and One, many folk, rich and
+poor, flocked to the walls of Ty Ddewi, David's monastic enclosure. A
+rumour had gone abroad that the saint had had heavenly premonition that
+his end was near at hand. So, weeping and lamenting, these men and
+women came from the regions around, crying upon their bishop to take
+their sadness from them. Within Ty Ddewi there was a wonderful silence
+and peace; and in the streets of Mynyw were heard the flutterings of
+invisible wings.
+
+"Look you, this mourning must cease, now!" said blessed David.
+
+"Well, well, true is what ye have heard. Merry tidings have reached me!
+In a little while from now, on the first day of March, I must go hence
+to the place where is life without end, rest without labour, and joy
+without sorrow--where is health and no pain, youth and no old age,
+peace and no contention, music and no discord. I charge you pray
+always, in all your undertakings, spiritual and bodily; and be good,
+little people, for the best usage is goodness."
+
+His last words on earth were just as simple:
+
+"Take me with Thee!"
+
+
+
+
+Star of Mercia
+
+    "_Hic regina detestatur
+    Amplexus illicitos;
+    Spreta mortem machinatur
+    Ob amores vetitos._"
+
+
+"Nay, Ethelfrith, bide thou here in quiet!" said Cynerith. "Tush, girl!
+art no child now, at sixteen years old! Why, thou hast witnessed the
+death of many a fledgling rook. The sun must not stain thy cheeks this
+day, and that thou knowest! The young man cannot now be afar off, God
+help! Nay, good lack! I will not have such pouting! It is my behest
+that thou stay at home."
+
+In reality, the Lady Ethelfrith could scarcely be said to pout; and she
+knew her mother too well to venture a protest. The party set
+forth--Offa the King, the imperious Cynerith his Queen, their son the
+Atheling, and Eadburh their handsome elder daughter, wife of Beorhtric,
+King of Wessex, and now on a visit to her parents' court--and the young
+Ethelfrith, debarred from the sport, climbed to the upper room which
+was her own sleeping-chamber, and looked out over the shire of
+Hereford.
+
+If she leant out and turned sideways, her window commanded a view of
+the highway that ran by the gates of King Offa's palace of Sutton. She
+peered idly in that direction, without emotion of any sort--even anger,
+or curiosity. Below her lay the orchard-close, bright green under foot,
+and rosy overhead with the vernal glory of the apple-trees. It was the
+fairest day of the fair month of May; but its beauty awoke in
+Ethelfrith a dull, continuous pain. She was seldom happy, poor little
+princess: she thought much, but there was no one to whom she could tell
+her ideas, or who would give her sympathy. The King was always
+occupied; her brother was as spare of speech as herself; her mother was
+the Queen and unapproachable, except when she jested coarsely; and she
+feared her sister, the Queen of Wessex. There were many puzzling things
+in her everyday world which had only just begun to claim her attention.
+
+She was a very fairy-like being, so small and slim and fragile; her
+complexion was as delicate as the apple-blossom; she had soft eyes,
+grey as the plumage of a dove and a soft mouth with an obstinate curve;
+her hair was of the purest, palest gold, just saved from being flaxen
+and colourless. A strange child, surely, for those two robust persons,
+Offa and Cynerith. Just now she was wondering why they had not told her
+before yesterday of Ethelbert of East Anglia, his coming and its
+purpose. Every one about the palace had known of it but herself. She
+had overheard what had been whispered to a servant of her sister's from
+Wessex, in the orchard, upon the foregoing afternoon, by one of her
+father's henchmen, whose eyes had shed a marvellously tender light
+while he gazed upon her, King Offa's daughter.
+
+"She is the star and flower of all Mercia," this henchman had said,
+"and she is to wed Lord Ethelbert, the star of the Eastern Angles."
+
+Although she had remarked it, the expression of the speaker's
+countenance had in no wise stirred her sensibilities; she had been a
+little ruffled in temper, perhaps--no more. For Ethelfrith had no
+affinities with the courtiers; the overfed, voluptuous women and their
+satellites filled her with a cold disgust. The nuns of Marden, she
+thought, led peaceful lives, and bore in their faces a truly joyous
+light. Yet she had no longing for the seclusion of a religious house.
+She would sometimes, however--though very rarely--go to visit the
+sisters and spend a day in their company. The reverend mother was a
+motherly woman indeed; she was very gentle with the princess, and
+careful to refrain in her presence from any allusion to her life or her
+kinsfolk that might dash her girlish, half-childish dreams. When the
+maiden returned to her ordinary surroundings, how the glare and the
+chatter tired her head and oppressed her whole dainty frame! So it came
+about that the Lady Ethelfrith was little accounted by the great folk
+of Mercia: she was always silent, usually prim, and sometimes brusque;
+and to some she seemed a cross, spoilt child, and to others, witless.
+
+Then there had been her mother's half-teasing words of the evening
+before; that was really all she knew! At the thought of King Ethelbert,
+a sharper pain than the ache of loneliness amid natural beauties struck
+through her heart. She remembered the Queen's parting injunctions. Her
+childhood was surely at an end. This Ethelbert would be coming by the
+highway to the halls of Sutton before long.
+
+Impatiently she turned away from the dusty road. Her eyes lighted upon
+the flowering gorse-bushes that blazed upon the outskirts of an upland
+covert in the distance. There ran through her head a riddle of her
+nursery days, couched in the rhyming metre which the Mercians had begun
+to imitate from the neighbouring Welsh.
+
+                  "Yellow and green,
+                  Sharp and keen,
+                  Grows in the mene.
+    The King can't ride it, no more can the Queen."
+
+Song after song, carol after carol, lay after lay, came tripping
+after--some of God and the saints and ghostly blessedness; some of love
+and mirth; others of woe. A smile hovered about the lips of Ethelfrith.
+She loved songs--they were often her only solace.
+
+She would walk in the garden--no, she would not. The sun was too
+hot--the wind was too cold. She had just decided to wile away the time
+by strumming upon her cither, when she descried figures approaching
+along the road. They were horsemen, many horsemen; a mighty train. And
+there, unmistakably, was the banner of some great one. It was not a
+lord of Mercia, nor a lord of Wessex! Ethelfrith rushed from her room,
+down the stairs, and headlong into the orchard-close, in a fit of wild
+shyness.
+
+There was her waiting-maid, and there were several aged ladies who
+cared not to look on at the shooting of the rooks. All confused, she
+stammered to them of her surmise--how that the King of East Anglia was
+even at their gates. What should they do, with her parents away?
+
+"Why, lady, there is no need for fear," said one kind-hearted matron.
+Even as she spoke a servant appeared in the orchard doorway, ushering
+with every token of respect a company of nobly-attired, travel-stained
+men. In another moment the little group beneath the trees had become
+aware of the leader of the party--a young man, very lithe, very
+muscular, with an energetic open countenance, and the bluest, brightest
+eyes that Ethelfrith had ever seen. Their glance wandered from one to
+another of the women, and came to rest upon King Offa's youngest
+daughter.
+
+It seemed to her that the universe whirled around her: she had to
+strain at her insteps in order to keep herself upright. Then she heard
+him saying:
+
+"O lady, forgive me that I know not whom I should greet! Do I speak to
+the high and mighty lady, the Lady Ethelfrith of Mercia?"
+
+She curtsied, and hung her head; she was pallid now, who had been
+crimson the instant before; her tongue refused to utter audible sound.
+
+"I am Ethelbert of East Anglia," continued the stranger. "Here am I at
+King Offa's bidding. They have told you of my coming?"
+
+"Indeed, I am Ethelfrith," said she. "I do greatly grieve--my father
+and mother.... Oh, my lord, will ye not be seated? I had forgotten....
+Ye will deem me unmannerly...."
+
+"Nay, lady, surely nay," said Ethelbert earnestly; and he seated
+himself beside her upon a bench built round the trunk of an ancient
+apple-tree. He had begun to address her once more in his kindly tones,
+when a bustling noise reached them from within the palace, and in
+another moment the whole court was about them. Offa, the welcoming
+host, Cynerith, with her ready, witty talk. And Eadburh, whose person
+and taste in adornment made her give the effect of a full-blown poppy.
+Ethelfrith felt faded and nerveless beside her. She shrank into the
+background.
+
+"In a good hour!" cried Offa. "Ye have spoken with my little daughter,
+I see: no need to make you known one to another. I trow ye are weary
+from your wayfaring. Come with me, and ye shall bathe you, and have
+meat and drink. And then, Ethelbert Etheldred's son, I will show you my
+horses, my hounds, and my hawks, and ye shall say whether ye have other
+such in East Anglia."
+
+And they all departed into the house, leaving the princess alone.
+
+She, pondering dazedly, thought that a thunderstorm had broken.
+
+But the sun was shining as it had shone all day: the little stream
+which bounded the orchard from the meadows beyond was as blue as the
+sky whose colour it borrowed. The earth beneath her feet seemed to pant
+forth the scent, sweet and languorous, of white wild violets. A cuckoo
+shouted insistently. The air was vibrant with the voices of created
+things. A glimmering sulphur-moth came fluttering before her.
+Ethelfrith began to run. About and about she chased it, screaming in
+her excitement; and presently she fell on her knees, panting, by the
+brookside, her arms clasped around a clump of meadowsweet and
+forget-me-not.
+
+Summer was summer once again.
+
+
+They were all upon a green knoll, sheltered by ash and elm. They had
+flown their hawks with some success, and were now enjoying shade and
+repose, while their attendants laid the midday meal before them.
+
+Ethelfrith looked often at Ethelbert. He was listening somewhat
+impatiently to Eadburh, whose florid beauty was evidently little to his
+taste.
+
+"Lord King," she was saying, "ye seem to me in no wise a monkish man. I
+thought, from what I had heard, that surely ye would betake you to the
+life of the cloister, or else bind yourself to all of a saint's life in
+your kingly halls. I beseech you say, had ye ever such a meaning?"
+
+"They were my youthful thoughts," said Ethelbert. "But I have put them
+far from me. A king's life is for a king, and no monk's life. Besides,
+I am the last of my father's house."
+
+He rose, and crossed to Ethelfrith, offering to pour mead into her
+drinking-horn.
+
+Now Cynerith had looked often and long at Ethelbert since his coming.
+
+"A harmless boy!" she remarked to her daughter Eadburh; and then she
+said "Fore heaven! the handsomest boy I have seen this many a year!"
+
+Eadburh laughed her horse-laugh.
+
+"Are all things to thy liking, fair lady?" said Ethelbert to
+Ethelfrith.
+
+"Why, greatly to my liking, O King!" answered she.
+
+Suddenly Cynerith called out, "Child, where is thine amethyst brooch?
+Is it lost, then, thou naughty one?"
+
+"My lady," said the girl, trembling, "I did give it.... Ye saw the
+beggars. One there was that might have been a leper; and there were
+little children. O mother, be not wroth! I could not do else--woeful
+was their crying. I sent them unto the sisters, who will feed them and
+care for them this night; and I gave my brooch unto the woman with the
+baby in her arms."
+
+"Fie upon thee, fie upon thee!" cried the Queen. "Is my daughter
+altogether a fool? I will not have thee go among such filthy folk, to
+touch them belike! Precious stones give I not thee for this!"
+
+"All beggars and such scum should be whipped and branded," said
+Eadburh, little guessing that in years to come she herself would roam a
+foreign city,[14] begging her bread. "Lord father, think ye not that it
+would be well that when a bondman have not work enough, or when he
+feign himself a cripple, his lord might sell him beyond seas? So do I
+often tell King Beorhtric."
+
+          [14] Pavia.
+
+"Why, why," Ethelbert broke in, "I miss my ring of onyx!"
+
+"Was it loose upon thy finger?" said Queen Cynerith. "Often in
+unhooding a hawk----"
+
+"Nay," said he, smiling, "I do think it is where the Lady Ethelfrith's
+sweet charity would have it be!"
+
+Cynerith bit her lip.
+
+"Have ye indeed bestowed your ring upon the beggars?" Ethelfrith
+whispered.
+
+"Surely, aye," answered he. "The sad, sorry souls! These do fear lest
+they be besmirched by fellowship with the mean and ailing. But I think
+that a king, before all men in the earth ought to be lowly." Bending
+towards her, he said softly, "Tell me now, are all things truly to thy
+liking?"
+
+"Oh, my lord...." said she. Here, amongst all these people--before all
+her kindred!
+
+"'High and mighty' I greeted thee," he pursued. "Dearest, I knew not
+then to whom I spake. 'Soft and lovely lady' hail I thee now!"
+
+He handed her down the slope and together they wandered slowly through
+the fields.
+
+The royal party followed immediately, and they proceeded, mostly on
+foot, along the path which leads through the lush meadow-land.
+Presently Cynerith called the King of East Anglia to her, and they in
+their turn headed the company.
+
+"May-tide is God's gift to lovers," she said. "The Queen's words are
+sooth," was his rejoinder.
+
+"Hearken to the live things, and to the birds," said Cynerith, and her
+eyes were languishing. "Ethelbert, a woman's heart blooms blithe and
+tender in this month of May!"
+
+Eadburh looked her sister from head to foot.
+
+"Art not a fine woman," she remarked. "Belike thou wilt yet grow."
+
+"Think ye I must needs become a fine woman?" said the other, smiling.
+
+"Men like them," replied Eadburh. "All men," she added, with a meaning
+glance towards Ethelbert.
+
+"What wouldst thou hint?" cried Ethelfrith; but Queen Eadburh was gone
+from her side.
+
+The younger sister was not easy in heart or mind. Lately she had become
+aware of circumstances which she did not care to think on; and now, her
+sister's words! She was used to the moods of her mother; but there was
+also Sexwolf, the young lord who had been the Queen's constant
+companion for two years--he was full of smouldering fury, it was
+evident, and would speak to no one. Her brother was near at hand, but
+he always snubbed her when she talked inquisitively; he would be no
+help. There was thane Edric, the honest old man, seneschal of the
+court; she was certain he would tell her plainly anything he thought
+she ought to know. Why should she not take her perplexities to him?
+Alack! here was Eadburh again! Her she could not question. She would
+consult old Edric later on.
+
+"Is a woman ever too old to love?" said Cynerith the Queen.
+
+Ethelbert looked up quickly, surprised and a little amused. They were
+walking along the edge of a springing cornfield.
+
+"Look, the bonny blossoms!" cried she.
+
+She stooped over a patch of poppies, whose bowls seemed to burn with
+liquid scarlet fire. As she did so, her hand brushed against
+Ethelbert's as though by accident.
+
+"Bonny, for sure," answered the young man.
+
+"Pity they have no smell--as it were, no soul. They are rank, too, I
+think. O lady mother, this morning I heard Ethelfrith singing to
+herself...."
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Why, Leofgythe, whither away?" said Ethelfrith.
+
+Said the waiting-maid: "Lady, there is great mirth afoot to-night for
+us of the household. The Queen hath given us leave that we may go to
+the dancing at Aegelstane the Thane's. I beseech you, my lady, that ye
+forget not to comb your locks right thoroughly; they must shine like
+gold for King Ethelbert."
+
+"Good luck go with thee, Leofgythe," cried the Lady gaily. "I would we
+might have dancing too. But I fear me we shall be too few." And she
+passed on up the staircase.
+
+In the palace hall King Ethelbert and Queen Cynerith sat facing one
+another across a little table, playing at chess. All was not well
+between them. The Queen leant very far over the board, and her lips
+were pouting. Her fingers rested lightly upon the head of a chessman.
+Suddenly she withdrew her hand, and launched a side-long look at her
+opponent from beneath drooping lashes. Ethelbert's brow was black, and
+for an instant there appeared in his eyes a glint of loathing.
+
+Then Cynerith surveyed the board once more and played her piece.
+
+It was checkmate.
+
+As by a common impulse, they both rose, making no comment upon the
+game. The Queen was flushed and quivering. Ethelbert bowed to her and
+strode hurriedly from the hall.
+
+Cynerith went then to King Offa's private chamber. The King was there
+alone: he smiled at sight of her, and greeted her lovingly. Cynerith
+stood before him, rapping one foot upon the earthen floor.
+
+"My lord," she burst forth at last, "what will ye do if things fall out
+even so as your dearest wishes be undermined?"
+
+Offa spread wide his hands.
+
+"How now, sweetheart?" he queried, laughing.
+
+"It were well to be ready. If East Anglia become our foe--if Ethelbert
+will not wed with Ethelfrith----?"
+
+"Not wed with Ethelfrith! Not wed my little maid! How, wife, what
+meanest thou?"
+
+"I understand not, for my life," said Cynerith, "which way things are
+faring between them twain! It is my belief that Ethelbert is here to
+pick a quarrel with thee, Offa."
+
+"Tush, woman, woman! I have marked nought of this."
+
+"Thou wilt own that my woman's wit is ever quicker than thine own,
+husband. I think he beareth little love to our daughter, and none to
+thee or me, or any of us. For all he is so mild, and his tongue so
+smooth, he is a man to scheme deep undertakings. Why hath he brought
+with him so great an armed train--greater far than a wedding
+warranteth? Offa, I tell thee this youth will some day spread his sway
+in England, even so far as thou hast spread thine!"
+
+"If I thought he truly scorned my daughter...."
+
+"Shall we let him go forth, husband, wed or unwed? Thou shouldst set
+him straightway in ward, the wheedling knave! or there are other ways,
+maybe!"
+
+"Lady wife," said Offa, "do thou bear in mind that this man is our
+guest!"
+
+"My lord, Ethelbert is young, and as for thee, thou hast looked thy
+last upon the height of thy manhood. And Egbert our son will never be
+the man that thou art. I say, beware! Come tell me now, if so be that
+Ethelbert of East Anglia wriggle from out of this pact he is come to
+make with us--if he make of us laughing-stocks from Iceland unto Caisar
+Charles's court--aye, and beyond--say ye will strike, O Offa of Mercia,
+so that your kingly dignity be upheld in the land!"
+
+"God knoweth I will strike, and right heavily!" cried Offa. "I give my
+word I will not fail thee. But, lady, I hold thee mistaken--all this
+can scarcely be."
+
+And as he was in gleeful humour, he put the matter from his mind, and
+began contentedly to examine and polish his boar-spears. He had
+suffered one or two envious pangs through Ethelbert's youth and vigour.
+Moreover, strong man though he was, he had never been able to bridle
+Cynerith.
+
+Hardly had the Queen left the room than Sexwolf, her neglected
+favourite, sprang out upon her; and bitterly he upbraided her, raging,
+expostulating, pleading, outside the very door of King Offa's cabinet.
+
+"Hold thy tongue, young man!" said she loudly, in her stateliest tones;
+and she swept from before him into the hall, where some were setting
+out the evening meal.
+
+It was a hot evening, even sultry. They opened the doors, and such
+windows as had swinging frames, and the red glow of sunset shone in
+upon them for a brief hour. Though few of their court were to be
+present, they decked themselves that night in their full finery.
+Cynerith, clad in wine-purple, was as handsome, seen by twilight, as
+she had ever been in the days of her prime. Eadburh, in green and
+crimson, was gorgeous and blatant. Ethelfrith wore white, exquisitely
+embroidered with silver and gold.
+
+Star of Mercia was she indeed that night. Eadburh seemed a burning
+brazier by contrast; Cynerith a painted shrew. No more was the Lady
+Ethelfrith silent; merry words flowed from her lips; time and again her
+laughter rippled out, soft and joyous. King Offa began, as was his
+custom, to talk of his wars, and of the stupendous dyke, boundary
+between his dominions and the lands of the wild Welsh, which the March
+folk, at his bidding, had dug in the sweat of their brows; but he soon
+hushed his voice, and listened proudly while his youngest-born told of
+her new-found pleasure in hunting, dancing, and friendly company. Even
+the Atheling, a stalwart, somewhat sullen youth, was seen once or twice
+to smile.
+
+They brought her cither, and she sang them all her store of songs, with
+an art and confidence of which none had ever thought her capable. King
+Ethelbert applauded her and cast fond looks upon her, and at the end of
+every ditty he prayed her for more.
+
+By and by, when the light faded and the torches were kindled, Offa the
+King began to yawn, and to doze in his chair. The Queen then conversed
+apart with Ethelbert. She bore herself meekly towards him, was innocent
+and child-like in manner and speech. Presently Offa awoke. His wife was
+beside him, bearing a brimming tumbler.
+
+"What--what--sweetheart?" said he.
+
+"It is mine own brew that thou lovest so well," Cynerith replied. She
+waited while he drank, and noted how the potion increased his
+drowsiness.
+
+"Husband," she whispered, "I have sure proof that it is even as I
+guessed. He will go hence upon the morrow, leaving us pledges which he
+hath no mind to fulfil. Then will he stir up the men of his own
+kingdom, without doubt, hoping to take thee defenceless in thine old
+age. The hour is ripe, Offa my King! Shall he live to work our
+undoing?"
+
+"I shall be nithing in the eyes of all men," murmured Offa.
+
+"Lo, no man shall know how the end did come about," said the Queen. "I,
+thy wife, will be thy handmaid in this as in all things, aye, and bear
+the blame, if blame be to follow. Trust in me. O son of Woden, it
+profiteth not a man to spare his enemies. Hereafter shall thy sway
+reach from the hills of Wales even unto the eastern sea."
+
+And Offa nodded his head.
+
+She took another cup in her hand, and beckoned to Ethelbert, who rose
+to meet her midmost in the hall.
+
+"We will talk together of the wedding day," said she. "The King leaves
+all such business unto me." Then they drank to one another, very
+gravely, where they stood.
+
+Eadburh, sitting by her sister, nudged her, with sneering lips.
+
+"Let us now to bed, children," cried Cynerith.
+
+"I trow we are all full weary, even as our lord the King."
+
+As she passed out, she said in the ear of a trusted servant: "Gymbert,
+be ready against I need thee!"
+
+Edric the seneschal stayed behind, searching the floor and the tables
+for property mislaid, smothering the torches himself with meticulous
+care. He heard a light step brush across the strewn rushes. Ethelfrith
+stood before him, darkly cloaked and hooded.
+
+"My little hare was ailing this evening," said she. "I might not find
+thee, Edric, though I sought. But even now he is better than I could
+earlier have hoped."
+
+"I will go see him early to-morrow," said Edric, "if ye do think he
+will live through this night." He was a man of few words.
+
+"He will live through the night.... Edric, I have no wish to sleep. I
+have thoughts and fears which break through my rest.... And then ...
+Eadburh said ... at least I do fancy that she meant to say...."
+
+"Her tongue wags ever too fast," Edric rejoined. "Well, lady, what said
+she?"
+
+"It was of my lord King Ethelbert she spake.... I am sorely troubled.
+Meseemeth that the Queen and King Ethelbert love each other not, or
+mayhap.... And there is strife between my mother and Sexwolf.... I hate
+Eadburh!" cried Ethelfrith. "God forgive me!" she added, horrified.
+
+Surprise and interest went far to conquer Edric's wonted reserve. The
+little princess irked him usually; but now--yes, and formerly
+throughout that evening--she showed signs of a spirit that he had never
+suspected to exist in her.
+
+"Listen, lady," said he. "King Ethelbert should go his ways, taking you
+with him. He loveth you dearly, as all may see. Here hath he been three
+weeks, and is no nearer the settlement of that which brought him
+hither. Ye are scarce even a moment together. This is a drear
+betrothal."
+
+"Alack! how can I help?" said she. "Can a maid beg a man to wed her?"
+
+"And fret not yourself too greatly over what Queen Eadburh may say or
+do. Her mind is evil, and all that she looketh upon doth take on for
+her the same ill hue."
+
+"O Edric, good Edric, dear Edric, say to me that all must be well! My
+heart sinks within me. Tell me--tell me truly whether my father's court
+be fair and clean, as I have heretofore dreamed it to be!"
+
+Edric turned away his face, and began to poke, with the staff which he
+always carried, in the rushes beneath a little table standing under one
+of the windows. A faint clink resounded. He stooped and picked up a
+small, finely-wrought key with a handle curiously bent.
+
+"That is my mother's wry-necked key!" exclaimed Ethelfrith. "Great
+store sets she by it. Thou knowest she weareth it ever upon the chain
+at her waist."
+
+"She leant much upon the board this evening, playing at chess with
+Ethelbert," said the old man, "Belike it was rubbed loose, or the chain
+broke."
+
+"It openeth the garden door of the chamber, built down into the earth,
+beneath the Queen's bedroom," the Lady continued. "I have never been
+within, nor hath any that I have heard of. But Gymbert may go
+sometimes: he hath another key like unto this. Once, one of the maids
+did whisper.... But I will not believe it!"
+
+"Neither have I ever seen into that chamber," said Edric the seneschal;
+and both together they uttered the same words:
+
+"This night spake she into the ear of Gymbert, even as she left the
+hall!"
+
+"O child, be strong!" said Edric. He stopped and coughed. "There would
+be no harm," he ventured, "in learning to be strong."
+
+They were both silent for a little while. Then "Take thou the Queen's
+key, Ethelfrith Offa's daughter," said he. "She shall deem it utterly
+lost. It may serve thee at need."
+
+She slipped it into her bosom, and went softly from the room.
+
+
+"God's blood! thou sorry young fool!" cried Offa's wife. "Is this all I
+must hear from thee--I, who have done thee so much honour? By the
+Fiend! thou art right hardy! Thinkest indeed that the man who scorneth
+me shall have my daughter? I am no loser, and Offa and I, we shall
+share thy kingdom!"
+
+She stamped her foot three times, and scarcely had she done so when a
+part of the floor of her bedchamber began quickly to descend, and
+Ethelbert King of the East Angles, who stood upon that part, sank with
+it out of sight.
+
+There followed one or two cries, fierce, but muffled almost to
+extinction, and a thud.
+
+The Queen put her face to the opening, and called, "Gymbert, is all
+done?"
+
+There was no reply. She bent low to listen. Then a piercing sound
+assailed her ears--the voice of a woman, shrieking again and again,
+with gruesome, mechanical regularity.
+
+Another moment, and Cynerith had reached the garden. The outer door of
+this wing, her private door, was open. Upon the threshold stood her
+youngest daughter, in night-rail and hooded cloak.
+
+Gymbert the Queen's thrall rushed at the Lady Ethelfrith, and tried to
+take hold of her. She fought and beat him off, and tottered, shrieking
+still, though more faintly, sobbing and moaning, down the few steep
+steps and towards the middle of the room, where lay a shapeless mass
+from which a pool of crimson was spreading slowly. A flickering lantern
+swung from a hook upon the wall.
+
+Others arrived upon the scene. First came old Edric; then Eadburh, with
+her mass of tawny hair about her face; then Offa, muttering hoarsely;
+and all the inhabitants of the palace thronged to learn what had
+befallen.
+
+Ethelfrith was seated upon the ground, holding Ethelbert's dissevered
+head in her arms, and she rocked herself to and fro, and chanted in a
+far-away tone.
+
+    "Under the leaves, under the leaves,
+    There saw I maidens seven!"
+
+She broke off short, and changed her tune.
+
+    "Then He built Him a bridge of the beams of the sun,
+    And over the water ran He;
+    And the three wealthy wights they followed him after,
+    And drowned they were all three!"
+
+"Come, canst thou riddle me my ridlass?
+
+                    "Yellow and green,
+                    Sharp and keen,
+                    Grows in the mene.
+    The King cannot ride it, no more can the Queen."
+
+"No more can the Queen.... I must mind me to tell my mother that in two
+years and a little more her son will be lying dead and cold. How sister
+Eadburh will storm at what must follow--the fall of our proud house!...
+Heart's dearest, the sun is high in heaven. Why do ye not awake, my
+lord? Do ye not hear the lark singing? Ethelbert, there is blood all
+about thy hair--it is like a crown, Ethelbert!"
+
+Babbling thus and laughing, she was torn away: nor did she ever recover
+her reason, though she lived thereafter thirty years.
+
+
+
+
+Earl Sweyn the Nithing
+
+_Being the Chronicle of Winifred Ebba's daughter_
+
+
+In the first year of King Hardicanute, on the sixth-and-twentieth day
+of May, feast of blessed Augustine, Algive, only child of Aldred,
+sometime thane of Berrington, became by oath-plight nun of the Order of
+blessed Benedict, before the altar of the Abbey-church of Leominster,
+lately builded and begun by Leofric the good Earl. By this means grew
+the hoard of the same holy house the richer by the half of her goods.
+The other half, and her land at Berrington eke, Athelstane her uncle
+kept for himself.
+
+On the self-same day, and in the self-same abbey-church, did I,
+Winifred Ebba's daughter, whose father had been freed churl of the
+father's father of this Algive, make also mine awful vows to serve God
+after St. Benedict's law. Algive Aldred's daughter had then fifteen
+years, and I six more than she: all the days of our lives had we played
+together, and I watched over her. And for that I had ever longed, since
+I could mind me, for the religious life, I was glad in that hour: and
+my kindred chode not too greatly, for that I willed to tread the path
+whereon wended our old thane's daughter. But for Lady Algive was her
+oath-plight the spring of many and bitter woes.
+
+Now Algive was a right comely maiden. Like the blush of the wild rose
+on milk was the skin of her cheek: red as the wild rose-berries her
+soft lips; her hair yellow as the heart of the honeysuckle, and long
+and curling before they shore it; and her eyes were blue and grey
+together, as the onyx-stone in my Lord Bishop's great ring. She was
+hale, blithe, and unmoody, mild and forgiving; she worshipped God as do
+most women; she had ever a most sweet ruth for all that ailed or
+sorrowed; boughsome was she unto the rule of St. Benedict, in so far as
+the Abbess willed: yet I do mind me of thinking always that Heaven had
+not called her to be a nun. Howsoever, these thoughts kept I to myself.
+Twenty sisters were we, a few good enough, many less good than the best
+that lead the life of the world. We dwelt together in peace as far as
+might be; but there were no saints among us, such as King Edward loved.
+Nor was there such learning at Leominster as many of our English
+sisterhoods did boast of; but of such things I cannot speak cunningly,
+nor was I ever drawn to lettered lore. For me, the things of the
+household: let me cook and mend, heal and bind, and all happiness is
+mine. Our sister Algive had small learning enough. But because she was
+sunny ever, and none hated her, and because, moreover, her kin were
+mighty folk, when the Abbess Mildred came to die, we made her Abbess
+over us. Algive was then in her one-and-twentieth year. I do think that
+from first to last her rule was overmild. Many of us left prayer for
+idle talking--an ill thing where there are many women! Me she took from
+the kitchen, wherein I had wrought since my coming to the convent, to
+be sub-prioress, and sent me often as her trusted bode about the farm
+and garden.
+
+Those were the days when holy King Edward sat upon the throne in
+Thorney Island, by London town, and doughty Earl Godwin swayed the
+land. Many hated this Godwin; not a few feared, but ever followed him;
+but I who knew him can tell you so much of him: Were he greedy of
+wealth and grasping after means to might, yet had he a stout English
+heart, and none loved better than he the English land, or kenned better
+the wants of English folk. Churl's son or childe's son, I wit not, but
+King Edward took his daughter, fair Edith, as Lady of the English; and
+the children of Godwin were of the blood of kings, for he wedded Gytha
+the Danish Lady, kinswoman of King Canute. But though foremost in Witan
+and in leaguer, two of his own sons might Earl Godwin never rule. Of
+the six sons of Godwin, with three have I, Winifred, had my dealings,
+and of those three this is my reckoning: Sweyn the eldest was a man,
+for all his wilfulness and his sinful wrath. Harold the next-born was a
+noble prince. Woe worth the day wherein the arrow slew him! As for
+Tostig, fair of face as Michael Archangel, he was a devil.
+
+Now the Abbey of Leominster stood in the old land of Offa, some
+fourteen miles from the Hereford, where the king's armies are wont to
+pass over Wye into the fastnesses of the Welsh. Some three years before
+my lady Algive became our Abbess, Sweyn the first-born son of Godwin
+was made Earl, and given as Earldom much of the old kingdom of the
+March--to wit, Herefordshire and Gloucestershire, and more beside. Ere
+long there spread from mouth to mouth tales of the wildness of our
+young Earl, even such wildness as Godwin his father bore with never in
+any other lord in England. More viking he seemed than Englishman, which
+made some to wonder, and to put abroad a groundless slander. And with
+brooding brows and foreboding nods, folk would tell of how he spurned
+the wise words of the old, or of how he would at times drink deep, and
+then fall to singing, fighting, or love-making maybe. Yet was he a
+righteous lawgiver, and open-handed ever: loving a daring deed, a
+hearty lay, a tale of the great ones of bygone years. Few there were
+that wished him not well, and few that prayed not God to bring him
+through the storms of youth to a steady manhood. Alack! alack for Lord
+Sweyn! tallest, proudest, most gifted of all the Godwinsons!
+
+It was on the twenty-sixth day of May--the self-same day of our
+profession--in the year of Our Lord One Thousand, Forty and Seven, when
+the hawthorn was in full bloom, and the bleak blossoms of the
+blackthorn hung withered and tattered on their swart stems, and all our
+broad meadows shone golden with the buttercup, that we of the convent
+of Leominster heard a clatter of many horses' hooves upon the
+cobble-stones before our door. And there before the door was Sweyn our
+Earl, with twenty Danish house-carles that followed him, and at his
+side some of the wealthiest and worthiest thanes of our smiling shire
+of Hereford. He was much above the mean height, long-limbed and lithe,
+with a swift and noiseless tread; not ruddy, as are the most of the
+English, but dark of hair and milk-white of skin as his mother the
+Dane, and browned about the face and neck by wind and sun; with a nose
+like the beak of a hawk, and eyes like the hawk's for brightness, and a
+sudden, rare smile such as God gives to few. And a most beguiling
+tongue had Earl Sweyn--the tongue of a sagaman.
+
+I saw his coming, peeping from an upper window, and went in haste with
+the tidings to the Lady Abbess.
+
+He strode into her little parlour, and louted low before her. Then many
+a strange thing happened. I was standing by at this their first
+meeting, and what there befell can I forget never. For ye must bear in
+mind that for six years I had toiled without end within the convent
+kitchen, and beheld no man, young or old, goodly or wizen, but Godmund
+the priest. It was a fair sight that greeted the Earl, that of Algive
+Aldred's daughter, now full-grown to womanhood--two and twenty years
+had she--fair even in her weeds of black, with her eyes lowered, yet
+she peering, as I knew, all the while from beneath her lashes. And so,
+when he then beheld her, Sweyn Godwinson grew pale beneath his bronze,
+and stood stock-still before her, his look all wonder. Algive raised
+her grey-blue eyes to his for one short moment. Of a sudden she dropped
+her gaze once again to the hem of her kirtle, and felt fumblingly for
+the crucifix at her waist. Then Sweyn flushed deep red, and his fingers
+clenched on the handle of his boar-spear; and taking another step
+forward, he bowed him down once more, and gave her greeting in words.
+Thereafter these twain talked together in courtly wise, as befitted
+them.
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+From that day forth came Earl Sweyn often to our Abbey. Twice or thrice
+had he with him his near kinsman, Beorn, late made Earl of the Middle
+English, sister's son to King Canute. This was a handsome man enough,
+but methought his eyes were treacherous. After a while Earl Sweyn
+brought Beorn no more, but himself came, and was much with the Abbess
+alone.
+
+My lady had indeed grounds for beseeching help of him: her churls were
+unruly, and who could rede the Abbess so well as the Earl? Howsoever,
+within the sisterhood was there great tattle of talk, and light hinting
+anent their two names. I but waited, and prayed, feeling sharp woe, and
+sorrowed in my heart--Mary forgive me!--as much for him as for her.
+
+Then one day late in June, the Lady Abbess rode forth, with only a band
+of weapon-bearing churls, to Hereford, where Sweyn the Earl then dwelt.
+A week's stay made she there, then rode back again to her Abbey. No
+more was she the woman that she had been--even Algive the fair,
+sparkling as a beam of the sun. Wan as the dead was she now, with
+tight-drawn lips. All day long would she walk up and down the cloister,
+up and down the garden paths, oft-times wringing her hands together.
+The evil mutterings grew, and tongues waxed ever louder and bolder; and
+some sisters forbore not openly to cast gibes at their Abbess almost
+before her back was turned.
+
+I beguiled them as well as I could to leave chatter and spend
+themselves in healthful work, for it was hay-harvest-tide. On a day
+early in August, the eleventh day, we bore in our last load of hay. I
+mind me well of that eleventh of August--sultriest day of all that
+sultry month: the lift bright as glass, and cloudless altogether until
+the hour of sun-setting. All day long we laboured in the heat, staying
+only for our holy offices, the which were soon said under the roof-tree
+of heaven; and every sister, yea, even the Abbess Algive herself,
+worked as lustily as the stoutest churl. All was done at early even;
+the great wains rolled home to the barns, and we passed in thankful
+procession to our church, and there sang vespers, as well as we might
+for our parched throats. The evening meal was spread in the hall of the
+convent: each nun stood beside her stool at the board--thinking, one
+and all, I trow, of white wheaten bread, and cool cider, and eke of
+dreamless slumber: at the board's head, the Abbess had but now beckoned
+to Godmund the Priest that he should ask blessing on our food, when
+there arose a loud clamour without, such as made even the drowsiest to
+start, and we heard the voice of the portress, angry and shrill. Then
+one threw open the door of the hall, and there upon the threshold stood
+Earl Sweyn Godwinson, and behind him his house-carles, twenty dauntless
+men of the Danes.
+
+Earl Sweyn stepped within the hall, up to where the Abbess was.
+
+"My lady," he cried, before us all, "here am I. Come thou with me!"
+
+Abbess Algive would not meet his gaze. She strove a little to speak,
+and a whisper came.
+
+"Lord Earl----"
+
+Sweyn kept his glowing eyes upon her until at last she raised her eyes
+to his. Then:
+
+"Sweyn, Sweyn," quoth she, and went to him, putting both her hands into
+his hands. She would have withdrawn them indeed, but he caught her
+about the body, and laughing a little, bore her shoulder-high from her
+convent hall.
+
+We sped to our gates, but he was already ahorse, with her before him,
+holding to him tightly, and his men were springing to their saddles.
+Out at the gates they streamed, and we after them, into the midst of
+Leominster town, where they halted a little while. What a sight was
+there upon Leominster green! Small wonder that the folk thronged to
+stare! There were the sisters of blessed Benedict, running hither and
+thither as they were wode, all shrieking, some laughing, most wailing
+and calling upon all the saints: there lame old Father Godmund,
+snuffling and chiding all unheeded; in the midst of all, Sweyn the
+Earl, with his Danish house-carles about him, marking naught, it
+seemed, but a loose nail in his horse's shoe. Suddenly, one Sister
+Sexburh, who had been ever greedy after gold and jewels and such light
+things of the world, cried with a loud voice:
+
+"What, good sisters! bide ye here when the road lies open before you?
+What of the flock when the shepherdess is fled? Must we ever waste
+within walls?" And picking up her kirtle with one hand, she set off
+swiftly down the high-way, with Offa the drunken thane in her wake.
+
+But of all that there befell--to my shame I own it--I heard no more,
+for now Earl Sweyn set his horse's head towards Hereford, and with him
+was Algive with her arms about him; and I had no more thought of the
+Abbey of Leominster, of my holy oath of profession, of the needy I was
+wont to feed and clothe and the sick I was wont to heal; but I ran
+until I came up with Sweyn's horse, catching at his stirrup and calling
+out:
+
+"Leave me not, leave me not! Take me also, Lord Earl!"
+
+Sweyn made sign to one of his men that rode beside him, who, stooping,
+lifted me into his saddle before him, and so was I borne along,
+following Earl Sweyn and my Lady Algive.
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+From that day forth was Earl Sweyn forced to flee from shire to shire.
+For wheresoever he would go, the noise of his sacrilege sped before
+him. All priests of God cried out upon him throughout the length and
+breadth of the land; and of the folk, the most did shun the Earl, and
+curse the whole brood of Godwin.
+
+Then Sweyn took pen in hand, and wrote unto Edward our King, his sister
+Edith the lady's lord, begging this thing of him: That whereas Algive
+Aldred's daughter had taken the holy oath-plight in full early youth,
+for dread of her kindred, whom she might not withstand, this Algive
+might now be freed of her oath, and be wedded to him, Sweyn Godwinson,
+as his lawful wife. Now blessed Edward was a great saint, ywiss. Did
+any man ill or slightingly by this Edward's self, his laws or his
+kingship, then had the King towards him the kind heart of a woman: but
+woe betide that one that had wrought wrong to Holy Church! He alone
+would find starkness in King Edward. For him had our Lord King heart of
+stone! When he had read the writing of Lord Sweyn, he cut and tore the
+same in shreds, and stamping his foot upon the ground, swore by blessed
+Dunstan's bones that Sweyn Godwinson should rue the day wherein he was
+born.
+
+King Edward was abiding at Winchester, and Earl Godwin and his other
+sons were with him. Unto his father sent Sweyn then for help, but
+Godwin did most straitly let that he should not come to him: nor would
+any of his brethen hold speech with Sweyn, but Harold only.
+
+Then was Algive the Abbess stricken with fear, and wanhope, and bitter
+remorse, and she fled from before Earl Sweyn, and hid herself in the
+house of a kinsman of mine own, in the borough of Pevensey, in
+Kentland, where, try as he would, he might never come at her. Here, in
+the summer of the next year, her son Haco was born.
+
+And about this tide was Sweyn Godwinson outlawed by Witenagemote, and
+became as a wolf, and his head as a wolf's head, and thus any man might
+slay him, and yet go guiltless of blood.
+
+And Sweyn fled to the sea-shore, and took ship with his house-carles,
+and fared unto his Danish kin, and with them roved the seas a viking,
+for full a year and more.
+
+Now my Lady Algive and I abode in the house of Oswy my kinsman, a
+worthy chapman of the town of Pevensey, and the folk around kenned
+nought of us nor of whence we came, believing her to be a widow and I
+her maid. For King Edward and Earl Godwin had made fast unto my lady
+some small means of livelihood. Thus a whole year passed from the
+spring of Sweyn Godwinson's forth-going, and summer was come again. And
+one fine day, when my lady and I did walk forth into Pevensey market to
+buy us fresh cake-bread, who should come through the market, wending
+afoot, but Sweyn's cousin, Earl Beorn of the shifty eyes. He caught
+sight of Algive's face beneath her wimple, as she stood by the
+cake-seller's booth, and halted beside her, and spake softly, near to
+her ear. And when my lady returned to our dwelling, Earl Beorn went
+along with her, and there talked with her alone some while.
+
+Often thereafter came he unto my lady Algive at my kinsman's house at
+Pevensey--once in the week at the seldomest. What this boded I could
+not guess, but ever I misliked this Beorn more and more.
+
+One evening, late in summer, I, after long wandering by the shore in
+the cool of the eventide, hied me home, weening that somewhat ailed my
+lady, and sought her in her own small chamber. I found her therein,
+crouched low upon the floor, white as sheeted ghost, her eyes a-stare,
+her mouth round-agape. Seeing me, she stumbled to her feet, and with
+one great sob, flung her arms about my neck and held me as she would
+never let me go.
+
+"Winifred, sweet friend," then said mine alderliefest lady, "fail me
+not now, thou that hast followed me through weal and woe! For now must
+I to a deed before which my whole being quails. Know then--Earl
+Beorn--he hath wooed me long to his own ends, and I withstood him,
+minding me that my troth is to Christ our Lord, even though I be now
+desecrate. But ever he spake of the King, and of how he, Beorn, had
+lately besought him that Sweyn might come again into England, and be
+made once more lord and earl, as beseemeth his father's son. And King
+Edward, said he, seemed like to yield. And oh! I have but now plighted
+me, that if Sweyn be inlawed by his means, I will go unto Beorn
+whensoever he shall send for me.... O Winifred, thou wilt yet stand by
+me? Thou wilt go with me--on that day...? To what end my soul's weal?
+Is not Sweyn's life wrecked through me?"
+
+Seeing how it was with her, I wrestled not with her resolve, but
+soothed her crying, and swore to stand or fall by her. In the town of
+Pevensey I had a friend, a trusty good-wife who had been whilom of Earl
+Godwin's household, and loved Lord Sweyn as her own bairn. Indeed, I
+had but now learned of her that Sweyn, with his Danish ships, hung even
+then about the shores of Kent. And in his father's lordship of Bosham
+were some, as I knew, that gave him food and shelter when he willed to
+set foot on English ground. To one of these I sent, bidding him tell
+Sweyn the outlaw that I had that for his ear alone which must be said,
+and quickly. Three days later I found him, Earl Godwin's first-born,
+within a filthy hovel, wherein must he ever stoop that his head hit not
+against the thatch.
+
+Straightway I fell on my knees before him, not knowing what I
+uttered--only saying over and over:
+
+"Lord Sweyn, Lord Sweyn, this must not be!"
+
+And I told to him the guilty bargain made by my Lady Algive with Beorn
+the Earl, for sake of him, Sweyn Godwinson.
+
+Scarce was my meaning clear ere his fell wrath began to gather like a
+thunder-storm.
+
+"May he burn in hell-fire!" cried Sweyn. "May earth spue forth his
+body, that he come never to no burial! May the ravens of Odin pick his
+bones for ever, and each day may the flesh grow upon them anew! The
+toad! The rat!--Aye, I too have trafficked with Beorn Estrithson of
+late, and found him kindly and loving enough. Speak for me to the King!
+Shall I be inlawed? I do think for a day: and then, if I but yawn at
+mass, or smile at a pretty wench by the roadside, they will drive me
+once more forth!"
+
+Then growing calmer he said:
+
+"Into thy keeping give I Algive. Watch well; and when Beorn would work
+his wicked will, send me tidings, and I will be with them ere harm can
+come to that lady."
+
+Honeyed words spake Earl Beorn in King Edward's ear, and within the
+week was Sweyn Godwinson inlawed, and of the King bidden come and
+welcome.
+
+On the self-same night my lady bade me wit that the hour of her dread
+was nigh. Now the King's ships were out, ready to fight with Baldwin
+the Flemish Earl, but in the end King Edward willed not to war with
+Baldwin, so must the seamen to their own homes. It had so befallen that
+the King had sent for Harold Godwinson to Sandwich, where he was then
+dwelling. Earl Harold's seamen were of Devon, and would make Dartmouth
+on the next day, and thus must Earl Beorn be over them in their ship of
+war, in Harold's stead. At eventide would Earl Harold yield up his
+command to Beorn his kinsman, in the haven of Pevensey; and at eventide
+would Beorn have my Lady Algive come to him aboard this ship.
+
+Then I sent a trusty one in haste with these tidings unto Sweyn.
+
+As the sun was setting, my lady, hooded altogether, and leaning upon my
+arm, went down to the water-side. In a shed, behind heaped-up timber,
+crouched we hidden, and watched Earl Harold and his household men land
+from the tall warship when the shades of night were fast drawing down,
+and set out for the court of the King. Earl Beorn was left, and four of
+his men, and they had all eaten and drunken well.
+
+When all was once more still, we crept out, she and I, clomb the ladder
+that yet hung adown the side, and so aboard the ship of Earl Beorn. In
+the bows lay the four seamen, heavy with the ale they had drunken: they
+seemed scarce to mark our going. Now Beorn awaited her astern, in a
+tent-room strung upon poles and screened on all sides with thick
+hangings, wherein he had feasted with Harold a little before. At the
+door of this tent I left her, and ran with all my haste to the ship's
+side. Beneath my cloak I had carried, so warily, a little lanthorn,
+whose horn I had shrouded with a scrap of thin red silk. This I waved
+thrice to and fro, for a token to Lord Sweyn without.
+
+In the twinkling of an eye, he came on out of the darkness, ten of his
+Danish followers in his wake: swiftly and soundlessly they leapt
+aboard. They took hold on three of Beorn's men ere they could struggle
+or cry, gagged them, and bound them fast. The fourth saw we not at all
+at that time.
+
+Swiftly sped Sweyn towards the Earl's tent, the great battle-axe of a
+viking in his hand, and I beside him. Even fleeter was I, for I forged
+ahead, and had torn aside the hangings even as he came up with me. Earl
+Beorn stood within, flushed and lowering: at his feet knelt Algive, her
+hood wrested away, and the fingers of his right hand clasped in the
+short golden curls of her hair. Beside him, as though thrust from his
+way, was a light trestle-board, yet strewn with bread, broken meats,
+and drinking-horns: upon this board he leant unsteadily with his other
+hand. Said he thickly, swaying a little:
+
+"By the hammer of Thor, who dare----"
+
+Then Sweyn glided within, and called full softly and sweetly: "Ho,
+Beorn Estrithson! Here is Sweyn Godwinson!"
+
+"Is it so?" said Beorn. "Is it so indeed? Sweyn the Outlaw! Sweyn the
+Nithing!" His voice rose in a drunken laugh. "Godwin's son! Sweyn the
+son of King Canute, and of Gytha the spotless princess."
+
+It was the last hiss of that wicked worm. The Danish war-axe of Sweyn
+whistled once through the air, and smote Earl Beorn right between the
+brows, and he fell heavily along the deck, and by his blood was Algive
+all foully bespattered as she lay.
+
+And Sweyn sang loud and hoarse and high; hoarse and high and loud sang
+he:
+
+    "Utters the axe: of Sweyn the sea-rover;
+    Lifeless he lies: the wiler of women!
+    Blood of betrayer: is it not a sight full seemly?
+                Haro! Haro!
+                Aié! Haro!
+    Lo! cries his lord: Weapon unworthy,
+    Lop I thy head leifer, than 'gainst brave and true men bear thee!
+    Hempen death rather his, that was sib-folk's slanderer.
+    'Cowards come not: To the halls of the Chosen!
+                Haro! Haro!..."
+
+But of all that followed I nothing saw nor heard, for a great blow was
+stricken me behind the head, and black darkness rushed down upon mine
+eyes and ears.
+
+
+The blood beat dully against my brow, and my head ached as it would
+split in twain. I lay on a day-bed, pillowed with down.
+
+On the ship? There had been a ship.... The fourth man! He must have
+fallen upon me as I stood in the tent-door.
+
+Nay, I was once again within four walls. There were voices of men and
+women about me. I opened mine eyes. Near-by saw I some that I kenned
+full well, though they kenned not me, for often had I gazed upon the
+great ones of the land, since coming into Kent. On a settle over
+against me sat proud Lady Gytha, Earl Godwin's wife: her grief had made
+her stony; her eyes were heavy, and her lips a thin, tight streak. Earl
+Tostig stood before the empty hearth, clanking ever at the golden chain
+about his neck. At the feet of his mother, upon a stool, sat Harold,
+holding on his knee the child Haco Sweynson.
+
+"Stirs she yet?" said Lady Gytha.
+
+"Nay, not yet," Tostig answered. I shut mine eyes, for his harsh tones
+jarred and sickened me.
+
+"Was it Algive?" she said, right mournfully. "Has this woman once again
+brought my Sweyn to nought?"
+
+"Lady mother," spake Earl Harold, "I was, as ye know, at Dartmouth
+town, when, at dead of night, came one of my men to me. In a dark wynd,
+he said, armed men set upon him and held him fast, and one, whose voice
+seemed the voice of Sweyn, gave into his arms this child, son of Sweyn
+Godwinson, and bade him take him thence unto me, or be slain where he
+stood. 'And look thou beneath the shed of Oswald the shipman, by his
+wharfside,' quoth he that might be Sweyn, 'and there wilt thou behold
+more which beareth on this matter.' My man and his fellows sought the
+sheds of Oswald, and lo! bound hand and foot, four seamen of Beorn's
+ship, which Sweyn my brother sailed out of Pevensey, and the body of
+Beorn Estrithson our kinsman, mangled fearfully, and eke yon poor soul,
+whom the men of Beorn call the Lady Algive's woman."
+
+Then I guessed that I was now in the house of Earl Godwin at
+Dorchester.
+
+"Slain by my son!" moaned Lady Gytha. "Beorn, who won for him the
+King's forgiveness!"
+
+"Fore God and His host of hallows!" cried Tostig bitterly. "Heavy is
+now our shame! Such wantonness knows no end. Outcast of Holy Church was
+Sweyn Godwinson--and now black murder done on him who had befriended
+him. Shall the whole house of Godwin fall for the strayings of one?
+Were I King----"
+
+"Hold!" Harold thundered. "Never aught underhand did Sweyn, and that
+thou well wittest, Tostig!"
+
+At this I strove to sit upright on my bed, but could not, and fell
+back.
+
+"See, she swoons no more," said Lady Gytha, and was at my side,
+bringing wine in a flask.
+
+Then there broke in upon us Godwin the Earl, with fumbling step, his
+eyes wild, his grey locks tangled and unkempt.
+
+"Woe worth the day!" he cried aloud unto his lady. "Woe worth the hour
+wherein he saw the light, this son of thine! Twice outlaw he, and
+Nithing by the word of the armed Gemot! Foul blows where thanks were
+owing--that was well done, O Sweyn! No child of mine art thou
+henceforward. Harold, stand thou in his stead: thine are all the rights
+of the first-born."
+
+He sank upon a settle, shading his countenance with his hands. Lady
+Gytha went to him, and her tears began fast to flow. Then came Tostig's
+whisper, sudden and clear as the cracking of ice:
+
+"What, Harold, so soon? I did think----"
+
+But Harold chode not with him, for the boy Haco whimpered, and he fell
+to soothing him in most kind wise.
+
+Then, by God's favour, I rose from my bed, and knelt at the feet of the
+Earl and his lady, and spake to them of the shameful saying of Beorn,
+the which had goaded Sweyn Godwinson to smite him to death. In after
+years, Lord Harold knew, but so softly spake I there that my tale was
+heard of Godwin and Gytha only, and no word reached the ear of Tostig.
+
+When I had ended, Lady Gytha arose, to pass from us all into an inner
+room. And Earl Godwin arose too, and caught her arm as she went.
+
+"Gytha--wife"--said he--"here is it at an end! I am old, I am old,
+Gytha!"
+
+It was sooth he spake, the once stout Earl. He was an old man from that
+hour. But Gytha held her head high, and I knew that in her heart she
+was glad for her son.
+
+
+Good folk, ye say that ye would hear yet further of Earl Sweyn and of
+the Lady Algive, who are now no more, and of how they came to their
+ends. Men say that King Edward would once more have pardoned this lord,
+Edith the Lady besought him so. But when Sweyn had put the body of Earl
+Beorn on shore at Dartmouth, of his eight ships, six then left him, for
+his men, both Danes and English, now beheld him stained with the blood
+of a kinsman. And as he sailed towards the east, in the warship of
+Beorn, with one of his own ships faithfully following, the men of
+Hastings set forth from their haven, and hunted these craft until they
+overtook and seized them. But Sweyn Godwinson they took not, nor Lady
+Algive that was with him; and they twain hied them into Flanders, and
+there abode all that winter. Thereafter Lord Sweyn went once more
+a-sea-roving, seeking forgetfulness, as I have heard.
+
+In the year One Thousand Fifty and One, when the townsfolk of Dover,
+greatly wroth, did wreak the wrongs done to them by Eustace the French
+Earl upon the said Earl and his men, Godwin withstood the King upon the
+men of Dover's behalf, and was banished by King Edward beyond seas, he
+and all his house. Then went they also unto Baldwin's land, and Sweyn
+met them there, and abode with them, for he had long yearned for sight
+of his kindred.
+
+When Godwin was called back into England, they were for bringing Sweyn
+with them, to be inlawed, and received back into the King's trust, But
+Sweyn's pride was broken. He would come no more to the land of his
+birth, who had so fouled the fair fame of Godwin's house. Harold should
+stand in his stead: he would fare afar, pilgrim to the Holy Grave and
+Calvary Hill, that haply he might find the forgiveness of heaven. When
+the children of Godwin returned, they had in their keeping Algive my
+dear lady. All this while had she been in the city of Bruges, in the
+ward of Baldwin's daughter, Mahault, that is now Queen of the English,
+wife to King William. They sent for me to her, and put us to dwell
+together in the house of my kinsman at Pevensey, where we had woned
+aforetime.
+
+Now in two years from that time began my Lady Algive to wane and to
+wither, as a green bush when the sap no more rises. She spake little,
+and prayed long hours together. At last came the day, when she went
+abroad no more, and often kept her bed. Then one morning early, she
+called me to her side and thus quoth she:
+
+"O Winifred, this month agone dreamed I a dream, one that is sooth and
+no vanity. I dreamed that Sweyn, my lord and my love, stood before me,
+the rime in his hair, his feet bruised and bleeding, and beckoned me.
+So I know--ask me not how--that he is no longer on life, and that God
+in his goodness sendeth death to me also. But lo! another marvel. Each
+morn, as I awaken, I hear the ring of footsteps that come from a far
+frozen land. Each morn, I say, are these footsteps louder and nigher;
+but Sweyn comes not at all any more."
+
+This was at the winter-tide. Early in the next summer, my good friend,
+she who had been of the household of Gytha, sent to let me wit that an
+holy priest and pilgrim was lately come from the East, bearing tidings
+which my lady should hear. To our house-door came he, and I led him
+within to my lady, where she lay. And this was his tale, told in few
+words:
+
+"Good wives, as I journeyed hither from the Holy City, I traversed the
+land of Lycia, where they have a winter more bitter than any winter we
+English know. And one evening came one to our fellowship, saying that
+yonder, beneath the roof of an holy hermit, lay a man of the north,
+they thought of the Island of the Angles, sick unto death. I followed
+this Lycian, seeking my countryman, and found him, a mighty man
+aforetime, I ween, but now so wasted with his wanderings that he seemed
+to have no flesh, but only skin and bone. And when I would shrive and
+housel him, thus he spake: 'Priest, know that I am Sweyn the Nithing,
+first-born son of Earl Godwin, and whilom Earl in fair England, from
+Hereford even unto Oxenford! Woe for the sins of unbridled youth! I
+have profaned the Holy Church of Christ, and have wrought murder, even
+upon my kinsman, when the red wrath boiled in my blood--aye, and the
+guilt of mine own father's death is also upon me, most wretched! Since
+these things done have I known no peace until this hour, wherein I
+leave my life.'
+
+"Soon after died he of the cold."
+
+Now about an hour after this pilgrim had given over speaking, Algive
+Aldred's daughter went forth from the bitterness of the world to the
+unbounded mercy of God.
+
+As for Haco Sweynson, he fell fighting by King Harold upon Senlac
+field.
+
+And I, Winifred, daughter of Ebba, yet live on, and pray in each hour
+to Our Lord Christ and to Mary mild, His Mother, that the souls of
+these twain, Sweyn and Algive, may be cleansed of every foul stain. For
+though their sins were many and great, yet scorned they none, nor lied,
+nor ever betrayed any but themselves, neither ground down the needy
+when that might was theirs; and verily and indeed they loved much; and
+I, who have sinned my share, God wot! do faithfully hope to meet them
+both again ere long in the fair, shining meads of Paradise.
+
+
+
+
+Edith's Well
+
+"_Sicut spina rosam genuit Goduinus Edivam._"
+
+
+So, Gundred my son's daughter, thou hast been to London town; and thou
+hast seen this new Queen Edith, whom men in the French tongue call
+Maulde; and she is the fairest lady who ever in all the world sat
+beside king in high-seat; the most gracious, the meekest, the
+freest-handed, the most ruthful! Edith, quoth the child? Long ago there
+was an Edith.... Well, daughter, a queen once spoke to thy grandfather,
+and he to her; and a mighty wonder marked their meeting, which will be
+remembered while time shall last. Young folk love tales, and the old
+are fain to the telling of tales. Sit down by my feet, and hear how
+once upon a day Edith came to her Well yonder by the highway.
+
+I have witnessed frost and snow, storm and lightning, pest and famine,
+in my nigh-on-eighty years; I have known drought and burning also, but
+never such drought as befell us in the year One Thousand Sixty and
+Five. This was a great year in its beginnings: a marvellous year for
+the apple-bloom; we had carried two crops of hay before July was out;
+the wheat-ears were so heavy that they leant together as they grew,
+like unto folk in a crowd that swoon, and even the barley would
+scarcely bestir itself at the coming of a welcome wind. Oh, the heat of
+that summer! We had three showers in all between April and the end of
+August, and they but soft and slender. The earth cracked in places into
+gaps full many a foot wide; the grass was no more green, but the colour
+of the baked earth in which it had root: small weeds died, and the moss
+withered on stock and stone; half a day was the life of a brier-rose.
+Rabbits, hares, and some birds starved all about us; the field-mice
+were a scourge to us at the first, but later even they and the
+hedgehogs gave up the breath of life. The brooks dwindled and ceased to
+flow but in a trickle: many an age-old spring sent forth water no more.
+The morning dews were heavy, but soon gone; and the earth could drink
+them in no farther than a hen may scratch. Though we dug dew-ponds, the
+little moisture they gathered was not worth our toil. We cut the corn
+in haste, for the wild fowl rifled it day and night. Many an one that
+laboured did the sun strike dizzy. One man and one boy were slain by
+the heat-stroke, and some tottered from the fields to work no more that
+year. With those that remained, it was mug to mouth ten times in the
+hour! My cider was gone within the first three days; and then my goodly
+beer must follow! And in the second week in August they sent from
+Ledbury to tell me that Edith the Lady, King Edward's wife, would pass
+near by my dwelling as she went to visit her brother, Harold Godwinson
+the Earl, at Hereford, and begged that I in charity would give her
+refreshment upon her wayfaring.
+
+As the Lady willed, so must I do, for our King's sake, and for the sake
+of other some. In my boyhood I had been one year a henchman of Godwin
+her father's; Gytha her mother had nursed me in some slight sickness; I
+had ridden out with Sweyn to fight with Griffith the Welsh king. I had
+not seen this Edith since she was a young maiden in her father's hall:
+men had told of her as both merry and learned; but I had never been
+near her, to speak one word. It was said that she led a gleeless life
+with her pious old lord. She would not pass right before my door, I
+deemed, on her way to the Hereford: I would take food and drink, and
+meet her upon the road that runs through Ledbury to Gloucester, and
+ride with her some deal of her journey, if she should wish for my
+company. So I set out about the ninth hour of the morning, with four of
+my men: my good wife, thy grandmother, I bade abide within doors, for
+fear of the deadly heat. We bore with us a pie and wheaten bread--no
+butter, for it would have melted. Little beer and no cider had I by
+then; but we took two skins of ripe mead, fit for queen or king.
+
+The sun was shining so strongly that we could almost hear the shooting
+of his beams. The air was seen to throb. White dust lay thickly over
+grass, bush and tree. There was a dreadful stillness; the only sound
+that ourselves made not was the sickening hum of flies. We went slowly,
+with bracken-leaves bound about our heads and twined within our horses'
+browbands. When we had gone some two miles, there befell a great
+mishap. The stopper flew from the mead-flask at the saddle-bow of
+Anflete the reeve, and the mead gushed out. We had not time to catch
+any of it ere it lay frothing in the dust. And then, as though the
+devil strove to plague us, the other bottle, which mine own horse
+carried, burst also, and left us likewise liquorless.
+
+But we bore on, until we came to a spot a few yards off the Ledbury
+highway, where the banks were steep and the bushes shady: indeed, all
+about was the woodland of the vill of Stoke, belonging to this same
+Edith the Lady, who had set a reeve therein to see to her rights and
+her profits. Seemingly she would not stay to look upon her own land, so
+fain was she for sight of Harold her brother. Near the joining of the
+ways, then, we waited. Our throats were as dry as a smith's bellows. My
+men had swallowed what little beer we had left before I could forbid
+them. At once I made the blockheads seek for water, thinking of the
+wants of those we had come to meet. Not one drop within a hundred yards
+in every quarter, though God knows there are springs and streams enough
+thereabouts in any common year! We stretched ourselves in what there
+was of shade, and soon we beheld them coming, a goodly company of
+ladies and armed men.
+
+We went forward to greet them; the foremost of them got down from their
+saddles; the Lady of the English came stately towards me, smiled, and
+put her small hand in mine.
+
+"Odda, right glad am I to meet with thee," she said. "Dost thou mind
+thee how at Winchester I let my head-rail fall from a window into the
+buckthorn-tree, and how thou didst climb in and get it again, and didst
+send it me by my mother's woman?"
+
+I remembered. Being but a henchman of the stable, I could not myself go
+with it.
+
+How gracious her smile! How mild her condescension! Great wonder was it
+throughout the land, I knew, that she should be so lowly-sweet. The
+Lady Edith was little like to Earl Godwin her father, the rugged, grim
+old man! Although at this time about forty-four years old, as I think,
+she was an exceedingly fair woman still. Her skin was white as
+walrus-bone, and very little wrinkled; her hair long, thick, and
+red-golden as ever it had been, for though she was now hooded and
+staidly wimpled, I saw it uncovered later on that morning, and I could
+find therein no grizzled strand. Her clothing? She was cloaked and
+hooded, meseemeth, in fallow hue--and a little cross, finely-wrought in
+silver, hung at her throat; but how can a man speak of women's
+garments? I know that her mouth was soft and kindly, and quivered a
+little sometimes when she was not speaking; and there were now black
+shadows beneath her big grey eyes--maybe from the hardship of her
+journeying.
+
+"My lady," I answered, "I beg that ye will rest awhile, and eat of the
+food that I have here. Alack! I have no drink to set before you! We
+brought mead, but in the heat an hour agone it burst our bottles; and
+there is no water near at hand--we have but lately sought it."
+
+The lady raised her hands to her brows in most weary wise.
+
+"Good Odda," she said, notwithstanding, "I thank thee much for thy
+kindness in thus coming, and for all the pains that thou hast taken.
+And since thy mead was lost on my behalf, I thank thee for it also. Let
+us sit here awhile and eat, as thou sayest; we are sore anhungered,
+that is sure. And later we will go find my reeve at Stoke over yonder.
+He will doubtless have one drop of somewhat for us each to drink. We
+also emptied our flasks an hour ago, silly souls that we were!"
+
+She had with her her mass-priest, her women, her men-at-arms, her
+thralls. We sat down upon the ground, and broke the pasty into
+portions, and dealt out my fine wheaten bread.
+
+As she talked with me of the old days in her own home, suddenly we
+heard a noise in the woodland upon our right--a child's voice
+wailing--the voices of two children. Far away at first, then somewhat
+nearer. Two wandering children, crying fit to burst their bosoms. Great
+breathless, thirsty sobs, swelling every now and then to a despairing
+roar.
+
+The lady had sprung to her feet, and had broken through the nearest
+bushes into the thicket beyond.
+
+"Hither! hither!" she cried. "Come! Come! But where are ye? Weep no
+more--here is help!"
+
+We all followed her. She walked onward, calling; they shouted still,
+and drew nearer and yet more near: at last they came forth, the little
+mites, upon a bare plot whereon we had halted. Boy and girl they were;
+five and seven years old they seemed: hand clasped in hand, cheeks
+grimy with dust which their tears had furrowed, faces flushed and
+seared by the mighty heat.
+
+She ran to meet them, with outstretched arms. They ran to her, and
+caught at her skirts. The girl, the younger, cried, "We were lost!" and
+the boy said hoarsely, "Mother!... O mother, the world looks black....
+Oh, my head, I cannot see!" and he had fallen flat at her feet before
+she could stay him.
+
+The girl said, "Lady, my head--great smart have I also!" and her breath
+came thick and loud.
+
+The Lady Edith gathered sorrel-leaves, and bound them about the heads
+of the bairns.
+
+"It is not enough," said she then. "They must have water."
+
+"There is no water here," Anflete my servant answered. "We sought it
+high and low before my lady's coming."
+
+She wrung her hands in sharp woe.
+
+"O Christ, have mercy!" she said. "O Mary, that art our mother,
+hasten--help!"
+
+Then her passion seemed to leave her, and she knelt, and began to speak
+in still, low tones; but I heard her words.
+
+"Father of all goodness," she prayed, "save these twain alive, who are
+more to Thee than the wild sparrows! Strengthen then, Lord, I beseech
+thee, the gift that Thou hast bestowed upon Thine handmaid!"
+
+Having so said, she arose, and quickly bade her folk bear the children
+with them, and shade the little ones' heads. It was high noon now, but
+she flung her hood back, and her wimple fell away and hung down with
+the hood, so that her bright hair was laid bare, and her shapely neck
+and breast of ivory. Many a woman would have seemed light-minded, even
+wanton, so; but our Edith was queen in everything she did. Although the
+soil was burning, and scorched the feet through riding-boots, she began
+to walk swiftly, glidingly, around and about. She held her
+riding-switch, a toy with handle of gold and amber, bent bow-wise
+between her two hands. Her lips were parted, as those of one who
+breathes-in freshest air.
+
+And we followed, a great awe upon us. We were once more in the lane
+where we had rested, when a gleam awoke in her eyes, which had become
+dark and shut off from earthly sight, and she sped ahead of us even
+faster than at first. She came to where the bank overhung, and was
+covered with sagging ferns, shrivelled and caked with dust. A shiver
+shot through her whole body, and the switch that she carried started
+and writhed as it had been a live snake.
+
+"God be praised!" she exclaimed. "Here is water for them!" She stamped
+her foot. "Dig! dig! Bring spades--Oh, dig! Quick! Would ye see them
+die before your eyes?"
+
+"Sebbe the charcoal-burner!" said Anflete. "I will fetch his spade."
+
+Edith had snatched his war-axe from one of her men-at-arms and was
+hewing at the bank whereunder she stood; I hacked away with my broad
+knife; some of the others scratched with their hands. In a little while
+Anflete was back from the charcoal-burner's with spade and pick, and we
+got more skilfully to work. A homely croon was heard in the heart of
+the earth. A spot of moisture darkened the bottom of the hollow that we
+had made. One spadeful more, and up it bubbled--a little spring, but a
+strong one. There were stones still within the hollow, and we put back
+more to keep up the shifting sides; and into the bowl so made the water
+flowed, thick and clotted, truly, with the dust and flakes of
+sandstone, but how sweet to touch and taste! Oh, the happy noise of
+water in a thirsty land!
+
+The Lady Edith dipped a clout in the well and bathed the heads and
+necks of the little ones, gave them to drink, and set them to lie in
+the shade. Soon the girl-child stirred and wept, and Edith lifted her
+up in her arms. A shrill cry made us all turn to behold a poorly-clad
+woman, hot and unkempt, who stumbled towards us, tears in her eyes and
+terror in her voice.
+
+"Ye naughty ones!" she stormed at sight of the children. "Here have I
+been...."
+
+Then she stopped short, with open mouth, and stared at the slender,
+bare-headed woman who held her younger child, until one whispered: "It
+is the King's Lady!" when she louted down upon her knees.
+
+"Hush! hush!" said Lady Edith to her sobbing burden. "Fear not,
+sweetheart! Thou must go home now--go to thy mother indeed!" and she
+laid her in the arms of the kneeling woman.
+
+Never had she been more lovely than in that moment, her face shining
+like a rose, her eyes most tender and brightly-beaming. When, a short
+while after, she turned from mother and child and came seeking me, a
+huge pity rushed up within me, and I think that she read that pity in
+my look.
+
+"Dread lady," said I, being a little mazed, and all soft with ruth,
+"how goes it with our Lord the King?"
+
+"Whenas I left my lord, all was right well with him," she answered. "He
+had some sickness in the spring, but it irked him little, truly, for
+his years. Such an holy life he leads, and yet he is so long-enduring
+towards them of worldly mind! It is great joy to me that I may see him
+sometimes, and be somewhat near him."
+
+She crossed herself, and the fair light faded from her.
+
+"Wherefore do I murmur?" said she. "Is not Jordan flood better than all
+the rivers of Damascus?"
+
+And so saying, she folded her meek hands above her heart, and went her
+way.
+
+I never saw her again. The well that she found for us abideth for her
+memorial: clear and cool in every weather--the freshest in all the
+countryside. I have often thought of her since that day; and I think of
+her more often now than ever in the long night hours that are not the
+drowsy hours when one has grown old. Dreams, Gundred, dreams--waking
+dreams, but idle things none the less! But sometimes meseemeth that her
+very self is near me, standing as I best knew her, arms outheld, face
+aglow. She lived and died childless; the old King had made an oath,
+they say, for fear he might fall short of heaven. Once or twice evil
+tongues have made free to slander her fame! She was staunch, I know,
+and flawless; and yet her heart was quick and warm. Girl, I have ever
+recked little of the greater deal of the saints to whom prelates bid us
+pray. Of God and of his goodness I reck much; and this is the saint
+whom I worship before all others, crowned in this world or
+uncrowned--Edith the well-beloved Lady, whom all her people honoured
+and pitied.
+
+
+
+
+Richard the Scrob
+
+
+"Better than mine, Kenric--better than thine!" said Grim. "Ever his are
+taken, and ours are left. Who will look at our sheep and our oxen when
+the Scrob's are by?"
+
+Kenric withdrew the straw that he had been chewing from between his
+teeth, and ceased to stare at the white-limbed, red-spotted cattle in
+the pen before him.
+
+"Eh! he buyeth for the Bishop," he mumbled. "And he buyeth for the folk
+of Hereford town. And for the Abbot of Leominster. And for the Prior of
+Wenlock. His salted meat is rowed upon Wye and upon Severn to feed the
+merchantmen of Bristol. Grim, this Frenchman is a worker of spells."
+
+"And even so the beasts of his own breeding are such as thou wilt not
+meet with on any other man's land within the two shires. Heavier!
+Fatter! Sleeker! I would that his lord the devil would fly away with
+him soon! Hast thou but seen his woolsacks yonder? What other has such
+great store to sell? True, he can have little spinning at home, with no
+women."
+
+"I have not seen him--Richard the Scrob," said vague Kenric, returning
+to his straw-munching. "Are not these sold already----"
+
+"Kenric, stand not and grumble, with blind eyes," cried Munulf the
+maltman, who now accosted these two. "Here is a sight not often
+seen--the little widow, Kenric, the plump widow. Look up and behold the
+light of thine eyes, where she cometh, girt about with her husband's
+stalwart kinsfold."
+
+"Hey? who?" Kenric rejoined. "Who cometh yonder? Alftrude the widow of
+Winge? Oh, aye, it is a pretty woman enough----"
+
+"And should be rich woman enough," said Grim. "They are watchdogs
+indeed, the brethren of the Moor. I wonder that they let her show her
+nose at Ludford fair--so little and straight is it that many a man will
+love it, by heaven! My good wife pities Alftrude greatly. She will be
+widow to the end of her days, they ward her about so wilily."
+
+"I know it, I know it!" wheezed Kenric. "And Ulwin, Alward, and
+Ednoth--they are three ill men to deal withal. Alack! no hope have I!"
+He summoned up a faint sigh of good-humoured resignation. "If but now
+thou found me grumbling," he explained, "it was at French Richard."
+
+Munulf raked his fingers through his long yellow hair, and looked
+mysterious.
+
+"I have heard cunning talk of late," said he "Men say that these
+outland folk that swarm about our King shall soon be outlanders
+twofold; for shall they not be bundled off, beyond the seas, whither
+they came? Earl Godwin called together his Mickle Gemot seven weeks
+ago. I would we knew how that has sped. Godwin is wont to bring about
+his will!"
+
+"Why, my lords, he hath brought it about, the good Earl!" sounded in an
+excited cackle behind them. Hildred the ale-wife hastened to join the
+three speakers, her red face unusually resplendent with pride in being
+foremost retailer of news for that day. "A man of Worcester brought
+great tidings yestereve. Godwin is driving out the accursed Normans,
+every one--man, woman, child, and priest. Even Ralf our Earl, the
+King's nephew, shall go, though his mother were English Godgifu!"
+
+"Bless the work!" exclaimed Grim. "These Normans have a knack of
+drawing to themselves the wealth that should be ours. There should be
+pickings, eh? for all true Englishmen!" He nudged Kenric, and
+whispered:
+
+"H'st! see where Richard comes!"
+
+Richard the Norman came up to his cattle-pen. He was a small man,
+slightly built, and of upright carriage, and he moved with a spring in
+his gait. He had an aquiline nose, a persistent chin, and a strong,
+exceedingly well-formed mouth; his eyes were dark and deeply-set
+beneath the fine straight line of brow, and they looked straight into
+the eyes of others. His face was clean-shaven like a cleric's, and more
+than ordinarily wrinkled about mouth, eyes, and brow for his age, which
+was a little over thirty; the black hair of his head was cut short at
+the nape of the neck and the top of the forehead. He wore a short tunic
+of dull-coloured cloth, and leather boots, and from his waistbelt hung
+a small, shabby leather bag. Behind him walked his two servants, Howel
+the Welshman, and his own countryman Perot.
+
+"Good day, Thane Kenric," said Richard the Scrob. "Good day, lords
+both, and to you, worshipful Munulf."
+
+"Ah! Good day, Richard Scrob's son."
+
+"Warm weather for November. A very Martin's summer," said Richard.
+
+"Aye," from Grim. "Oh, aye, right warm, this weather. It may become
+hot. It shall soon be hot for all Frenchmen!" he concluded savagely.
+
+Richard seemed unconscious of Grim's words and of their tone. He
+unfastened the bag from his belt, opened it, and surveyed the contents
+complacently. Oswin, the maltman's son, a weak-kneed, loose-lipped
+youth, gave a laboured imitation of the Norman's air of detachment, a
+few yards away.
+
+"Why, son," said Munulf, when he had finished guffawing at this
+specimen of his offspring's wit, "what bearest in thy bosom?" pointing
+to the opening at the neck of the lad's jerkin, where a small, dark
+head was seen to writhe.
+
+"Oh, it is my weasel," Oswin replied. "He harms me not, for I feed him,
+but others he biteth. There are some shall feel his fangs before Holy
+Martin's fair is out, I warrant you, my father!"
+
+"Here are the Moor folk at last. I shall sit down," Kenric announced
+portentously. He withdrew to the customary resort of thanes and great
+men on market-days, on holidays, and at all public functions held upon
+Ludford green--the huge elm whose boughs cast their shadow as far as
+the cattle-pen of Richard the Scrob. There he subsided upon a bench,
+and sent a serving-woman of the ale-wife's for beer.
+
+The green was now crowded with buyers and sellers of every degree. Grim
+and Munulf, who leant upon the hurdles surrounding Richard's exhibits,
+saw the throng before them part to release a procession of two thralls,
+four lean oxen, four women in riding-mantles, and three corpulent men
+who wore the grimy remains of once-fine garments, and had pretentiously
+heavy gold ornaments at their necks and about their wrists and fingers.
+Three of the women were comely and commonplace: the pleasant person of
+the fourth could not have failed to command attention in any
+surroundings. She was young, of moderate height, and generously built;
+she was small-featured, white skinned, blue-eyed, and her lips were
+full and wholesomely red. Over her head and the greater part of her
+figure was a hooded cloak, evidently new, of periwinkle-blue cloth; and
+upon her breast lay her hair in long plaits of that soft shade which is
+not golden, nor brown, nor chestnut, but all three, and has yet an
+ashen-silver haze upon its surface when the sun shines behind it. Her
+gown was black, and much the worse for wear, and at the base of her
+throat gleamed a bunch of the spindle-tree's pink berries, fastened in
+place with a silver pin.
+
+"Good day, or else good morrow, Ulwin," said Grim, scarcely attempting
+to veil the sneer in his voice. "Ye are late with your stock."
+
+"Late--aye!" panted the eldest, fattest, most showily-dressed of the
+newly arrived men. "Aye--late! All for women--hindered by women! I ask
+you, fellows, what should women do at fair or market, if they bring not
+wares to sell? Squander good money! Bedizen themselves to the nines!
+Would God that I had let thee from coming forth in thy prideful gear!"
+he snarled at her of the blue mantle. "Did I not say that thou wouldst
+seem no better than a tumbling-girl in the eyes of the folk? Dost thou
+mind that my brother lies in his grave?"
+
+Richard the Scrob's right hand closed upon the hurdle in a convulsive
+grasp.
+
+"It is five years since he died," said the woman.
+
+"Get behind me, and stay behind me, out of our way," said Ulwin. "See
+here, Alftrude, thou shalt not stir whence I now bid thee stand. I will
+not have thee waste our goods on womanish nothings. Geegaws and sweet
+foodstuffs, forsooth! What lacks the woman? Will she tell the world
+that we clothe her not nor board her?"
+
+She made no reply. For a moment she looked him full in the face: there
+was no reproach in her gaze, but only contempt and a spice of derision;
+then she turned and walked calmly, with unflushed cheeks, to join the
+other women in the background, and stood with them. The market-crowd
+surged all about them.
+
+"These are thine?" growled Ulwin to Richard, indicating the penned
+oxen.
+
+"Mine they were," answered Richard. "I sold them to Edmund the flesher
+of Worcester this morning, when the fair was but new-begun. But I have
+others, Ulwin Ednoth's son, if ye wish to buy."
+
+"Buy! Pah! no, not I! It is not of buying that I have to speak with
+thee, Richard."
+
+"Of what then, worthy thane?"
+
+"Indeed, it is not of buying that I have to speak with thee, Richard.
+Thou art learned in the law: because thou art so learned, the Lord
+Abbot deems thee worthy of his trust; but all thy cleverness could not
+teach thee.... How can I say, all-wise one, that thou didst not know?
+Well, the Lord Abbot knew not--aye, even I myself knew not--that
+Ashford, which thou callest thine, was not holden by us and by our
+father of the Abbot of Leominster, and that therefore neither the Abbot
+nor I might make over this land of Ashford to thee in exchange for ...
+such and so much cattle and silver ... two years ago."
+
+"Ashford is mine. I have set up a mill there, with the Abbot's
+licence."
+
+"Not thine, Richard the Scrob. I am Turstin of Wigmore's man for
+Ashford, and I may not go with it to any other lord;[15] and Turstin is
+wishful to uphold his right. As for thy mill ... well, thou hast made
+it, and there will be the tolls for me."
+
+          [15] He could not sell or convey it.
+
+"If there be any flaw in our dealings, then is it matter for the moot."
+
+"Now, understand me, thou!" shouted Ulwin, with a pompous gesture of
+the arms and an outward thrust of his swollen underlip. "That which
+thou hast tricked of me I will have again, yea, this day and this hour!
+Ulwin of the Moor is unwonted to waiting!"
+
+"Then, Ulwin, understand thou that Richard of Overton is unwonted to
+brook such words from any. At the bidding of none do I yield up mine
+own."
+
+Scarcely had Richard proclaimed his defiance than a thrill such as some
+much-desired presence imparts forced him to glance past the wrathful
+bully's left shoulder. The widow Alftrude was now close behind her
+brother-in-law, and studied the Scrob from head to foot with wide,
+wondering blue eyes.
+
+"I have nowise tricked you, Ednoth's son," said he, his countenance
+once more unperturbed. "Ye did chaffer with me for silver. This is
+matter for the hundredmen. They shall hear and try it."
+
+"Hearken, good neighbours, to the high and mighty words!" Ulwin jeered.
+"How will he speed when Englishmen are met together? Does he dream that
+their dooms are for the French?"
+
+"Come from here, now, master!" cried the high-pitched voice of
+Richard's servant Howel, in which agitation was patent. Ednoth, Ulwin's
+brother, pushed past Howel and jostled him roughly, in order to draw
+nearer to the two disputants. Howel flung up his head, his eyes
+kindling, and hissed an imprecation under his breath.
+
+"Hey? what hast thou there?" said Ulwin.
+
+"Nought, nought," Ednoth answered. "It is but a Welshman who bars my
+way."
+
+"No Welshman am I!" cried Howel the servant of Richard. "I am a man of
+Irchenfield--as good an Englishman as any of you here--and a better
+Englishman, too, than ye clumsy boors that think yourselves noblemen!
+When the King of the English marches with his army into Wales, we men
+of Irchenfield do go the foremost, that we may be the first to deal
+death, and----"
+
+"Do they dance in Irchenfield?" piped the maltman's son, as he shambled
+out of the crowd and swiftly inserted a furry object between the collar
+of Howel's jerkin and the back of his neck.
+
+"We shall soon see. Oh, merrily, right merrily--merrier and higher than
+in all Herefordshire else! On, on, brave Welshman! None here can hope
+to beat thee!"
+
+Loud was the spectators' laughter as the victim bounced up and down,
+shaking and tossing his limbs, and twisting his head and his body. When
+Richard had succeeded in dragging the weasel from out of his
+serving-man's garments, Howel rushed forward, bent on reprisal. Ednoth,
+the primary cause of the trouble, happened to be the person nearest: in
+a second Howel had him by the throat, and his short knife gleamed bare.
+
+Half a dozen bystanders instantly joined in the fray, most of them for
+the purpose of overwhelming the impudent Welshman of Irchenfield: in
+the midst of the turbulent knot were Ulwin, tugging at Ednoth's
+shoulders, and Richard, who held on to Howel by the arms and so
+compelled him to desist from stabbing at the Englishman.
+
+"Peace, thou fool!" cried Richard. "Leave be, now, Howel my man! I will
+not be embroiled for idle pride of thine. God's death! put up thy
+dagger!"
+
+Sullenly but promptly, Howel allowed his master to lead him out of the
+clutches of his assailants.
+
+"Peace, I beg of you, good men," the Norman continued. "We do but
+hinder the many that care not for our meaning. See, yon lady would come
+by!"
+
+The crowd had borne Alftrude away from her brother-in-law's side during
+the scuffle: she stood by the booth of a seller of gilded gingerbread,
+the nearest stall to the thanes' elmtree, a coin in one hand and two
+shining half-moons of cake in the other. Distaste and hesitancy were in
+the look she cast upon the brawlers.
+
+"Lady, fear not," said Richard. "If ye would but lean upon my arm----"
+
+Eagerly she moved towards him, in bland acceptance of his offer;
+however, before he could approach her, Ulwin had interposed himself,
+thundering:
+
+"Lay by yon nasty trash! Straight shalt thou wend thee homeward!
+Spendthrift! Shameless woman! Is this a widow's mourning? Is this
+modesty? Come home, I say!"
+
+He seized her by the arm, and in so doing trod heavily upon her toes.
+Alftrude's lips contracted, and her eyelids flickered with the pain,
+and she steadied herself against the gingerbread stall. Richard the
+Scrob was now beside them: with the first missile to hand, his own
+money-bag, he struck at the head of Ulwin; and Ulwin reeled and sat
+down upon the ground with a curse and a roar.
+
+"Foul clot of dirt!" said Richard. "I will not have thee deal so with
+her!"
+
+His money-bag was still in his right hand; but why was it no heavier
+than a strip of pigskin? Where was the reassuring weight to which he
+had grown used throughout that day?
+
+"Look, look!" the ale-wife screamed. "His ill-gotten silver of itself
+runs from him! Gather, gather, I say--it is his no more! All these
+French are to be driven forth. Shall he hoard king's coin in our land?"
+
+The well-worn bag had burst its seams, and pieces of money strewed the
+muddy ground.
+
+Thralls, boys, and children hurled themselves upon them; they
+struggled, fought, kicked and clawed up the mud, laughed ecstatically,
+and rushed about the green, each hugging what he had secured.
+
+The crimson faded from Richard's countenance, and he stood white as
+death and still as a stone. Alftrude hid her face in her hands.
+
+"Up, Ulwin!" exclaimed Ednoth. "Let us drive his cattle to Worcester
+for him--to Hereford--or to hell! Down with the Frenchman! Long life to
+Earl Godwin!"
+
+From under the elm stepped Ingelric the aged thane of Caynham, his
+beard half-covering his flowing moss-green robe.
+
+"No, no, it is unseemly!" he said. "Richard is my friend; he saved me
+once from debt and loss. If any man befriend me----"
+
+"Good folk," stuttered Kenric behind him, "this is more than a game! We
+are not thieves."
+
+But Ednoth and Grim had torn down the hurdles of the pen; the crowd had
+once more concentrated on that spot, and in another instant, shouting
+and shrieking, babbling and cheering, they chased and pelted the cattle
+of Richard the Scrob down Ludford street and out into the open country
+beyond.
+
+Alftrude had flung her arms about Ulwin. She seemed in a swoon: no, she
+was not fainting; her cheeks were aglow, and her finger-nails were
+embedded in her brother-in-law's neck.
+
+"Perot! Howel!" called Richard. "Come on, come on! To me!"
+
+The English, in their zeal for the dispersal of his cattle, had
+forgotten him. He ran between the outlying houses, followed by his
+servants, and upon the outskirts of the town they came face to face
+with the main body of the rabble, and drew their short swords.
+
+"Ere ye farther go," said Richard, "ye shall slay me and my men!"
+
+They bombarded the three with stones and dirt; a woman threw an egg,
+another hurled her market-basket with uncertain aim.
+
+"Tear him limb from limb!" snarled someone. "Surer rid of him so than
+by banishment!"
+
+Ednoth was advancing upon Richard, sword in hand.... There was a sudden
+hush, an awestruck murmur.
+
+"Lord Abbot! Lord Abbot!"
+
+"Hold your hands, in the Name of God and of His holy Church!" cried an
+imperious voice.
+
+Ednoth lowered his sword; the thanes uncovered their heads; many
+cowered, some stared resentfully; some slipped away in the tracks of
+the vanished cattle; the women fell on their knees. From the
+market-place came the Abbot of Leominster upon his fat white nag, with
+his chaplains and his retinue of men-at-arms riding behind him.
+
+"Ednoth of Moor, what would ye?" he demanded, flourishing the parchment
+roll that he carried in his bejewelled right hand.
+
+"Wherefore is the market all-to-wrecked? Would ye work murder upon
+harmless Ricardus here?"
+
+"Lord," said Ednoth, "here is a Frenchman who by craft sucketh the
+wealth from our land. Witanagemot is for putting an end to all such."
+
+"Indeed--and, Ednoth, art thou Witanagemot? Thou art too rash--ye are
+sadly unbridled, folk of Ludford. Hear the truth from me. There are
+surely many foreigners, Normans of the King's mother's people, who do
+craftily suck the wealth of England, and who bear not themselves truly
+towards blessed Edward our King; and Godwin and his Great Gemot have
+decreed that such shall go forth whither they came and leave the sway
+of England to Englishmen. But are there not some Normans, worthy
+fellows, whom no man could wish ill? Richard who dwells at Overton--has
+he not lived fifteen years among you, in good repute? In all
+Herefordshire is there no better dealer in corn and cattle: from
+Shrewsbury to Hereford is none more learned in the laws of English and
+of Welsh--none who can write a fairer hand--none of readier wit or
+smoother tongue: he hath been great help to me; how shall I spare him?
+Shall they bereave me of Ricardus? said I. I knelt before the King; I
+reasoned with stern Godwin; and ere I left London both had promised me
+my will. Yesterday the sheriff sent to me anent the outgoing of the
+French; and I have ridden since dawn, seeking Ricardus, that I might
+show him how Holy Church rewardeth goodwill for goodwill. Hugolin
+bideth about King Edward, they tell me, and Robert the Staller--they
+are faithful servants; as for the others, one Dumfrey--some outlandish
+name!... Hah! I have the sheriff's writing.... 'Banished be they all
+beyond seas, but Humfrey's Cocksfoot and Richard the Scrob.'"
+
+Richard bent to kiss the Abbot's ring.
+
+"Children, go your ways," the prelate continued, "with our blessing
+upon you. I rede you repent of your rashness. Ye are not robbers and
+rioters--no, but law-abiding English. Ricardus, come to me to-morrow
+morning: I have much to talk over with thee." So saving, he signed to
+his attendants, and ambled away.
+
+"My blessing, also, upon thee, worthy friend," a low voice said in
+Richard's ear.
+
+It was the blue-clad woman. Ulwin, with gashed forehead and scratched
+neck, was shepherding his kinsfolk in the direction of his abode.
+
+"Ashford shall be mine, O mighty Norman," said he with an exultant
+sneer. "Thy star is set, though abbots smile on thee."
+
+"Oh, Ulwin, brother!" exclaimed Alftrude--"oh, where is my silver
+bodkin? It is gone, Ulwin! And it was my mother's own! Can one have
+snatched it from me?"
+
+"Have ye seen it lying?" asked Richard of a group of persons lately
+come from the green.
+
+"What wouldst thou?" said Ulwin to Alftrude. "I bade thee leave the
+thing at home! Come on, thou spitfire--I will not wait."
+
+Old Ingelric hobbled up, and laid his hand upon Richard's arm.
+
+"Have no fear," he said. "Thou art not without friends. Though likely
+thou wilt not see thine oxen again, and who shall trace the coins----"
+
+Richard shook himself free.
+
+"The rogue who stole her pin!" he cried--"I will split his head also!"
+
+
+The grey cob plodded and splashed through the stream of slushy mud and
+half-thawed snow which represented the descending track from Ulwin's
+dwelling of the Moor to the highway between Ludford and Leominster.
+Upon him was Alftrude, closely muffled in a grey felt mantle, and
+beside him, holding the bridle, splashed and floundered a bare-legged
+boy, the bondman's son, with alder-clogs upon his feet. Alftrude rode
+in some discomfort, perched astride upon a man's saddle: her right arm
+supported a big wicker basket. The December sun shone out
+self-assertively: nevertheless the child slapped his free hand
+continually against his thigh, and often blew ruefully upon the fingers
+that clasped the reins. The widow, however, paid no heed to the moist
+chill of the morning air. Every now and again she glanced behind her.
+Once, in the shelter of the grove of hollies, she stopped for a moment
+to listen. There was no sound but the purring of a brook beneath its
+perforated covering of ice. She urged on her stolid steed.
+
+As they reached the heath, they heard the scrunch of a horse's hooves
+upon the ground they had just traversed. Alftrude turned her head
+nonchalantly; then she smote the cob such a sudden blow with her whip
+that the boy stumbled, and stared up into his mistress's face, aghast.
+About twenty paces more, and the Norman came up with her, riding alone.
+He would have passed her with "Good day to you, lady!" but she called:
+"Friend, stay awhile!" and he reined in his horse and proceeded beside
+her.
+
+"Master Richard," said she, "I would thank you meetly, if I could, for
+your great and neighbourly kindness, and beg forgiveness of you for
+that I have not myself done so until now. My mother's pin is the
+dearest of all my few possessions. Tell me, how came it into your
+hands?"
+
+"If ye be content, madame, I am honoured," said Richard. "It was no
+matter. The maltman's dunderhead son passed it about the ale-house that
+night. They gave it up when I did call for it."
+
+(This was not true. When Richard had seized the trinket from the thief,
+the ale-house company had fallen on him to a man, and had rolled
+ten-deep upon him about the floor, until their sense of fair-play had
+obliged them to draw off.)
+
+Alftrude was smiling her slow, comfortable smile. Could she--the gleam
+in her eyes seemed one of admiration--could she have heard what had
+really befallen?
+
+"I was like to weep when I saw it again," said she.
+
+They had reached the steepest slope of the hill. Richard the Scrob
+dismounted.
+
+"I will carry the basket," said he. "And I will lead your horse
+heredown. Let yon lad take mine. Whither make ye?" he continued, when
+the boy had fallen behind with his new charge. "Madame, I think ye
+should not fare abroad by such a slippery road and in such fickle
+weather."
+
+"I must to Ludford," she answered. "What think ye of this? There are
+seven young children at home, and in the house no spices nor dried
+grapes to make them Yuletide broth or Yuletide cake, and the housewife
+will not send any for these! Yet our bairns must have their Christmas
+fare like other bairns! so I am for Hildred the ale-wife, who has such
+sweet stuffs to sell." But even as she enlarged upon her purpose, her
+cheeks blushed red.
+
+"It is shameful!" said he, and his tone was full of warmth. "I like not
+their dealings with you, these kinsmen of your former lord!"
+
+"Good friend," said Alftrude, "how wilt thou do now? Thy cattle--thy
+money--the best of all thy gear! Great thy loss that evil market-day!
+Indeed I am abashed by the folk with whom I dwell!"
+
+"Why, I must stint and save, that is all. It will be no new thing--so
+have I done all the days of my life. When I first came over to join the
+train of Ralf the Earl, I had nothing but two silver pieces, my pen and
+inkhorn, and my wits. That was fifteen years ago.... They have been
+lonely years in England since Idonea died."
+
+"She was your wife?"
+
+"Idonea was my wife. She was of Bayeux--daughter of Robert the deacon.
+I had her but two years in this misty island. A short sickness bore her
+off."
+
+"Alack, alack! that is piteous!"
+
+"She fretted ever for Normandy. I think it was as well she died."
+
+Alftrude eyed him gravely, reflectively. Suddenly she shook with silent
+laughter.
+
+"Oh! oh!" she cried when she had recovered her voice, in answer to his
+manifest surprise, "ye would have laughed, Son of Scrob, had ye seen a
+sight that mine eyes beheld three nights ago. Know that Ulwin will ever
+have the swine and the fowls to wander in and out of the house, as they
+were mankind, that they may eat up the scraps of food which he throweth
+by among the rushes. Upon that night, my husband's mother and I had
+gone aloft with the maidens, when a mad hubbub arose--Ulwin shouting,
+threatening, praying--with such grunts and shrieks besides, ye would
+have thought the Fiend himself was there. We hurried down, and there
+stood my good brother, smiting upon his bed with a flail as strongly as
+his quaking hand would let him--and the fattest pig tangled in the
+covering of fat Ulwin's bed!"
+
+"Oh, gladsome sight!" exclaimed Richard. "Ye did work havoc upon that
+same Ulwin that day at the fair? Indeed I think I owe my life to a
+lady's finger-nails!"
+
+"Ye had avenged his roughness with me," she answered. "And I saw him
+rise to fall upon you."
+
+By this time they had emerged upon the highroad; and now there passed
+them two nuns riding sleek mules, and two serving-men, mounted also.
+
+"There goes Burghild of Caynham," said Alftrude. "It is now five years
+since she took her holy oaths. I would not be she for all the
+world--though, heaven wot! a nun's life is a peaceful life!"
+
+"There is peace to be found where no nuns are, lady."
+
+"Know ye her story, Richard Scrob's son? She is the thane of Caynham's
+daughter, and Godric the brother of Athelstane of Berrington loved her
+dearly, and she him. But his lands were small and barren, and he could
+offer her no fitting home, or so he thought. He would take service with
+some great lord, and store what wealth the saints might send him, that
+he might make yon maiden his wife. They met twice or thrice in the
+year, and I am sure each read the other's mind; but he never told her
+of his love and of his hopes. And she pined for him, and grew pale, and
+tart of mood. Godric went out with Earl Sweyn against the Welsh king,
+and was slain by the Welshmen. When Burghild heard these tidings, she
+fell sick of sorrow, even nigh unto death; but she is brave; she clung
+to life, and now she is the Church's bride. Oh, sad that lack of goods
+should sunder two true hearts!"
+
+"How could he speak, being a man without wealth?" said Richard. "He
+might not speak." He would not look at her.
+
+"He should have spoken," said Alftrude softly.
+
+"Now, as for these swine indeed, thy kinsmen----" cried he.... "Pardon
+my rough speech, Lady Alftrude; but I have marked how they treat
+you--you who were their brother's wife--better born than they, and
+better nurtured. As the dirt underfoot! Must ye abide beneath their
+roof? Is there none other with whom ye might dwell?"
+
+"My brother is a thane about the King's court. I have not set eyes on
+him for many a year. I have no other brother and no sister."
+
+"It is many a day since I have wondered how ye bore with them."
+
+"Since ye press me, Richard, I will own that my lot is hard. I have
+been widowed these five years. Since Winge my husband died, the land
+and goods with which he left me--aye, and mine own goods which I
+brought him--I may not call mine own. The first they till and order as
+they will, and the yield thereof they put with the yield of their land.
+As for the goods, they all lay hands upon them with never a 'by your
+leave' to me! Ulwin would have sold my mirror of steel last week, but I
+hid it.... Richard Scrob's son, there are two of thine oxen among the
+cattle at the Moor. At least, I am sure I saw them at Martin's Fair
+within thy pen."
+
+"Let them be. I have enemies enough at this time. To claim your goods!
+To sell your mirror!"
+
+"They grudge me this my new cloak," Alftrude continued, drawing a fold
+of periwinkle blue from beneath her winter wrapping. "True, it is not
+of my weaving; but mine own corn did I sell to buy the cloth. I believe
+they grudge me my mother's own jewels! Ulwin, and Alward, and Ednoth,
+and their mother, and the wives of the three. There would be no
+pleasure for any but Ulwin, if he could have his way: others must
+scrape and lack for him. A bad husbandman, too, is Ulwin. Men will give
+him but little for his crops and cattle. And that little leaves his
+poke that he may feast and game, and bet on sparring-cocks. But I think
+the women are the worst to dwell with."
+
+"And the housewife--your husband's mother? Has she no kindness for
+thee, who wert wife to her son?"
+
+"We were childless, Winge and I."
+
+"By holy Stephen! it is a weary life ye tell me of!"
+
+"I am well wonted to such weariness. I am four and twenty. A great age,
+Richard."
+
+"Madame, I am thirty-two, and I think that the sweetest of my life is
+yet before me."
+
+"Here is Ludford. Now, God speed you, lord," said she, holding out her
+hand to him. The next instant she withdrew it in confusion, exclaiming:
+"I know not why I clepe you lord!"
+
+"I know," said Richard, and took her hand. "Alftrude, I will see to it
+that thou become a very great lady."
+
+
+From the thicket bordering the pathway proceeded gasping, panting,
+maudlin complaints, and thickly-uttered curses; then came the sound of
+a feeble struggle as though a heavy body strove vainly to extricate
+itself from glutinous, liquescent soil. Richard the Scrob got down from
+his horse, handed the reins to Perot, who walked beside him, and strode
+in among the alders. The light of the sinking moon revealed a man lying
+face downwards, his legs submerged in a marshy pool, his hands clinging
+to a tuft of rushes. Having chosen a firm foothold, Richard seized the
+unfortunate by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him on to more or
+less solid ground. The bloated visage, streaming with mud, was just
+recognizable as that of Ulwin of the Moor.
+
+"Oh, oh--ah--oh!" he blubbered. "I am a dead man! Drowned dead--frozen
+to the inwards! One had bewitched the accursed nag that she might throw
+me!"
+
+Richard heard a horse cropping the wet fern a little distance away. He
+captured the offending animal without difficulty, and gave it into the
+care of his servant. Then he approached Ulwin once more, and took him
+by the arm in order to help him to his feet.
+
+"Dost thou dare?" cried the Englishman, striking aimlessly in the
+direction of his rescuer's chin. "I have no gold upon me--nought upon
+me! Murder! Murder by our lord the King's highway! Fellow, I am a
+thane, and my wergild a thane's wergild--twelve hundred shillings
+worth!"
+
+"No robber am I. Ulwin, I am Richard of Overton. Ye have known me this
+many a year--I am Richard the Scrob."
+
+"Scrob? Scrob? Eh, what is Scrob?" said the thane of the Moor. "Oh,
+aye--I mind--thou art the Frenchman--Richard--neighbour Richard. Well,
+Richard, my old nag tossed me off--bewitched is she, the jade! And
+Alward and Ednoth and the others--to hell with them for selfish churls!
+they rode on and left me here--would not wait for me--rode on and left
+me lying here.... I called--I called! Wending home from Wigmore....
+Cakes and ale had we--good eating and drinking at Wigmore, Richard....
+Left me here to drown! What think ye of that?"
+
+"Belike they missed thee not!" replied the other grimly. "Here is your
+horse. Try to get upon her. I think your bones are whole."
+
+Ulwin remained sitting in the mud.
+
+"Wa--la! wa--la!" He was weeping again now. "Wa-la-la and woe the day!
+Beggared am I and all undone! They set two worthy cocks to fight....
+Oh, a fair sight to see them at war! When all around would wager upon
+them, how might I not do likewise? One hundred shillings have I lost to
+the men of Wigmore! And, Richard, I am burdened with debt: one hundred
+and forty shillings in all do I owe among my neighbours. I must sell
+myself into thralldom--my wife--my hapless bairns! Let me flee the
+shire...."
+
+Richard brought a leather wallet from beneath his mantle.
+
+"No need," said he. "See here," and he unfastened the string which
+closed the wallet.
+
+"What?" shouted Ulwin, scrambling to his knees. "Money? Money? How
+comest thou by money? Art surely a sorcerer--a warlock--leagued with
+Satan and all his devils! Why, it is not three years since we--since
+thy cattle was driven loose and thy silver scattered and lost beneath
+the feet of Ludford folk!... Richard Scrob's son--good neighbour----"
+
+"Now, cease thy whimpering of a dog, Ulwin of Moor, if man thou be,"
+said Richard. "Shalt not sell thyself for debt. One hundred and forty
+shillings--such shalt thou borrow of me.... Nay, not now. At thine own
+dwelling, in the afternoon.... Give me Alftrude thy brother's widow to
+wife: that she will have me I know well. Half thy brother's
+morning-gift to her of land shalt thou keep; and if within ten years
+from this day thou owe me still that which I do pledge me here and now
+to lend thee, I will take again Ashford and its mill. They were truly
+holden of the Abbot, all the time."
+
+
+"So they have crowned French William at Westminster?" said Ulwin.
+
+"Aye, so was I told by one of Harold's men who came alive through
+Senlac slaughter," Grim replied. "This William is a stark man, they
+say; but he has sworn to abide by our old laws."
+
+The men of mark were gathered about Ludford elm. It was a warm, misty
+day in February. There was a fair upon the green for the sale of
+chickens, ducks, and geese.
+
+"I do think that these be lying tidings," said Tori the priest of
+Ludford. "Two kings dead within a year, and English and Welsh at peace
+in Herefordshire! I will believe there is such a William when I have
+set eyes upon him, and in the deaths of kings when I see kings lying
+dead. I am a stickler for the good old ways: I do not waste my prayers
+upon an unknown outlander, but beseech heaven for Edward and for his
+Lady as I have been wont all the days of my life!"
+
+"Under seven kings have I dwelt," Ingelric the ancient murmured
+dreamily. "First Ethelred, then Sweyn, then Canute. Canute was a Dane,
+but a better man than Ethelred. Then Harefoot, then Hardicanute, then
+Edward whom they call the Blessed. Well, well, peace to his soul! There
+were no more righteous folk in England after his crowning than before.
+And so the son of Godwin is cast down and slain! It is a little thing,
+children, where or of whom a king be born, if so be he govern strongly
+and wisely."
+
+"Now, Childe Edric, what say ye to this?" cried Ulwin of the Moor.
+
+"Father Ingelric, ye know that my mind is quite other," said a hoarse,
+far-carrying voice. The speaker, a weather-tanned young man, with
+bright grey eyes and a resolute chin, bent towards Ulwin and whispered:
+
+"The poor old man--he doteth!"
+
+"A fair tide for the ploughing," Kenric's elephantine tact prompted him
+to observe. "I think there will be no more frost nor snow."
+
+"We have one Norman here," said Ulwin to Edric. "Spared when the others
+were banished, through the might of the greedy Abbot. He has the
+Fiend's own luck. Frost and snow! I would the earth were ice-bound for
+his sake! I would the frost would shatter his plough-shares! I would he
+might drop dead as doth a sparrow!"
+
+"Richard is a good fellow," Ingelric interjected stubbornly. "And one
+king is much as another king."
+
+"Is it nothing to you all," cried Edric the Wild, "that England shall
+be no more England, but Normandy? What of Harold, our King and our Earl
+of late, and his bloody end? Must we all bow to the robber, because the
+men of the South loved their harvest-beer better than their
+motherland?"
+
+"We are free English!" said one; and another: "What shall we do?"
+
+"We have our hills and our woodlands," Edric continued. "When William
+sends his warriors amongst us, we will lead them jack-o'-lantern's
+dance, and utterly undo them. My men are all armed and ready to come
+forth whensoever I bid them; and I have the word of the Welsh lords
+that they will give us help."
+
+"If Howel of Irchenfield were here," Kenric remarked ruminatively, "he
+would tell you to put no trust in the word of a Welshman. And Howel is
+right: they do never cleave to us, though time and again have they
+sworn faith and truth unto our kings. And I have not seen Howel this
+day...."
+
+"Howel, Richard's man, say ye?" panted the ale-wife, as she deposited
+mugs of beer before two of her customers. "Howel passed the ford three
+weeks ago, or nearer four. I know not whither he went."
+
+"Richard also crossed over this day at dawn," said Munulf the maltman,
+"and with him his firstborn boy. They took the road to Stretton."
+
+"Hey? it is not like Richard to miss the fair," said Ulwin. "I see
+bondmen of his who watch his wares."
+
+"But not the goodwife?" said Kenric. "How not? She loves the mirth of
+the market."
+
+"Why, he liketh not that Alftrude bestir herself overmuch, or rub
+shoulders with all and sundry," answered Ulwin contemptuously. "Treats
+her as she were the Mother of God herself, or a queen at the least. And
+they have been wed eleven years!"
+
+"I met some of his men yesterday upon the heath," said Grim, "all
+mud-bespattered and outworn. What hath he now in hand, Ulwin?"
+
+"Pah! who can tell? He hath fetched a swarm of accursed
+foreigners--smiths and wrights--from overseas, and he must keep them
+busy. There is ever some new-fangled hewing or digging. He set a
+yew-hedge in the fall, ye know; and they say he will have a fish-pond."
+
+"Here is friend Richard," said Ingelric, "and the little lad also."
+
+Richard appeared upon the green, on horseback, accompanied by his son
+Osbern, aged ten, who rode a pony. Having tethered their mounts to two
+of a row of posts beside the ale-house door, they made their way to the
+elm-tree. The years had been generous towards Richard the Scrob. He was
+better clothed and shod than formerly, more serene, less spare. Osbern,
+the eldest of his children, had his father's firm mouth and his
+mother's clear blue eyes.
+
+"Greeting," said Ulwin, with an uneasy leer. "We talk of thee,
+neighbour, as a great man and a wealthy. Shouldst thank me for Alftrude
+and what she brought thee, which latter did surely set thee on thy
+feet."
+
+"Nay, Ulwin, surely I did set thee once upon thy feet, with timely
+loan. Hast thou forgotten, also, that I have had no answer from thee to
+a question I put to thee above a year and four months ago?"
+
+"What mean ye? Say all that ye mean aloud, in the ears of these thanes,
+and let them judge between thee and me!" Ulwin's brain was slow, but he
+rightly guessed that an explicit reply would follow, for Richard's love
+of litigation was notorious.
+
+"Thou knowest that I speak of Ashford, which wrongfully thou keepest
+from me, and of the hundred and forty shillings which thou borrowedst."
+
+"Thou knowest, and all here know, that Ashford is mine, holden of
+Turstin as lord," said Ulwin.
+
+"Turstin is not lord of that land; the Abbot is lord thereof indeed,
+and by the Abbot's leave did it pass from thee to me. And I did pay thy
+gaming-losses; and thou gavest me Alftrude my dear wife, and half of
+the land she had as thy brother's widow. I did swear to let thee be in
+Ashford for ten years, and thou to give it up to me when ten years were
+run, or to repay me the sum of my lending in gold."
+
+"Not so," said Ulwin. "I agreed with thee for Alftrude and half of her
+morning-gift from Winge. Why should she take more with her when she
+went from us to wed a needy foreigner?"
+
+"I have thy mark which thou settedst to the bond I wrote."
+
+"I made no mark. I saw no bond."
+
+"There is Ednoth's mark thereon, beneath thine own."
+
+"Say, brother Ednoth, have I pledged all this to Richard the Scrob by
+tongue or by pen?"
+
+"I know nought of it," answered Ednoth.
+
+Richard thrust his hands into his belt. The faintest possible shadow of
+a smile lurked at the corners of his lips. For a second his glance
+wandered absently to the rocky hill of Lude[16] which towered above
+Ludford on the farther bank of the Teme where that river turned
+northward to join the Corve, and for a fraction of a second rested upon
+the narrow track straggling round the southern side of the hill and
+descending steeply to the ford.
+
+          [16] Now Ludlow.
+
+"Bring witnesses to my mark and Ednoth's!" cried Ulwin with a gobbling
+laugh. "Bring witnesses to the Abbot's right! The hundredmen will laugh
+thee to scorn. This Richard is a liar, friends: guilt hath sapped his
+boldness, or wealth and good-living, belike; he who was wont to be so
+ready with his fists now quails before an Englishman. What, dost thou
+smile? Aha, thou thinkest on the Frenchman at Westminster! What deemest
+thou we shall make of thy Duke?"
+
+"What ye will, I doubt not," said Richard. "I am for law and order." He
+seated himself upon a root of the elm, and leant against the trunk.
+Every now and again he scanned what could be seen of the winding road
+about the hill of Lude.
+
+"Hear me once more," said Edric the Wild. "Ye should make ready against
+aught that may befall while these your fruitful acres are your own and
+all unscathed. The tyrant hath left his spoor of fire and steel from
+the South Saxon land to London town.... Why, Gunwert of Mereston! What
+tidings? Steady, man--drink first, speak after!"
+
+A weary, speechless man dropped from his horse to Edric's feet.
+
+"They come!" he gasped, when he had swallowed a mouthful of beer.
+"Sighted beyond Stretton.... From Shrewsbury ... in their
+hundreds--fully armed!"
+
+Richard, deep in the shadow of the tree, took the boy Osbern's hand and
+drew him down beside him.
+
+"Hasten, all!" shouted Edric, quivering with eagerness. "To every
+homestead where be weapons--tools--what ye can find! Hasten, hasten!
+Ride--gather your men together! We will beat them back at the ford."
+
+All were on their feet, all running--every thane, every churl, every
+thrall. Some dashed into houses and sheds, and bore thence sickles,
+scythes, axes, picks, shovels, and mattocks, and ancient rust-caked
+weapons; some seized the horses tethered by the ale-house door and
+sprang upon them. Richard, still holding Osbern by the hand, entered
+the town in the midst of the first contingent of those who remained on
+foot.
+
+"They have taken our horses," he whispered. "Silence now--we must not
+move nor breathe!"
+
+The maltman's barn opened on to Ludford Street, and they slipped within
+and hid between the outer wall and a rampart of odorous sacks. Edric
+drove the whole body of his compatriots out into the open. After a
+quick consultation with Ingelric, he set off with the old man on the
+shortest route to Caynham. Some made towards Ashford, some towards the
+Moor. A few splashed through the ford over which the grey waters of the
+Teme glided in their winter flood.
+
+An hour passed; another hour; the second hour after noon began. Richard
+was still in the maltman's storehouse, scarcely stirring from the post
+he had originally taken up, listening intently to every sound that
+penetrated from without. Osbern had perched himself upon a sack by his
+father's side, as motionless except for his fingers, about which he
+twined a piece of string in cat's cradle pattern. The voices of women
+reached them, the laughter of children, the swirl of water among the
+roots of the willows. Falling cobwebs powdered these two with dingy
+flakes; conflicting currents of air made the malt-dust dance all around
+them; they heard the patter of rats' feet, the dogged gnawing of a
+mouse. Suddenly a woman shrieked in terror----
+
+"Yonder--see yonder! Horsemen! horsemen! Yonder the death of us all! My
+man--where is he? Gone--left me here helpless! The Frenchmen! The
+Frenchmen!"
+
+Panic seized the women of Ludford (there were some twenty of them):
+tearful, voluble, or outwardly composed, they carried, dragged, drove
+their children up the street, across the green, and out of the town, in
+frantic search of masculine protection.
+
+Richard and Osbern stepped stiffly out into the street, brushing their
+garments as they went. Yes, there they were, the horsemen, filing along
+the hill-side track. The apathetic sun of late winter lent a sulky
+radiance to lance, mace, and scabbard, ringed hauberk, conical helm,
+and kite-shaped shield. Nearer they came--sixty in all, Richard
+guessed. The cavalcade appeared at the farther end of the street:
+men-at-arms, pursuivants, knights, esquires, and, behind his banner,
+riding alone, William fitzOsbern, Earl of Hereford and Lord of
+Breteuil, in the full splendour of vigorous manhood.
+
+"Seignior!" cried Richard the Norman--"Seignior, faictes grace a moy,
+qui suys de vostre sang!"
+
+William fitzOsbern threw an amused glance at a forgotten cobweb that
+adhered to the speaker's head.
+
+"Mort Dex!" said he. "Whom have we here?"
+
+"Richard of Overton, son of Hugh, son of Osbern, son of Walter of Rye
+in the Cotentin, where my nephew is now lord. Sir Count, the mother of
+my grandsire was cousin and nurse unto Herfast your own father's
+father, and unto noble Dame Gunnore his sister, spouse of our then
+Duke."
+
+"Thou art the Scrope. I have heard of thee. One named Perot spoke of
+thee with the King at Westminster; and that British fellow of
+thine--Howel they call him--guides the company of Ralph de Mortemar
+behind us upon the road. I have pressed on with another to conduct me,
+for I would reach the city of Hereford as soon as may be."
+
+"Seignior, I have dwelt for twenty years within your county that now
+is," said Richard, dropping on one knee, "and I pray of you justice and
+your puissant aid! The rascal English do me wrong, and they will not
+consider my cause, for I stand alone. One Ulwin invades certain of my
+lands and a mill which I myself set up beside the river: he first
+exchanged this Ashford for money and cattle of mine, then pleaded his
+no-right to sell."
+
+He paused. FitzOsbern had half-turned in his saddle and was surveying
+the rugged hill of Lude upon the other side of the ford.
+
+"What a rock of defence!" he exclaimed. "Careless fools to let it stand
+unfortified!... Well, I did look for thee to come to greet us; but
+alone? and--toil-stained, is it? I have seen no rascal English
+hereabouts. This seems a village dead or sleeping. Are ye the only
+persons here alive, thou and one child?"
+
+"News of your coming has reached these English, my lord, and they
+believe that your purpose is to spoil their homesteads, and so they are
+gone without into the country, gathering together all able men for
+resistance. Wild Edric of Clun was here but now, at work upon their
+fears. Though they be mostly on foot, and their weapons be rusty, they
+are more than we, and might bar your road to Hereford. Come with me, I
+pray you: on yonder hill I have a strong house, where ye, aye, and all
+these, may be safe."
+
+"Joyously will we partake of thine hospitality, good Richard, for an
+hour or so, although our march be thereby delayed. Thy Howel, I know,
+will lead Ralph de Mortemar to thy very door. Say, who is the lad? Son
+of thine, I wager."
+
+"My eldest son, so please you. Osbern, stand forth."
+
+"Hah! Osbern fitzRichard, how sayest thou?
+
+"Wilt thou serve my lady in bower and at board until such time as thou
+be old enough to ride with me into battle?"
+
+"Assurement, mon seignior!" replied the child, upon his knee beside his
+father in a moment. His French had the thick accent of an Englishman.
+
+FitzOsbern smiled down upon him.
+
+"Shalt learn more gracious French," said he, "but not more gracious
+manners. Well, let us be going."
+
+"Seignior," said one of the esquires, "I hear the tramp of many feet,
+but no voices at all."
+
+"The English!" cried William, and Richard the Scrob sprang to his feet.
+"They think to surprise us. It were best parley with them in the open,
+in peaceable guise. Boy, I will carry thee behind me."
+
+Osbern clambered on to the Earl's steed.
+
+"Sir, have I your leave?" asked Richard of Sir Walter de Lacy, who rode
+on the left of his master. Lacy nodded, and instantly Richard was
+astride behind him. He had scarcely mounted, when a strange, seething
+hiss resounded from one side of the street, and above their heads.
+Another hiss, and another: a splutter, then a crackle; and the thatch
+of the maltman's dwelling, which adjoined his barn, burst into
+steadily-spreading flame.
+
+"O Mary! happy thought!" they heard in the fatuous tones of the
+maltman's son Oswin. "Hem them right well about, and watch them cook
+alive!"
+
+"Thank God for burning pitch!" and in the indignant voice of Grim:
+
+"Thou oaf! Would thou had been born dumb! We had them snared!"
+
+A horse neighed shrilly; the other horses echoed the warning sound.
+
+"Quick, ere terror benumb them!" the Earl shouted. "Right about--a dash
+for it!"
+
+A bucketful of hot pitch streamed from one roof, hot charcoal cinders
+showered from another; some one flung a lighted torch. Another thatch
+was already on fire. The English were formed in a thin ring all round
+Ludford. The Norman charge scattered those at the bottom of the street,
+and the horsemen poured out.
+
+"Follow me!" cried Richard. "I know a way to baffle them. Ride,
+sirs--ride as ye were devils!"
+
+Edric of Clun, on horseback, planted himself in fitzOsbern's way with
+menacing gesture; William hurled his truncheon, hit him on the head,
+and sent him tumbling from his saddle. Ednoth clung like a vice to
+Richard's legs for some yards, and was thrown to the ground, and
+trampled by many hurrying hooves. The few mounted English tried
+valiantly to intercept the trained cavalry, but were unhorsed or put to
+flight.
+
+"To Richard's hall!" shouted Ulwin, from the background, where he was
+making tentative passes in the air with an antique sword. "Overton!
+Overton! Fire! Burn! Torches, I say--bring torches! Come on, all of
+you! Come, burn his house to the ground!"
+
+The Earl and his men had rallied to Richard the Scrob, who called and
+signalled to them from Walter de Lacy's crupper. He headed straight for
+the forest of Haye.
+
+"Warily now," said he. "There is much bogland."
+
+He led them westward, skirting swamps, threading apparently
+impenetrable thickets, with scarcely a pause. They could hear faintly
+the voices of a few Englishmen who cursed as they wandered among the
+briary undergrowth. The hindmost of the Normans looked back and saw
+Ludford flaming, crumbling, and falling into ruins.
+
+"It is mine own secret path," their guide announced. "Verily, mon
+seignior, I have prepared for your coming."
+
+They left the forest behind them, and rode through the hamlet of
+Overton.
+
+"Look yonder!" said Richard, pointing to the grey gleam of a stone
+rampart among the trees surrounding his mansion.
+
+"What is this?" laughed the Earl. "Have ye licence from King William to
+erect a castle within his realm?"
+
+"I am King William's loyal subject," the Scrob replied. "Of a
+certainty, our King will not grudge a timely shelter to his Earl."
+
+A curtain-wall, roughly but strongly compacted of quarried stone, of
+wood, and of rubble, surrounded and concealed the timber dwelling of
+Richard and Alftrude; at the western end of the enclosure the
+unfinished keep loomed upon its mount; and about them both an
+eight-foot moat was drawn.
+
+"The keep as well!" cried fitzOsbern. "Oh, guileful notion, to colour
+it with pitch! Only the hawk-eyed may spy it from the valley, for the
+foliage embowers it--and, man, ye can surely keep watch therefrom for
+many a mile!"
+
+At a blast from Richard's horn, the drawbridge was lowered, and several
+Normans in his service appeared upon the threshold, mail-clad and fully
+armed.
+
+"It was four weeks building, under Geoffrey of Rouen," said Richard,
+"and the moat was digging thirteen days more. I have engines of war
+within, and great store of missiles of stone. Enter, bel sire. They
+will not find it easy to burn this my dwelling about my head."
+
+"Let the peasants come!" said William fitzOsbern. "They must learn to
+know their masters; but please the saints! we shall not need to take
+the lives of many. Perchance the sweet peers of heaven may send that
+Mortemar find us before long.... Cousin, thou hast a pleasant view from
+thy fortress, even through such a narrow peephole. H'm! Rich
+forfeitures for our sovereign Lord! Thou shalt trouble thyself no more,
+cousin Richard, concerning lands and mills and cheating Saxons. As far
+and as wide as eye can see, from the sky that is our Lord God's
+footstool unto Satan's fires in the centre of earth, this same pleasant
+country shall be thine own, in reward for this day's fealty and
+service, and so I, William of Hereford and Breteuil, promise thee in
+the name of the King.... Nay, no thanks: kneel but one moment
+longer.... It is meet, sirs, is it not, that our leader in this
+engagement should hold the honourable rank of chevalier? We will
+account this a field of battle. Rise up, Sir Richard fitzHugh le
+Scrope!"
+
+
+The next morning, when the Earl of Hereford had gone his way, and the
+bodies of the only two Englishmen slain by Ralph de Mortemar's rescuing
+party had been borne to burial, the new lord of the Moor, of Ashford,
+of Ludford, and of Stanage rode out to display the extent and resources
+of his manors to his astonished lady. Their itinerary ended, they stood
+in the evening outside the moat and gazed at the placid, billowing
+country beneath them. Although by the cold, saffron light of a February
+sunset the misty course of the Teme was the only certain landmark and
+it was hard to distinguish meadow and ploughland, pasture and forest,
+they had to feast their eyes until the last glimmer faded.
+
+"With right tillage," said Richard, "it should yield me thrice its
+yearly value in grain. And I will have yet more sheep, and yet more
+cattle: there is now place for four times as many as ever I bred.... I
+have made thee great and famous, as I promised; and Osbern, with the
+Earl to favour him, should be an even greater lord than I.... Our
+fishpond shall go forward upon the morrow. What sayest thou to an
+orchard yonder, planted with apples of Normandy? and I think that
+Gascon vines would ripen passably upon our southern slope. O Alftrude,
+thou knowest how I have loved and pondered this land this many a year;
+and we shall have great profit of it, ma belle, thou and I together."
+
+Alftrude dwelt at Richard's Castle well content; for, as she sometimes
+observed when she looked round upon her flocks, her herds and her
+horses, her orchards, her cornfields, her vineyards, her chickens,
+ducks and geese, her hounds and her falcons, her fishpond, her smooth
+green lawn, her yew-tree alley, her doves and her peacocks, and her
+band of healthy children, there was no reason at all why she should not.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Star of Mercia, by Blanche Devereux
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+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Star of Mercia, by Blanche Devereux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Star of Mercia
+       Historical Tales of Wales and the Marches
+
+Author: Blanche Devereux
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2012 [EBook #39903]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAR OF MERCIA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by sp1nd and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+<p class="fm1">
+  Star of Mercia
+</p>
+
+<p class="fm2">
+  Historical Tales of Wales and the<br>
+  Marches <i>by</i> Blanche Devereux
+</p>
+
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/logo.jpg" alt="Publisher's logo" width="120" height="118">
+</p>
+
+<p class="fm3">
+  <i>With an Introduction by</i><br>Ernest Rhys
+</p>
+
+<br>
+<p class="fm4">
+  Jonathan Cape<br>
+  Eleven Gower Street, London
+</p>
+
+
+<p class="fm4">
+  <i>First published 1922</i><br>
+  <i>All rights reserved</i>
+</p>
+<br>
+<p class="fm5">
+  <i>Printed in Great Britain by</i> Butler &amp; Tanner, <i>Frome and London</i>
+</p>
+
+<hr class="med">
+
+<a name="intro">&nbsp;</a>
+<p class="section">
+INTRODUCTION
+</p>
+
+
+<p>
+There are three reading-publics to which a
+tale-writer who attempts the uncertain business
+of writing about Wales may appeal. One is the
+homebred Welsh public that asks for a tale in the
+old tongue, <i>yr hen iaith</i>, and has never been quite
+satisfied, I believe, by any novel or short story
+about its life, or its real or romantic concerns,
+written in English. The second is the quasi-Celtic
+public, which may or may not know the <i>Mabinogion</i>
+or Borrow's <i>Wild Wales</i>, and is glad of anything
+that gets the romance atmosphere. The third is
+the ordinary fiction-loving English public, which
+asks for a good story, rather likes a Welsh background
+as in Blackmore's <i>Maid of Sker</i> (a much better book
+than <i>Lorna Doone</i> to my mind), and does not trouble
+about the fidelity of the local colour in the reality
+of the setting. It is from the second and third
+of these audiences that Miss Devereux can look to
+gain her "creel-full of listeners," as the story of
+<i>The Yellow Hag</i> has it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She has, to begin with, the genuine tale-teller's
+power of using a motive, a bit of legend, or a proverbial
+and stated episode, and giving it fresh life
+and something original out of her own fantasy.
+In her way of narrative, she does not adopt any
+rigorous ancientry. She has a sporting sense in
+dealing with an archaic character like <i>Mogneid</i>,
+and is satisfied to see him hammer at a door with
+the butt of his riding-whip. She will make <i>Gildas</i>
+and <i>St. David</i> or <i>Dewi Sant</i>, collogue as they never
+did in the old time before us; and devise a comedy
+and a drunkard's tragedy of her own for a wicked
+old sinner like King <i>Gwrthyrn</i>, just as she mixes
+chalk and charcoal freely in the Saxon cartoons
+that follow the Welsh. The important thing is,
+she makes her people live, and by the bold infusion
+of the same old human nature with prehistoric
+Welsh and old chronicler's English, she succeeds
+in creating a region of her own. It is not literally
+Cymric or Saxon; but it is instinct with the
+fears, loves, hopes and appetites that never decay,
+and realizes alike the drunkard's glut and the
+saint's mixed piety and shrewd sense.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In her story of <i>Saint David</i> she has gone to the
+old "Lives" and the documents for some of her
+colour. There are passages that may terrify the
+modern reader, who has no Welsh and does not
+know how to pronounce <i>Amherawdwr</i> (the Welsh
+form of imperator or emperor), <i>Dyfnwal</i>, <i>Llywel</i>
+or <i>Cynyr</i>. The average English reader who is
+brought up on soft and sibilant C's and i-sounding
+Y's will probably end by turning the last name
+into "sinner" in vain compromise. And possibly
+Miss Devereux is too hard on the average un-Celtic
+reader; for though she turns <i>Gwy</i> into Wye, she
+retains <i>Dyfi</i> for Dovey. But these are the pleasant
+little inconsistencies that exist in every English
+writer, from Shakespeare and Ben Jonson to Sir
+Walter Scott and George Meredith, who has attacked
+the impregnable old fortress of the British tongue.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is interesting to compare the two tales of
+wilder Wales with those of Mercia and Saxondom
+that succeed them in this mixed story-book. The
+first are realized almost entirely, you will discover,
+from the man's point of view. The Saxon tales
+are more intimately felt, and realized from the
+woman's dramatic angle. It is avowedly so in the
+chronicle of Winifred, Ebba's daughter, telling the
+grim love-story of Earl Sweyn the Nithing and
+Algive. This is in texture, and reality of presentment,
+maintaining the pseudo-archaic mode with
+just the faintest reminder of the modern tale-teller
+pulling the puppet-strings, on the whole the completest
+of all these new-old tales. In the portrait
+of Algive, tenderly and joyously painted, there is
+a faint reminiscence of a Celtic romance-heroine
+like Olwen (in the <i>Mabinogion</i>), which adds to the
+charm. And in other ways it will be found by the
+story-loving and unprejudiced reader, who reads
+for the pleasure of the thing, and not for criticism
+or edification, that these <i>Tales of Two Regions</i> gain
+by carrying over at times the atmosphere of the
+one&mdash;never so lightly indicated&mdash;into the actual
+presentment of the other.
+</p>
+
+<p class="sig">
+ERNEST RHYS.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+1922.
+</p>
+
+
+<hr class="med">
+
+
+<p class="section">
+CONTENTS
+</p>
+
+<table summary="Contents">
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">&nbsp;</td>
+<td class="pg"><small>PAGE</small></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">Introduction</td>
+<td class="pg"><a href="#intro">5</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">Gwrtheyrn the Drunkard</td>
+<td class="pg"><a href="#I">11</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">Dewi Sant</td>
+<td class="pg"><a href="#II">35</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">Star of Mercia</td>
+<td class="pg"><a href="#III">65</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">Earl Sweyn the Nithing</td>
+<td class="pg"><a href="#IV">86</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">Edith's Well</td>
+<td class="pg"><a href="#V">109</a></td>
+</tr>
+
+<tr>
+<td class="txt">Richard the Scrob</td>
+<td class="pg"><a href="#VI">120</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="med">
+
+<a name="I">&nbsp;</a>
+<p class="firstchapter">
+Gwrtheyrn the Drunkard
+</p>
+
+<div class="head">
+<p>
+"<i>Vortigern of repulsive lips, who, drunken, gave up the Isle of
+Thanet to Hengist.</i>"
+</p>
+
+<p class="sig">
+&mdash;<span class="sc">Welsh Triads.</span>
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<p>
+Mogneid son of Votecori tapped upon the lintel of the open doorway and
+called "Ho, there! Is there refreshment for wayfarers?" From within
+came a luxurious sound of snoring. Mogneid muttered a curse, and began
+to hammer impatiently with the butt of his riding-whip. The father of
+the household coughed, rolled heavily from his bed of rushes, and
+appeared at the door&mdash;an old man, blinking with sleep, but collected
+and courteous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What, lord?" said he. "There is tired you are now! How may I serve
+you? Please you share the shelter of my roof till evening!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, not so," Mogneid replied, "I am in haste to reach my journey's
+end. Give us to drink, sir, I pray you&mdash;beer, milk, or water&mdash;what you
+will&mdash;anything! We are dried up with this dust! And tell me, if you
+can, how far hence dwells Gwrtheyrn the King?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Without waiting to answer, the old man hobbled away, and returned a
+few minutes later with a big stone pitcher and two little cups of
+horn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Alack, my friend," he grumbled, "they have taken all the beer. They
+are all gone to mow the hay, look you, my son and the women! and I am
+left to milk the cows and tend the livestock. Sore thing it is that
+old age comes so soon! Well, lord, if ye will not stay to cleanse your
+feet and enter my dwelling, let us at least converse in the shade.
+Here is new milk, that quenches thirst." He led Mogneid and his four
+serving-men beneath the boughs of a great hawthorn-tree, the only
+ornament of his straw-littered, pig-frequented entrance-yard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Seek ye King Gwrtheyrn?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He dropped thankfully on to a low seat surrounding the tree trunk, and
+Mogneid sat down beside him, quaffed at the creamy liquor, and wiped
+the dust and sweat from his countenance. The traveller was a
+middle-aged man, thin and muscular, with a dark grizzled beard, and
+vague-looking light blue eyes that missed sight of nothing that went
+on around him. Upon the backs of his hands was tattooed a mystic
+design of circles interlaced.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am from the land of Dyfed, reverend sir," he answered, "and I
+travel to the court of Gwrtheyrn son of Guitaul, lord of Ewyas, of
+Erging, and of Caer Glouwy. My folk were somewhat akin to his, many a
+generation ago, and there is talk of a marriage between my niece and a
+lord of Gwent who follows King Gwrtheyrn. If I mistake not greatly, I
+am now not very far from my kinsman's palace."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Noble lord," his host rejoined, "if ye be akin to Gwrtheyrn our King,
+doubtless ye lament, as we do, his fall from greatness. Our Gwrtheyrn,
+heaven protect him! was lord of all the armies of Britain&mdash;like the
+commanders of the Romans, see you now; and in truth a very great
+prince is he; none braver, or taller, or more just and more generous.
+But the pirates came by sea on every side; and those Britons of the
+East&mdash;they cannot fight like us men of the west; so King Gwrtheyrn
+sought to procure peace, that the land might have time to rest and
+gather her strength. When the chieftains of the Saxons, or Jutes, as
+they call that tribe of them, came to confer with him, they feasted
+well together, and Gwrtheyrn looked with eyes of love upon the
+daughter of Hengist the Jute; and he wedded her, and gave to her
+kinsmen a parcel of land in Kent, to hold under him, that they might
+aid him to beat off all other robbers. But after this there was no
+peace at all. God's curse on the Saxon ruffians! Would they keep
+within their boundaries, think you? Nay, they disquieted the Britons
+upon every side. Then the lords of Britain, with old Emrys at their
+head, grew angry, and refused to follow Gwrtheyrn longer: even
+Gwrthefyr, his son by the Roman woman, declared for another
+Amherawdwr<a href="#note1" name="noteref1">
+<small>[1]</small></a> and other ways. So what was left to Gwrtheyrn, when they
+had taken from him the government of Britain, but to dwell here in the
+land of his fathers, amongst his own natural born people, and rule
+over us?&mdash;and there is well he does rule over us&mdash;yes, yes! I and my
+sons were with him in his army, in the grand old days&mdash;not so very
+long ago, truly. And behold me now&mdash;a life fit for a cart-horse! And I
+a free tribesman of Gwrtheyrnion!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, from thy saying," said Mogneid, "thou bearest great love to
+Gwrtheyrn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed yes!" cried the old man. "These are ill times we live in!
+Emrys commands in Britain now, or would command&mdash;but when all is said
+and done, he is only lord of Morganwg. And he is a stark Roman, who
+will have all things cut and dried about him. I tell you, I have a
+very little opinion of these Romans, and of them who follow in their
+steps. I have often heard my father tell of them. They came to our
+land, and cut down our fair sheltering forests, and carried away our
+fighting men to their own wars, so that Britain was left naked to the
+Saxons. As for their priests&mdash;sir, I perceive you to be from the west,
+where, I hear, priests are few&hellip;. Well, well! father Pewlin says,
+when the ague torments me, 'Pray that thou mayest be given strength to
+bear the trial.' Not such for me! I have fastened a scrap of my
+clothing above the old healing&mdash;well out yonder."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The old gods are indeed very wise! And Gwrtheyrn son of Guitaul? How
+does he pass his time?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Alack that I must tell it! Is the caged beast as princely and as
+mighty as he that roams abroad where he will?&hellip; Sometimes he hunteth
+the stag or the boar&mdash;and there is metheglin, or wine, perchance&mdash;and
+good beer. What else is left to our lord Gwrtheyrn? he who was a hero
+in good King Arthur's time! That fat-faced Queen&mdash;I trow she is no
+stay to him! 'The sweet Verge of Drunkenness!' That was a song my
+father used to sing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Most honoured sir," Mogneid broke in, "I thank you very heartily for
+your kind entertainment. But I must press on upon my road. I shall
+praise your hospitality to my noble cousin, believe you me. Tell me, I
+pray you, how soon I may be with him?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fifteen miles and more is Caer Gwrtheyrn from here. Cross you
+Clywedog and Ithon both. From the ford of Ithon there is a
+bridle-track the whole way. May the Saints and Mary keep you! and all
+the powers that be! May you suffer no violence, and may no goblin or
+hound of hell affright you!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May all the powers bless you, my father! May the She-Greyhound of the
+Heavens,<a href="#note2" name="noteref2">
+<small>[2]</small></a> who maketh fat both land and cattle, favour you! Fare ye
+well!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mogneid and his little train set forth once more. They reached the
+glen of Trawscoed in the cool of the evening when the sky was aglow
+with amber lights and calm turquoise depths.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Caer Gwrtheyrn, the residence of the King of this country, which took
+the name of Gwrtheyrion from its then lord, rose a mile or so before
+them, upon the heights of Mynydd Denarch. As the Demetian cast his eye
+over the surrounding country, in the east, upon the track that
+descended from the hills of Gref-o-dig and Bron-y-Garn-llwyd, he
+caught sight of what looked to him like the glint of the sun on steel
+helmet and corslet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mogneid lost no time. He quickened his pace, and reached the gateway
+of Caer Gwrtheyrn in about fifteen minutes. Soon the customary ritual
+was fulfilled: his feet were bathed by the porter, to signify his
+acceptance of hospitality for the night, and the King's door-keeper
+ushered him into the castle hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was dark already there. The torches smoked foully. There was a
+manifold smell of beer, roast meat, barley-broth, rosemary and
+woodruff, dogs and humanity. Mogneid felt that he could never find his
+way except perhaps by the sense of touch. Presently a loud, harsh
+voice rang out:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Who is it? Who? What say you? Thou didst not inquire? What have I
+told thee? I will have the name and ancestry of every considerable
+visitor to my house&mdash;announced to me"&mdash;the voice spoke thickly&mdash;"as
+has always been my wont! Curse thee for a numskull! Whom have we
+here?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mogneid, who had reached the head of the board, looked up, and saw,
+scowling down upon him, a gigantic, loosely-built personage, of
+dignified bearing for all his violence&mdash;the wreck of a fine man, with
+a flushed face and swollen, bloodshot eyes&mdash;Gwrtheyrn, King of
+Gwrtheyrnion, Erging and Ewyas, whom the Britons had deposed from the
+sovereignty of them all for all his ill-judged policy and for what
+they deemed extravagant, un-British notions&mdash;Gwrtheyrn the Goidel, of
+the foreign "repulsive" lips.<a href="#note3" name="noteref3">
+<small>[3]</small></a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gracious lord," said Mogneid, "it is your humble kinsman, Mogneid,
+son of Votecori, son of Maelumi, from the land of Dyfed, praying that
+he may sojourn awhile under the King's protection. There is a family
+matter in question, O Gwrtheyrn, in which I seek the aid of the
+chieftain of my tribe."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Son of Votecori!" cried Gwrtheyrn, with outstretched hand. "My
+father's cousin's son! Now welcome, kinsman. Ho! bring meat and wine
+for the Lord Mogneid! Thou must eat ere we further confer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seated by the side of his host, the new-comer feasted upon broiled
+mutton-chops, which were carried in from without, for during the
+summer weather Gwrtheyrn's food was cooked in a kitchen in an
+outhouse. The King's hall was crowded, but the company presented few
+elements of interest to the man of Dyfed. The Jutish Queen sat upon
+Gwrtheyrn's other hand, counting the stitches in her needlework; she
+had a broad face, a square full chin, and heavy auburn plaits. There
+were a few old women, her attendants; the huntsmen, servants, and
+men-at-arms; some rustic noblemen, talkative and disputatious; and
+some half-dozen of the King's pages or foster-sons, who squabbled in
+whispers over noughts and crosses chalked upon the empty hearth-stone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord," said Mogneid, "there come others to claim hospitality of thee
+ere nightfall, I do think. As I looked back upon the eastern valley, I
+beheld a party of horsemen, clad in steel armour, such as the Romans
+wear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Art clever, kinsman," Gwrtheyrn replied. "It is Emrys, to a
+certainty! or emissaries of his! Well that we are warned. They shall
+be warmly received, I promise!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whence comes Ambrosius?" Mogneid asked. "As I travelled hither, I
+heard of him at Caerdydd."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look you, cousin," said Gwrtheyrn, "Ambrosius and I have some
+contention toward, concerning my lordship of Buallt, of which this
+overweening person claims the right to dispose, forsooth!&mdash;One cup
+more, kinsman Mogneid; it is of the Kentish vintage. Now when these
+Romanizers&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are here," said Mogneid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In truth, the clatter of horses' hooves resounded outside the
+building, and the voices of men. Twenty mail-clad soldiers entered the
+hall, with a keen-faced leader at their head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Greeting, King Gwrtheyrn," the officer cried, "from Ambrosius the
+Imperator!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Greeting!" returned Gwrtheyrn shortly. "What would the Lord Emrys say
+to us by your lips?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thus says Aurelius Ambrosius to you, O Gwrtheyrn King of Erging: The
+renowned and mighty lord Ambrosius himself is now at Buallt, whither
+he is come to bestow the lordship of those lands&mdash;which are his as
+much as thine by hereditary right, be it said&mdash;upon the valiant prince
+Pascent thy son, for fitting appanage and livelihood. And he charges
+thee, O Gwrtheyrn, to attend him straightway, upon the morrow, to
+witness the installation of thy said son in all due form and order."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fore God!" Gwrtheyrn roared, "this is passing insolence! Hence to thy
+master, sir, and tell him that Gwrtheyrn permits not that another
+force from him what is his own! Or if it be too late now to make the
+return journey, why, there are my villeins' cow-houses at your service
+for the night. Ye shall have a guard set over you while ye are
+sleeping. Out of our presence, instantly, by blessed Paul!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"So be it," said the soldier. "We will back to the lord of Britain."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While they were departing, the Queen and her women rose and withdrew.
+The foster-children went out into the twilit courtyard to play; the
+servants, after removing the dishes and the victuals, one by one left
+the room. Mogneid drew his seat closer to that of Gwrtheyrn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ticklish fellows, these mongrel Romans," he observed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The King was drinking deeply; the veins of his forehead still throbbed
+with rage and shame. By and by he put down his cup, and began to talk,
+with much gesticulation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Romans! Romans! Romans! Curse them all, high and low, up and down!&hellip;
+Ambrosius their tyrant, to the lousiest beggar's brat&mdash;and&mdash;&mdash;What
+good are they to the clans of Britain?&mdash;with their fine habits and
+their sickly vices? What good to me was my wife Severa, Maxen's
+daughter? Ye see what sons she brought me&mdash;Gwrthefyr, and Cyndeyrn,
+and Pascent&mdash;cleave to Ambrosius, and forsake their own father! Here,
+in the west, are men mightier and taller and braver than all their
+enfeebled town-dwellers. Good fighting Goidels&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All men do know as much," said the other. "For my part, I would that
+my kinsmen were the chief men of the land."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God!" panted Gwrtheyrn. "What is gone is gone&mdash;for ever." He looked
+upon his companion with a watery eye. "Thou art verily welcome, good
+Mogneid. A man is always glad to gossip with one of his own blood,
+especially after long time of dreariness. Few guests knock at my
+castle-gate&mdash;we are out of the run of life nowadays, alas! alas!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The monotony and the squalor were all too evident.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It were surely unjust," said Mogneid, in soothing tones, "that Buallt
+should be taken from thee."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And shall I suffer it? I have my favourite hunting-lodge in that
+lordship. They are my lands&mdash;my lands! It pleases me to dwell there!"
+Gwrtheyrn shouted with maudlin vehemence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is your purpose, O King?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, that&mdash;I know not. But he shall not have my lands! Look you,
+kinsman, it is near the harvest-time: I think my men will not come
+willingly to arms."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then speak Ambrosius fair, biding thy time. Go not to Buallt, if thou
+like not the indignity; and when the harvest is over, levy thy forces
+and win back thine own. Is there difficulty in this?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All the priests are ever on the old fox's side. A man cannot well
+struggle if he have holy Church against him. These are evil days
+indeed. They meddle in everything, these rascally adze-heads.<a href="#note4" name="noteref4">
+<small>[4]</small></a> Now
+in the days of old, we could worship whom we would, aye, and how we
+would. Prosperous days!&hellip; There were the sacred fires at the spring
+and at the fall&mdash;those were things of power; they made the earth yield
+bravely and plenteously. I remember I have run through the bonfires,
+myself, many a time, when I was a child. And the magic of the wise
+ones&mdash;I swear each spell was worth ten blessings of a priest!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The King speaks soothly. In Dyfed there are many who do think as we,
+and who will scarcely permit the new-fangled faith to show its head.
+It is not too late, O King, to throw off the yoke of the Romanizers.
+Ye are all the world yet to your own people; they hate to see you idle
+and dispossessed. There are many men of my country eager to rise at
+your bidding: I know their minds."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Cousin, this is a cheerful saying! Thy coming has filled me with
+hope."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Know then that the ancient wisdom is mine, perfectly: from my
+childhood was I trained up in it by the last survivors of the
+venerable sacred order. Listen, then, my lord, that should be King of
+all the kings of Britain, to the words of the high gods that they have
+spoken unto Mogneid! Thus and thus, O Gwrtheyrn, foretold the entrails
+of the slave-boy accepted of Ceridwen&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<hr class="short">
+
+<p>
+"Lord King," said Eliseg the chief huntsman, "it is not meet, nor is
+it wise, to talk of intimate matters with the scavenger of the
+by-ways. In other words, master, there is an old crafty bird, called
+cuckoo, who stealeth the nests of others that his own offspring may
+grow and flourish. Few have seen the cuckoo, but there are some that
+have had sight of him. The cuckoo is perfectly familiar to me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aye, so," said Dyfnwal the King's chamberlain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By Hu the Mighty! speak plainly, Eliseg, or else hold thy tongue,
+thou naughty rogue!" cried Gwrtheyrn; but he smiled upon his trusty
+servant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord, I think ye cannot know what ye are about. The cuckoo of my
+simile, look you, he is the new-come guest, the lord from Dyfed, from
+whom the King has no secrets. This is not the first time this man has
+crossed my way. In Dyfed I was born, and there my wife's parents do
+still dwell. O King, this is Mogneid the Druid, of very evil fame!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The devil take thee for a lying slanderer! Mogneid is near of kin to
+me, within the nine degrees. He is a worthy prince, and fit to company
+me in all my undertakings. Well, and if he be learned in the ancient
+wise things&mdash;what can we show to-day to compare with the might of our
+forefathers?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By my dogs and my horns and my leashes! King Gwrtheyrn," said Eliseg,
+"we seek not to meddle impertinently, Dyfnwal and I, look you. But I
+have served you four and thirty years, and Dyfnwal thirty, day in and
+day out, in storm and shine, and we would not, for the love we bear
+you, that ye should now ride for a fall."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We speak as your friends," Dyfnwal grunted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is a dangerous reptile ye have sheltered," continued the other.
+"Dreaded is he throughout the land of Dyfed for his unfathomable
+deeds. He has all the art of the Druids; and he is the last of the
+brood, God be praised! The days of darkness are over, my king: men
+will no longer take succour from the wiles of devils, thanks be to the
+Lord Christ and to Mary the dear Lady of mankind!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Will ye hold your peace?" stormed the King. "Get you gone, both of
+you, or I will have your tongues slit for you! What next, what next, I
+ask you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The tantrums of him!" said Eliseg, when they two were outside the
+door. "Dyfnwal, look you, I fear that this fellow will bring peril
+upon the King. He was never up to good from the hour wherein he first
+drew breath. He is up and down the country, about and about, each day,
+questioning every gaffer and goodwife, every lad, lass, and babe that
+will waste the precious hours talking with him. Already Lord Gwrtheyrn
+is never from the metheglin. We must let nothing escape us, lest our
+master be undone."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have eyes," said Dyfnwal. "I use them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hist! I see him," exclaimed the huntsman. "Grows there gold in the
+villeins' hay-meadow, think you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Within the hall, Gwrtheyrn raged and muttered. When his wrath began to
+cool, he felt the want of the congenial society of Mogneid. This
+King's life was a lonely one. The Queen spent hours at spinning and
+carding, weaving and embroidery; and although she would listen,
+nodding and smiling, at any time to her husband's remarks, she seldom
+spoke, and her thoughts seemed always far away, at rest upon things
+serene and pleasant. So it came about that he seldom sought her
+company. Why must his kinsman tarry so long from him? wondered
+Gwrtheyrn. He gulped down a cupful of metheglin, and then another, and
+subsided into a chair, to wait.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mogneid came up the hill, smiling to himself. He knew the lie of the
+country of Gwrtheyrnion well by now, and the disposition of its
+people. He entered the castle hall. To his surprise, early in the day
+though it was, Gwrtheyrn sat propping himself nicely in his chair of
+state: a gold cup, relic of the sack of some Romano-British villa, lay
+at his feet, and there were splashes of metheglin on the floor. The
+King's mood was benign and expansive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Want thee&mdash;tell me," he greeted him. "Old preaching devil! Alleluia!
+and they all ran away! Whatshisname?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Garmon, perhaps," answered Mogneid. Affecting indifference, he
+watched his kinsman narrowly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Garmon&mdash;yes&mdash;yes&mdash;that's he. Father of the king of devils! Well,
+Garmon&mdash;he's here. He's sent me a message." &hellip; Gwrtheyrn seized his
+cousin's arm. "I'll tell thee a secret. Knowest thou my first wife's
+niece? Knowest her? A most sweet lass! She came to me, two years ago,
+being widowed and very young, and having no protector. I have her now,
+in the little summer dwelling of Rhaiadr Gwy. None know&mdash;the Queen
+knows not. Well&hellip;. It has leaked out somehow&hellip;. Holy Garmon sends to
+tell me that we are a scandal far and wide, and bids me mend my way of
+life. The old fool! Calls her my daughter! Understand, she's not my
+daughter. Not my daughter! Wife's niece!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou must send her away!" cried Mogneid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Don't want to send her away. 'Tis a pretty chuck&mdash;she pleases me&hellip;.
+Besides"&mdash;he beamed&mdash;"we have a son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All this is nought!" Mogneid insisted harshly. "Will you risk all we
+have schemed for, my lord, for one girl? Put her from you, I say!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had used too rough a tone. A look of distress crept across the
+stupor of the King's countenance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This priesthood! 'tis a cursed powerful thing," he said, with the
+stirrings of cunning apparent. "Old Garmon&mdash;he has the ear of
+Ambrosius. And these Christians show forth miracles in plenty."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lord, they are not the only wonder-workers. Can it be that the
+wise men of old, who raised the giant stones for the temples, and
+forged the swords and shields that none now can fashion, were weaker
+than these unlettered saints? And their lore abides in me, and in some
+few instructed ones in the west country. Now, Gwrtheyrn, my king, what
+can a man's will do not, if he foster and train it by supernatural
+discipline? And what is the first work of the will but to sink our
+enemies?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is the end of man, Mogneid?" said Gwrtheyrn. "Shall he be born
+again, Mogneid? Perhaps from the crop of a hen? Shall he? From the
+crop of a hen!"<a href="#note5" name="noteref5">
+<small>[5]</small></a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is no end to the soul," Mogneid replied. "And every soul
+returns to a body when he may find one. Come, O King, take heart. We
+shall trample upon the necks of Ambrosius and Garmon."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Kinsman, do what you can," said the King. "I rely on you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mogneid left him then, and sought the Queen's apartment. He despised
+the King's wife, but as a tool she might be useful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gwrtheyrn, sobered now, beat his brow in turmoil of another sort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Beast or bird"&mdash;he cried&mdash;"man or woman&mdash;or wandering, bodiless
+spirit! Or purgation by fire&mdash;or to roast in flames for ever! I
+believe&mdash;I believe in hell! God&mdash;if Thou beest God &hellip; O Christ,
+Christ! I am lost&mdash;I cannot repent!"
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+Germanus of Auxerre and his colleague Lupus came to Caer Gwrtheyrn,
+aflame with zeal for God and for the Church. In his palace hall they
+upbraided King Gwrtheyrn, calling him the shame and scandal of all
+Britain. As for the royal culprit, he would not hear them patiently.
+Furious words were bandied between them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Things shall be as I will!" roared Gwrtheyrn. "Am I not lord in my
+own dominions? Presumptious shaveling! what thinkest thou I care for
+thy preachments?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O Gwrtheyrn, egregious sinner!" said Germanus. "Know that we have
+power behind us. Ambrosius, who is near at hand with his army, will
+soon be here, to punish or to break thee. Who will comfort thee with
+the rites of holy Church if we proclaim thee outcast? Fortunate art
+thou if thou escape so easily. Lupus and I will fast upon the Lord God
+until He grant our demands concerning thee. Ere many days, heaven will
+pour down fire upon thee, to shrivel up thee and thine and all thine
+ill-famed land!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This curse carried such terror to all standing by that even Mogneid
+durst not suggest that the King should order the seizure of the holy
+men, and they two passed out and went their way. Said Mogneid to
+Gwrtheyrn:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If Ambrosius come upon us, and Garmon and his monks from Llanharmon,
+we are undone, and they will surely do thee to death. I can think of
+only one resource. Thy Queen&mdash;has she not Saxon kindred about
+Pengwern, not forty miles away? I think she will be persuaded to send
+them messages. We will make allies of them; and should Ambrosius
+besiege this fortress, we can hold out within, until the Saxons come
+to deliver us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do what thou wilt," answered Gwrtheyrn. "Speak thou to my wife. By
+now she must have heard some story of my pretty dear."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Queen was not jealous; and very readily she dispatched a runic
+writing and another token to a kinsman of hers whom she knew to be
+commanding the Saxon outposts at Pengwern. These were entrusted to
+three huntsmen of the King's, who had by heart every path and by-track
+in the country. Gwrtheyrn and Mogneid made fast the defences, and
+provided arms for every man of the King's subjects near at hand who
+could be spared from gathering in the harvest in feverish haste.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But, on the morning of the next day, Eliseg brought dire tidings to
+Caer Gwrtheyrn. The monks of Cilfachau had taken all three messengers,
+and had carried them off to Germanus at Buallt. And the army of
+Ambrosius had been seen moving upon Gwrtheyrn's palace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We must to Llanaelhairn, in the valley that opens into Lleyn from the
+bay of Arvon," said Gwrtheyrn. "There it will be hard for them to
+follow us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My plans have failed," thought Mogneid. "I came hither too late.
+Cousin Gwrtheyrn cannot weather this storm."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a very little while, their preparations were made and they set out:
+the King and the Druid; the Queen upon a pillion behind Eliseg;
+Dyfnwal and all the men of the household, a few of the women whose
+homes were inaccessible, and every man of the royal hamlet who could
+be quickly armed and mounted&mdash;leaving Caer Gwrtheyrn to whatsoever
+might befall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For seven hours they rode to the north-west. After passing the
+confines of Gwrtheyrn's own lands, they kept to the course of the Wye,
+which river became narrower and more rapid with every frequent bend.
+They travelled slowly, for they were an unwieldy party. About sunset,
+an ominous smoky glare appeared in the sky in the region they had
+abandoned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They burn Caer Gwrtheyrn!" said the King; and he wept uncontrollably.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At nightfall they came to the outskirts of the waste about Plinlimmon.
+This was an uninhabited tract, part oak and elm thicket, part
+alder-shaded swamp. In the higher reaches, huge craggy hills arose
+like spectral scaly monsters gathering their strength for a spring.
+Beyond lay the open moorland where Wye has its rising, and where
+Severn is a tiny trickle, whose source is unknown to man. Owls hooted
+in this wooded valley, and there were strange flutterings, squeakings
+and snappings, and patterings over the ground. The King's men refused
+to go farther.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The dogs of hell are abroad, lord!" cried one. "Arawn's hounds&mdash;yes,
+yes! Once it is dark, they roam this desert place. There is fearful
+they are now. White they are, every one, with rose-red ears, and their
+jaws foam and drip. And the man who sees them&mdash;sure to be ailing from
+that very hour, and die before long, and that is a fact. Very, very
+unlucky! Let us stay where we are, now!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They wailed and besought so piteously that Gwrtheyrn had to permit a
+halt in spite of the friendly moonlight, and of Mogneid's whispered
+urgings. A long low cave was near at hand: into it they packed,
+shivering in the night-mist, for they durst not kindle a fire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They passed a restless night; only the Queen slept soundly in the cave
+on the borders of the haunted forest. Then on once more over the rocky
+track that led through Arwystli and Meirionedd to their goal, the
+peninsula of Lleyn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I dreamed of Garmon," said Gwrtheyrn, as they started. "His face
+glowed white, like hottest iron, kinsman Mogneid&mdash;I cannot forget it.
+He is fasting upon his God, to procure my destruction."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mogneid answered nothing, but gnawed his lip.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Llanaelhairn must we make upon the morrow," continued the King. "It
+is a little old fortress of my father's building, for to guard the
+valley beneath Yr Eifl from attack by sea: I myself have not set foot
+there for more than thirty years. The way thither is little known, and
+I wager Emrys will be finely entangled once or twice if he endeavour
+to follow us. But there are caretakers, and there should be flocks and
+herds for our regaling."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That night they spent in Arthog. A hospitable Goidelic lord
+overwhelmed them with attentions, giving them what food he had, and
+they passed the night in and about his dwelling. Across the estuary of
+the Mawddach, the forsaken druidic stones showed white and awful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By noon next day, they had reached the borders of Lleyn. By late
+afternoon, as they pursued their rough, scarcely distinguishable,
+interminable way, the Queen grew querulous. She could ride no longer;
+every muscle in her body ached; she must drink deeply from a tumbling
+spring that ran across their path, and bathe her face, hands, and
+feet; she was hungry, and here were bilberries. Surely they were safe
+from their enemies? And every one was sun-dried and speechless!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, she might rest a breathing-while: they might all stretch their
+limbs and eat and drink their fill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But come thou on with me, cousin," said Gwrtheyrn. "I cannot stay
+still. We will go ahead, and spy over the hills before us, and seek
+the readiest way." To the commander of the men-at-arms: "Look you,
+tarry not long, for sunset will soon be upon us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Said Eliseg to Dyfnwal, "They are gone together, the King and he. I
+like not the evil lowering of his face this day. We should follow
+them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At once!" said Dyfnwal. "The bay and the roan are the fleetest."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sky had clouded over, and there was a rainy light in the western
+quarter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look yonder!" cried Mogneid, when they had ridden some two miles
+farther.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A great army of horsemen was winding about the foot of the hills of
+Pennant, and at their head was something, broad and scarlet-gleaming,
+that flapped in the evening breeze&mdash;surely the dragon-standard of
+Ambrosius.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then the end is come," said Mogneid.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"On to Llanaelhairn!" Gwrtheyrn exclaimed. "Once there, we can get the
+cattle within, and hold the ford, belike, with my people that dwell
+there. Hasten, kinsman, hasten! The others have sure guides; they
+cannot miss the way."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they reached the ford of the little brook, now called by King
+Gwrtheyrn's name, that flowed beneath the walls of the fortress of
+Llanaelhairn, the moon was shining, and the clouds were fewer. They
+crossed the castle forecourt. Not a soul was about, for the land-maer
+and his family had gone to the upper pastures to bring in the sheep
+and cattle. As they opened the hall door, the stifling atmosphere beat
+heavily against their faces. A fierce fire was burning, upon which the
+women of the household had lately roasted whole the carcasses of
+several sheep. After glancing around, Mogneid sped up the stairway
+leading into the look-out tower, and Gwrtheyrn followed him into the
+small, low chamber at the top. He found Mogneid before its
+half-ruinous window, tugging at the rusty iron grating that screened
+the aperture.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Presently the mortar that had held it crumbled, the whole frame-work
+came away in Mogneid's hands, and he cast it violently upon the floor.
+Then he returned to the window. Above him the heights of the Rivals
+towered; away to the west, the sea-waves lapped sullenly; below, Nant
+Gwrtheyrn ran very low in its stony bed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What hope is there now?" cried Gwrtheyrn the King. "What hast thou
+done for me, Mogneid my kinsman, who promised so much? Garmon is a
+greater curser than thou&mdash;his magic mightier. The ancient gods have
+lied to thee, Mogneid&mdash;they delude thee&mdash;thou art not their favoured
+one! Wilt thou give me back my kingdoms, thou who hast all things of
+power at thy fingers' ends!" He rushed upon the other with a snarl
+like a wild beast's.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Mogneid son of Votecori turned upon him a look that scorched, and
+Gwrtheyrn cowered back against the wall, shaking from head to foot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou scum of dross! Thou refuse thing! Thou drunkard and son of
+drunkards! Aye, a high destiny hadst thou once&mdash;until thou gavest over
+thy will to sloth and rottenness! Talk ye of hope, my lord? Was
+Ambrosius ever known to spare? Well, there is one way&mdash;by this
+opening, see you?&mdash;it is fully wide enough: a man may lower himself;
+it is a swift ending. Concerning what will follow, these Christians
+lie. Perchance thou wilt become a silvery salmon, very wise, in Wye or
+Dyfi; or a wallowing hog; or Emperor of the West, perchance, or Pope
+of Rome. Jump, Gwrtheyrn, King of Gwrtheyrnion, Buallt, Erging, Ewyas,
+and Caer Glouwy, sometime Pendragon of all Britain, and flee shame!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shame&mdash;only that &hellip; I must flee shame!" muttered Gwrtheyrn, climbing
+into the window as though compelled by the fascination of Mogneid's
+eye. "I must&mdash;I will &hellip; I cannot&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He faltered on the edge, but the Druid, standing behind, pushed him,
+and his long body fell hurtling through the air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After peering for a moment at a certain motionless dark patch upon the
+stones below, Mogneid descended the staircase, in haste to make his
+escape.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Eliseg and Dyfnwal caught him in the doorway. They carried him, bound
+hand and foot, into the hall, and threw him upon the fire that still
+burned brightly. After a little while, they took him off the fire, and
+hacked off his head with a chopper that was used for jointing meat.
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<a name="II">&nbsp;</a>
+<p class="chapter">
+Dewi Sant
+</p>
+
+<p class="head">
+"<i>O holy David, our bishop, take away our sadness.</i>"
+</p>
+
+
+<p>
+David strode along the winding road: his feet were bare, his head was
+bare and tonsured, and one garment, of coarse felt, but snowy white,
+was his only bodily covering. The sun beat down upon him; the sky, of
+a deep, throbbing blue, held few clouds, and they silvery and
+sweetly-curved as the breast-feathers of a dove; on his left, the
+sea dazzled; before and about him, small columns of dust twirled
+mischievously. David's eyes, dark and bright, feasted untiringly upon
+the life and growth around him, and he sang as he went.
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Dancing is the sea, the winds are dancing also:</p>
+<p>Breath of angels hath the sun-warmed hay, the poppies are out in scarlet.</p>
+<p>Good thing it is for a man to strive in his lifetime.</p></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"A mighty chorus echoeth from the bed of ocean:</p>
+<p>There is also the poem of the flight of birds.</p>
+<p>Who would conquer sin, must learn praise and gratitude.</p></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Who hath set the thrift in the rocks that are smooth and barren?</p>
+<p>Who nourisheth the little sweet rose that maketh a garden of the sand-dunes?</p>
+<p>How can a man wander, when for him the Love of God is nailed on high?</p></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"The corn-ears are purple-ripe:</p>
+<p>Generous gifts bring the apple-boughs against the season of All Saints.</p>
+<p>Very good is song, that giveth cheerfulness."</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+He turned him about, and looked back upon the whitewashed walls of
+Mynyw, his darling among his many foundations. To the little company of
+religious who followed his steps, he cried:</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do think that of all the lands in all the world the fairest is our
+land of Cymru. And of all the parts of Cymru, look you, the fairest and
+the sweetest is this Dyfed."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Aidan, Teilo, Ismail, and some few more clustered round him. Said they
+all together:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed, indeed, blessed, holy father, blessed is our Dyfed!" and many
+were the looks of affection they cast upon their little abbot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have been in the Holy Country," said David. "That is the very marvel
+of the world&mdash;a jewel set in the desert; but hard and bright, dear me!
+there is unplayful it is! I can never give thanks enough, children,
+that I am permitted to dwell here where I was born."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So saying, he resumed his journey. They had left the monks' cultivated
+domain behind them, and were now in the shade of a broad lane between
+willows and hazels, where the mallows and the bellflowers grew rankly.
+Of a sudden, the lane came to an end, and they emerged upon the little
+promontory below Porth Mawr. Carn Llidi loomed above them, on their
+right hand, and at its foot rose Ty Gwyn, the deserted college of
+Patrick, with its grave-stones round about it. In the western distance,
+far away, appeared a green fairy land, with the hazy forms of mountains
+melting into the skyline.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us pray for our brethren of Ireland," said David, "of the Second
+Order of Saints."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About an hour later, David was still some few paces at the head of his
+people, and repeating to himself, hands folded, the prayers for the
+third hour after noon, when he felt his shoulder seized in a brawny
+grip, and he was forcibly twisted round until he faced a sturdy
+individual, with a broad, smiling red face, sandy hair, and twinkling
+green-grey eyes, and fully equipped with the war-sword, flowing robe,
+and shoes of dressed leather which only a nobleman might wear. Near him
+were his retinue of horsemen, one of whom held the steed from which his
+lord had just dismounted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"David, little cousin," was his greeting, "whither so fast, I pray
+thee, with thy chin to the ground? Have you mission to punish
+wrong-doers, O very powerful saint?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, kinsman Cadfan," David replied, "sweet is the sight of you to the
+eyes. It is seldom we meet now. But I am not abroad to deal with
+evildoers, look you. Dyfed, thanks be to God! is a very peaceful place;
+the religion of Christ reigns even in the farthest nooks. I have enough
+to do, kinsman, to order mine own house and the brethren and disciples
+over whom I rule. The bishops hold synod at Brefi, and I must be there
+with the rest; though little doing, say I, follows much talking."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hast indeed won all this land by thy words and wonders?" cried Cadfan,
+who, though he had great affection for David, could never, in his
+presence, master an uncontrollable desire to tease him. "Look that they
+deceive thee not, the pigs of Dyfed! and pay not double tithes to their
+Druids, and turn to them first at birth and at death! What did I hear
+of thee and of a monstrous old stone? Some tale spread by women&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dost thou doubt the power of God?" exclaimed David, with flashing
+eyes. Then, as he caught sight of his interlocutor's face, he could not
+help smiling. "Cadfan, they would not give up the old stone of
+Cetti&mdash;slew beast and fowl upon it, to obtain prosperity, or for
+blessing or cursing, and slept beneath its shade that dreams might
+visit them! Then, on a day, when a great crowd was there assembled, I
+prayed, and took a sword in my hand, and climbed upon the old
+abomination, to the very top; and I smote with my sword in the face of
+all the people, and lo! the stone split in twain with a hideous scream.
+Oh, joyful was my heart for that God had deigned to heed my
+supplication! And so was the unbelieving remnant drawn into the
+Church's fold."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well done, well done!" said his jovial kinsman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And the Gwyddel chieftains? Are they forbearing towards thee?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Boia is dead. Leschi came out of Ireland and slew him and all his in
+one night; and Leschi is for holy Church. But it was pity for Boia. He
+suffered us gladly, and I think would have hearkened to the word ere
+long. A brave soul! I say mass for him often, as Cattwg does for worthy
+Virgil. But the wicked shrew, his wife! she urged him with all her
+might against us; and when we would take no notice of her handmaidens
+whom she sent to bathe in the stream that runs before our very doors,
+one day she lured Dunawd her step-daughter to an ancient altar in a
+forsaken spot, and sacrificed her to the Siddi, her underground gods.
+First shore off the little one's hair,<a href="#note6" name="noteref6">
+<small>[6]</small></a> and then slit her throat! A
+sweet innocent child! who would come to our church door, to peep and to
+listen, and then flee shyly away. Alas! alas! a grievous happening!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And wilt thou spend all thy days in lonely Dyfed, little holy one? I
+did hear of thee at Afallach,<a href="#note7" name="noteref7">
+<small>[7]</small></a> where Joseph's thorn grows. Didst thou
+not bestow there some very rich treasure? Would that not be a kingly
+centre for thee to dwell in?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"At Afallach left I the sapphire altar which I brought from Caer Salem.
+Afallach will be great and famous, I doubt not; but, Mary be aiding! I
+will live and die yonder in Glyn Rhosyn, nursery of the dearest of my
+sons. Lonely we are, yes. We control no state policy, for Britain is
+the dominion of the Saxons; but Cymru shall render us thanks in days to
+come: we shall have great power of prayer."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O cousin, it is marvel to me that thou canst thus go barefoot in the
+dust, and hang rough texture of the taeogion<a href="#note8" name="noteref8">
+<small>[8]</small></a> about thee, and drink
+nought but tasteless water. I am but an ordinary man, and I would not
+forego my pleasures of everyday for any miracles which might be sung of
+down the ages. Well, well! each man to his own taste! I go to old Aunt
+Angharad, at Porth Mawr. The blessed woman! she has found me a dainty
+maid to wife, says she. Now speak me a blessing, David, and let me have
+your prayers."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our Lord God be aiding thee, kinsman Cadfan! May He preserve to thee
+thy good tenderness of heart!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And may He prosper thee, my David! Fare thee well, little kinsman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cadfan departed on his way, and David and his companions set their
+faces northwards. They were not a solitary party. The road swarmed with
+priests and monks, and was trodden also by many laymen and some few
+women whom devotion or curiosity drew to the synod of the bishops at
+Brefi in Ceredigion. As evening drew on, the abbot-bishop of Menevia
+led his tired followers up the slope of a wooded hill, where he knew
+were dry caverns to pass the night in, and a spring of water. When they
+neared their proposed resting-place, a tonsured figure ran out from
+under the trees, and stood in their path-way, waving his arms.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+David whistled to the mongrel greyhound that padded by his side. Then,
+suddenly, he hastened his steps, his face aglow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Padarn! Dear, dear me! My Padarn! Are ye many? Or may we spend this
+night with thee and thine in this God-given spot?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well met, well met, David!" cried Padarn, "And well met all, ye
+road-stained travellers! There is surely room for all." He hurried
+through the thicket to the clearing before the rocky bank which the
+aforesaid caves perforated, calling out: "Brethren! whom see ye here,
+whom see ye? Look you, this is David of Mynyw. Teilo, he, and I did
+journey together to the holy Jerusalem, one in soul, in joy, and in
+sorrow; and is it not a gladsome thing that he should be here amongst
+us this night?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An enthusiastic welcome ensued, and before long David, Teilo, Aidan,
+Ismail and the rest had been seated by the fire and supplied with food
+and drink. This was the Age of the Saints. Besides the newcomers there
+were some dozen holy men, whose names are living yet, sitting about
+upon the ground, each one bound for the great synod of the Cymric
+priesthood. In the mouth of the largest cave squatted an elderly man,
+sallow and wrinkled, with a beak-like nose and weary eyes; he had
+vellum, pen, and inkhorn, and wrote sedulously, giving himself no
+respite, with a heavy frown between his brows the while. David knew him
+for Gildas of Strathclyde, the apostle of Ruys in Lesser Britain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They yielded early to their fatigue, and lay down where they best
+might, most of them within the shelter of the caves. Gildas put aside
+his pen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They are all mightily drunken with the use and custom of sins!" he
+thundered. "If I reckoned without pause for ten years, the scandals
+concerning the high men of Britain would not be enumerated&mdash;and
+concerning also our monks and ordained priests (Have mercy, have mercy,
+on us miserable sinners!). Our princes are a host of devils&mdash;nay, worse
+than devils, for have they not received the sign and sacrament of
+baptism? Lust, and pillage, and oppression are such as were never
+before since the creation of the world. Stinking to heaven is
+Gomorrah&mdash;I should say Aberffraw! And there dwells the most heinous,
+the Satan of them all&mdash;and that is Maelgwn Gwenedd!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+David yawned, said a prayer for his kinsman Maelgwn, stretched himself,
+and fell asleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the first glimmer of dawn, they were awakened by the clanging of
+Gildas's bell. Their prayer said, David went to bathe in the brook near
+by. When he returned to the camp-fire, Gildas, his countenance sallower
+than usual, twisting and biting his lips, had just bent down to the
+simmering pot that hung over the flames, with a loaf of bread in his
+hand, when the mongrel grey-hound darted up to him, made an ecstatic
+leap, and snatching the loaf in his teeth, rushed away with it down the
+hill-side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+David's laugh pealed loud and clear. The holy Gildas turned furiously
+upon a little boy, one of his pupils, who stood beside him rubbing
+sleepy eyes, and abused him for not giving his master warning of what
+he must have seen was likely to occur. The bishop of Mynyw ran as fast
+as he could after the thief. Some distance below, in the valley, he
+caught his dog, beat and scolded him, and possessed himself of the
+bread. In the village at the hill's foot, he admired a cottager's
+leeks, and was given a handful. He then re-ascended the hill.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The sour-faced hawk!" thought he. "I am glad, very glad, he did not
+obtain the rule of Mynwy when he tried to supersede me, long ago!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gildas confronted him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ill is thy laughter, Dewi mab Sandde!" he spluttered hoarsely. "For a
+holy man of God&mdash;such conduct is light&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou hast the black bile, brother," said David. "Laughter is surely
+given us for good&mdash;so are we different from the brute beasts. We must
+practise austerities for all needful purposes; but I counsel thee that
+thou endeavour to find joy in all things gay and innocent, and in thine
+own mishaps, that prove thee human, most of all: so shall such
+dust-specks not make the sunshine less sweet to thee!" In softer tones,
+"Lift up thy heart, brother; in a very little while, we shall break our
+fast. I and my companions will find food enough for us all and to
+spare."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gildas, raging inarticulately, rushed into the cave where he had spent
+the night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+David turned to the contrite boy, whose cheeks showed traces of tears.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hast thou seen our Lady's Candle,<a href="#note9" name="noteref9">
+<small>[9]</small></a> over yonder by the quarry-side?"
+said he. "Such altar-light saw I never made by the hand of man. Seek
+thou it out, for a lovely sight."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Father David," answered the child, "how may that be? Do they not tell
+us that we must not gratify our senses, for that this world teems with
+sin most foul?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is old nonsense!" cried David. "Has not the Lord made all the
+earth, and is not His Word indwelling? And, son, remember this&mdash;come
+storm, come drought, come frost, nothing can take our God from us."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it true, O my father," asked the boy, wide-eyed, "that once on a
+time your own cook did try to poison you?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The poor mad fellow!" said the bishop shortly. "Luckily one of my
+guests suspected, and so were we one and all saved alive. Go thou draw
+water, little one, where the brook is deepest: I have need of more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+David stirred the broth in the pot, adding his leeks and some sage and
+pepper which he carried about him. The monks had gone their several
+ways, in search of wild fruits and pot-herbs. From within the biggest
+cave came the sound of restless fidgeting. David began to sing:
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Hast thou heard the saying of Calwaladr,</p>
+<p>King of all Britain?</p>
+<p>The best crooked thing is the crooked handle of a plough."</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+There was a hasty footfall behind and Gildas stood beside him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thy pardon, David," he said, very humbly, hanging his head. "Indeed,
+indeed, I know not why&mdash;but I have always a dark humour before
+breakfast!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Gildas, Gildas," cried David, as he wrung both the other's hands.
+"I am too hot-mettled, I fear, in the early hours!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they were within an hour's walk of the town of Brefi, David left
+them and disappeared into the woods.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There will be enough to talk and enough to listen," said he to Aidan.
+"I feel a great need to pray."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rest of the party proceeded without him. Now upon and around the
+hill of Brefi vast numbers of people were assembled. Certain questions
+disquieted the land of Cymru. Some hundred and fifty years before,
+Morgan the Briton, who is also called Pelagius, being at Rome, where he
+lived ascetically and reasoned unceasingly, hatched from his brain a
+subtle heresy. Adam's sin was his alone, and brought no curse upon his
+children; the will of a man to do good was enough to secure him from
+sin; Christ died only that His example might prompt and incite the
+well-disposed to greater efforts, and that those baptized in His Name
+might enter after death into a heaven superior to that of unbelievers.
+Now, of all the races of the earth, the race which set most store by
+the sayings of Morgan was his own nation of the Briton, who love
+discussion before all things, and especially discussion of the
+properties of the soul. Even so late as this, the Pelagians in Britain
+were many, and tampered with the faith of many, exhorting their
+fellow-Christians to forego the aid of the sacraments, as tending to
+superstitious bondage. And that some even of the clergy led gross and
+scandalous lives, we have Saint Gildas to witness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The day of the synod was hot to oppression. From early morning until
+past noon, one after another, bishop and priest addressed the
+gathering. There was as much embroidered rhetoric, impassioned
+argument, and brilliant, aimless quotation as always abound wherever
+the Cymry are met together; but to no one came the trenchant words that
+would sever the knots of their problems. As for the greatest among
+them, Dyfrig, and Deiniol, and Gildas, they seemed tongue-tied by the
+heavy weather, and hopelessly dreary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then said Dyfrig the aged saint:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"One who was made bishop by the Patriarch of Caer Salem is not present
+amongst us, a man who is eloquent, full of grace, and approved in
+religion, who has spread the Gospel far and wide in the desert regions
+of Britain, and has thoroughly purged the pagan land of Dyfed: David
+the son of Sandde, of Mynyw in Pebidiog. Let us send for him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gildas, Dyfrig, and Deiniol, and the young Aidan, sought and found
+David, and to Brefi hill they led him. Now the sides of the hill were
+white as a flowering orchard with the bleached garments of the priests
+and bishops who crowded thereon, and for a mile or more on every hand
+stretched the great throng of the people. When David came among them,
+the holy men made a pile of their cloaks, satchels, and books that he
+might mount upon it, for he was a short man (they say three cubits in
+height). So he stood up before them in all his greatness, and he seemed
+to tower high above them all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke to them in his voice of silver; he smote at error with strong
+strokes, which called forth both tears and laughter; he pleaded sweetly
+with the recalcitrant; his arguments were sound, his metaphors lively
+and concise. How can it be supposed, said he, that the nature of man
+can of itself engender righteousness to salvation? He told of his own
+laborious days: of his long discipleship with Illtyd; his missionary
+journeys throughout the west of Britain; his struggle, scarcely ended,
+with hostile princes and heedless people in his native province; his
+temptations, contests, watchings, and privations; his experiences as a
+ruler of religious and a trainer of youth. "If a man glorify his will,
+there follows pride; and pride drops dead in the presence of God mocked
+and crucified!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he talked of discipline, of the need of it in human life, and of
+how it must be loving and carefully contrived, that the heart of the
+delinquent be not hardened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Of those who listened, not one moved from his place until the end of
+David's discourse, and scarcely one stirred hand or foot. And some
+there were who saw a spirit near the saint, like to a dove, with
+gleaming bill, who sometimes perched upon his shoulder and whispered in
+his ear. And to many in that assembly his words brought comfort entire
+and ease from mental strife, and left in their hearts a pathway of
+peace and light.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They acclaimed him with rapturous tongues; far and wide they noised it
+that David of Mynyw was the treasure of the Cymry, the prince of all
+the saints of Britain. Gildas muttered congratulations, and hurried
+away to his interminable writing. His heart was not free from envy for
+a little while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As David was leaving the synod, he heard the sound of heartbroken sobs
+from a little gathering upon the banks of the Teify. It was a poor
+woman lamenting by the body of her son.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dewi, Dewi!" she cried, "have pity upon my affliction! He was my only
+little weakly child, and I have striven so sorely to rear him! God
+cannot reave him from me. Entreat Him for me, Dewi Sant!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The tears rose to David's eyes as these sorrowful words were uttered;
+he knelt down by the body, and began to rub the hands and the feet, and
+to pray aloud in this wise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O Lord, my God, who didst descend to this world from the bosom of the
+Father for us sinners, that Thou mightest redeem us from the jaws of
+the old enemy, have pity on this widow, and give life to her only son,
+that Thy Name may be magnified in all the earth!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He felt the limbs growing gradually warmer beneath his touch, and he
+continued to pray, and to call upon the boy in tender, soothing tones.
+By and by the eyelids flickered; then the boy opened his eyes, raised
+himself for the space of a second, and looked full into the eyes of
+David. They gave him wine, and life was secured to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they had escaped from the grateful outpourings of the mother,
+David said to Teilo:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Brother, an awful thing is death! For after death, we come no more;
+and judgment follows. It has been given to me once or twice to behold
+the Angel drawing near to those who themselves were unaware; and power
+has even then come upon me that I might put them in mind of their
+latter end. I pray often, Teilo, that neither thou, nor I, nor any of
+the brethren, nor any of all my beloved people, may be cut off without
+timely warning."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Wherefore, say the ancients, is the Corpse Candle foretelling
+dissolution oftenest seen in the diocese of Mynyw.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next day, before they had travelled many miles, earth and sky took
+on a mysterious aspect. A heavy blight hung in the air; and a strange,
+watery column, with its head in the clouds, trailed over the earth,
+discharging raindrops which were hot to the touch and yet struck chill.
+A few men and women fell sick by the roadside; their bodies shrivelled
+and turned yellow, and in a few hours they died. David remained among
+the sufferers, nursing and consoling. The Yellow Plague hourly
+increased its ravages. Some recounted that the advance of the pest
+could be seen in the form of a female spirit&mdash;a frightful hag,
+hairless, with flavescent features and long pointed teeth, who clutched
+at her prey. Ere many days, the land was choked with unburied corpses.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Maelgwn the King is dead!" they told David.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then is Gildas content!" said he. "Hasten we to Mynyw."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In Dyfed, for all his loving zeal, he could not dwell long, because of
+the Plague which followed him there. So David and all his surviving
+brethren and all the inhabitants of Pebidiog whom he could gather
+together set sail for Lesser Britain. There he laboured greatly for
+five years and more at Leon, Saint Ivy, and Loquivy, preaching the word
+of God and founding churches and houses of religion.
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+In the last year but one of the fifth century after Christ, when David
+was a very old man, Cynyr son of Cyngen, a scholar in Teilo's C&ocirc;r upon
+the Taff, being unable to bear the stern rule of Teilo, fled from the
+college and wandered until he came upon Llywel the hermit of Selyf in
+Brycheiniog, who entertained him and kept him under his protection. And
+a little after Llywel died, and Cynyr dwelt still in the former cell of
+Llywel. That year was cold and frosty, and the fruits of the earth were
+nipped in the ear and in the bud. At the autumn equinox great storms of
+wind and rain arose, followed early by snow, and the flocks of the men
+of Brycheiniog were lost and starved for the most part. As soon as the
+thaw set in at the beginning of the next year, Llyr Merini, lord of
+Talgarth, laid claim to a cantref in the lordship of Rhaint son of
+Brychan, his wife's brother, as belonging to his own tribe, and
+publicly reproached King Rhaint with being the cause of the late
+disastrous weather through his harbourage of an apostate religious. The
+men of Llyr fell upon the lands of Rhaint, seized his men, broke their
+ploughs, and carried off the little grain they had ready to sow. Some
+of the seed-corn with which they could not escape they cast into the
+stony bed of the brook Cilieni. Rhaint and his people proceeded to
+fitting reprisals. And so things continued until the spring had come
+indeed. It was then that David of Mynyw, as he journeyed through
+Brycheiniog, declared his will to judge between the warring princes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the morning of the first of May, a white-robed monk, with horny
+hands, and a tanned face whose pointed nose and patient brown eyes made
+it resemble the face of a dog, stood in the dingle through which the
+Clydach flows. Upon a gradually-sloping bank, where primroses and small
+blue violets bloomed in the damp and mossy grass, he had just spread
+three sheep-skins, and was regarding their position with doubtful look.
+He appeared oblivious of two other persons who occupied the little glen
+at the same moment, though these were no less than Llyr Merini, lord of
+Talgarth, and his wife Gwen, daughter of King Brychan. At a seemly
+distance were their household attendants.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O Lily, servant of David," said Llyr, "I have heard that he thy master
+holds the keys that do lock and unlock the portals of heaven!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Very righteous saint is David," replied Lily. He did no more than
+glance at the lord and lady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Surely he does consider that the perjury of one tonsured to God is of
+all things the most abominable?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"David has a key to all of heaven that is in the world," David's
+servant continued. "Where he scattereth, there does the good corn
+spring. When the Yellow Plague had run its course, and we returned from
+Llydaw, a crushing labour was before him, for men were lax and weary,
+and religion wellnigh forgotten. But this task he fulfilled, for the
+blessing of God was upon him, and he and his disciples journeyed far
+afield, hither to Brycheiniog, and into Gwent, Ewyas, and Erging, and
+sowed the seed of the Gospel in plenty. Every holy thing does David
+foster and honour. And he reads plainly the hearts of men, and traces
+the springs of their actions. A fountain of justice is the heart of
+David."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Many fair churches owns David. Loves he not gifts of gold, and silver,
+and polished jewels," said Gwen eagerly, "for the adornment of his
+foundations? They say that the praise of beauty is ever upon his lips."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This will not do for my master!" cried Lily, snatching one of the
+fleeces from the ground. "How can he, whose years are ninety and more,
+huddle upon the moss like a lithe-limbed stripling? He must have a seat
+conformable to his dignity, myn Duw!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"See, see!" Gwen cried. "A heap of logs for the great May fire! We will
+fetch one of them, husband, for the use of the powerful saint."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They carried a log between them to the foot of the bank. Lily approved
+it, after scrutiny, and spread one of his cherished sheepskins upon it.
+Then David came slowly into the glen towards them, leaning upon the arm
+of King Rhaint of the Red Eyes. With a quick gesture of greeting to all
+there assembled, he seated himself in the tribunal prepared for him. He
+seemed smaller than ever now, for his form was bowed and his skin was
+abundantly wrinkled, and all his life and energy centred in his
+gleaming dark-hazel eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Teilo, abbot-bishop of Llandaff, and Ismael, one of David's own
+bishops, were with him, and some of their attendant monks; and the
+courtiers and fighting-men of Rhaint followed. A few of the villagers
+had made their way to the place of meeting.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Speak you now your causes, my children," said David, in his clarion
+tones, which the years had scarcely weakened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This one has attacked my lands," cried Rhaint, "and has broken the
+ploughs of my men, and destroyed their valuable corn-seed!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This one," cried Llyr, "keeps from me a cantref which was my father's
+and the father of my father's; and Brycheiniog brings forth no
+sustenance, for Rhaint mab Brychan protects the renegade Cynyr!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two armed men, shouting and threatening, dragged a youth in monastic
+garb, tonsured, his countenance pallid and his eyes dim with watching
+and fasting, to the feet of the bishops.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is Cynyr, between my men," said Rhaint. "Examine him, father,
+upon his matter."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O stinging viper!" exclaimed Teilo. "Obedience didst thou vow to me in
+my college upon the Taff! And thou didst manifest such notable
+dispositions in the early days of thy pupilage!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May the penalty be heavy and bitter, we pray you, holy bishops," said
+Gwen, "that the curse be lifted from us. Always very ill fortune dogs
+the breach of a vow!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lady, I would have silence about me," said David, "that I may pray Our
+Lord for grace to discern rightly between Teilo my son and my brother
+and Llywel who is in Paradise." &hellip; After a brief pause: "What pleadest
+thou, Cynyr? By whose permission hast thou betaken thyself to the life
+of a solitary? Wilt thou confess thy sins, and return to the faithful
+congregation?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dewi mab Sandde, with you will I go," the young man replied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"With me? but not with Teilo? Speak out thy mind, and fear not."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not with Teilo. His rule is too harsh: I cannot bow myself to such
+authority."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou must go with my brother Teilo, being his pupil and servant."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will abide here in Llywel's cell, and gather about me my own C&ocirc;r,
+and rule it. Or I will live beneath the ordinance of David. Let him<a href="#note10" name="noteref10">
+<small>[10]</small></a>
+not cast me away; for of all saints he is the most efficacious! I would
+be a holy man, even as he is. But, look you, the legions of Satan do
+compass me about, and make hideous my nights and my days. There is also
+an evil, fair woman, Indeg daughter of Maenarch, who plagues me
+whenever I do meet with her; and her spirit is with me continually, to
+trouble me, when she herself is absent! Pray for me, for the love of
+the Lord!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O Cynyr," said David meditatively, "hast thou the gift of obedience, I
+wonder?&hellip; Thou hast taken thy final vows before the Holy Sacrament?"
+he added suddenly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cynyr hung his head, and grew even paler than he had been before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, no. My consecration should have been at the Paschal Feast of last
+year. I fled Llandaff the week before. This I told to blessed Llywel
+before he took me in."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, Teilo," said the bishop of Mynyw, "I had heard that this Cynyr
+had deserted the furrow that he had undertaken to plough. Where is the
+truth in this?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My overseer of the disciples did speak of his consecration," was the
+other bishop's answer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou hast said that his vows were taken?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I did think that they were," said Teilo.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Llandaff has done the youth great wrong!" cried David.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A dull red crept into the face of Teilo, but he did not utter a word.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come you here, Llyr and Rhaint," David said sternly. "This is my
+judgment, princes, upon you. It is written that cursed is he who
+oppresses the poor and helpless. Ye have brought contention and
+bloodshed to pass. Your people are slain, or wounded, or they pine in
+captivity; those that remain unhurt and free are starving, their fields
+being waste; and great is your guilt, for their livelihood is given
+into your charge! Ye have just heard the conclusion of your affair.
+Cynyr son of Cyngen is no vowed monk; how can heaven have sent a blight
+upon your lands for his sake? Greed it was that made Llyr to plunder
+the Lordships of Rhaint. And Rhaint has hated his brother, though I say
+not that his hatred had no cause. Ye two shall swear to be friends, and
+to keep peace, and maintain good government. And half of Selyf shall be
+thine, O Rhaint, for Brychan thy father did win it in fair fight; and
+half shall be Llyr's, for thy sister is his wife, and he is thy
+brother. So shall the lords of Gwent not spoil Brycheiniog when its
+chief men are divided."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The princes exclaimed together:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wondrous his judgment! There is content we are!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gwen daughter of Brychan, wilt thou swear to this also?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, yes!" the Lady Gwen replied. "No love of warfare have I!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In the name of God, ye do promise to hold to peace and fellowship?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In the name of God, we do promise to hold to peace and fellowship one
+with another!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Prosperity be upon you, and upon your children and your children's
+children, and upon all that is yours and theirs, while ye do observe
+this solemn compact!" said David then. "And if so be ye scorn and break
+it, may lightning and storm devastate your territories, may sickness
+and famine stalk throughout them, and may rottenness take hold upon
+your bodies! Amen, amen!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Rhaint and Llyr held each other's hands and shook them up and down;
+they almost danced upon the springy sod in the exhilaration that their
+reactive emotion had quickened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am old donkey, Llyr!" shouted Rhaint. "I forgive thee thy ravages.
+My people will have no bread this year; but doubtless thou wilt
+provide?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Donkey and cuckoo am I!" roared Llyr. "I will feed thy people. We will
+make a great feast to-night, and forget our differences."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And they two and Gwen sat down upon the bank, and laughed and gossipped
+together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cynyr flung himself at David's feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Forsake me not!" he wailed. "I am as firmly resolved as ever to lead
+the life of a saint. Let the little holy one of Mynyw be aiding to me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The abstraction of age was upon David; he sat gazing at and through the
+kneeling youth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Lily approached him, carrying something square wrapped in a cloth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What wouldst thou say, my servant?" the bishop murmured. "Well, well,
+indeed, what hast thou there?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father's official," answered Lily. He removed the cloth, and
+disclosed a book, with cover worn and water-stained, and laid it upon
+his master's knees.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+David turned the pages, caressing them with his numb old fingers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Once I was harsh with a boy,"<a href="#note11" name="noteref11">
+<small>[11]</small></a> said he. "And my harshness was
+because of this blemished volume. I thank thee, Lily, for bringing that
+sin of anger to my mind. The child, whom I had permitted to read my
+office-book, left it out of doors upon a rainy day. For penance I sent
+him to lie at full length upon the sand of the shore at Porth Mawr; and
+in the press of business I forgot for many hours where I had bidden him
+bide. When at last I ran to find him, the waves were licking his body,
+and half-drowned was he&hellip;. My son," the saint continued, addressing
+Cynyr, "hast thou not told me that the direst of thy assailant demons
+is a living woman, and no bloodless spirit?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeg daughter of Maenarch pesters and torments me, so that the
+thought of her is an ever-present temptation. Great hate and scorn has
+she for me, and her strength she spends in striving for my downfall.
+She does come bringing bannuts,<a href="#note12" name="noteref12">
+<small>[12]</small></a> for she knows I love to eat them!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My father," Lily interposed, "they say that the girl is here."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, indeed, now," said David, "let her come forth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Several women pushed a maiden into the middle of the ring formed by the
+assembly. She seemed to have been weeping, for her eyelids were
+flushed; she shook her dark hair over her face, and clutched her hands
+together and plucked at a ring she wore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Daughter," said David, "why do you torment and pester Cynyr son of
+Cyngen, a hermit seeking God?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her lips moved. Some thought she whispered hoarsely:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do not!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dost thou hate Cynyr?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I hate him in my heart!" cried she.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will hang him from yonder ash-tree," said David with a mocking
+twinkle, "to-morrow at dawn."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, no!" she shrieked. "Mercy, mercy! Holy David, there is cruel he
+is! Spare him&mdash;spare Cynyr&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Peace, woman!" David's face had become a mask of fury, but his voice
+was mellifluous. "Nothing will thy tongue avail thee. Thou hast wrought
+devilish magic, and surely we shall slay thee as a witch!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Myn Duw!" shouted Cynyr the novice, tossing his arms on high. "Do not
+so! I was mistaken&mdash;there is mad I have been. David has cleared the
+covering from my eyes! I love Indeg&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And thou, Indeg," said David softly, "dost thou love Cynyr?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Said she, more softly still:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I like him &hellip; as well as I like any man."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Our Lord God lays hold upon His own," cried David, "and, Teilo, there
+is no need to grab souls for him. Rhaint mab Brychan, wilt thou adopt
+this Cynyr into thy tribe, when he shall have sojourned with thee the
+accustomed number of years? He will make a brave fighting-man, though
+not in the picked army of heaven."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, indeed!" replied Rhaint the King. "I am David's servant, to do
+his bidding."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, upon blessed Llywel's land, where he lived and died," the saint
+continued, "we will set a new church, and Llywel, Teilo, and I, we
+three, will own it in perpetuity. And of the three thou, Teilo, shalt
+have the pre-eminence. Willingly wilt thou fast forty days upon this
+spot, for our church's hallowing. A small omission troubles thy
+conscience, I know. Children," turning from the Abbot of Llandaff to
+the man and woman before him, "I would see all well with you before I
+depart. Give me thy ring, Indeg."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She put her ring in the palm of David.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is not yet the noon-hour," said he. "Lily, where is my altar, and
+the other things I now require?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is your altar, my father," was Lily's reply, "and the sacred
+elements, look you!&mdash;ready for the swearing of oaths."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He brought David's portable altar and placed it before him, and set
+bread and wine upon it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+David rose to his feet, and, supported by Teilo and Ismael, said mass
+as it was celebrated for a marriage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Cynyr," said he in the British tongue, "wilt thou have Indeg as thy
+wife?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yes, yes!" Cynyr answered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And, Indeg, wilt thou have Cynyr as thy husband?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She nodded her head several times.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then I declare before all these, men and women of the Plant y Cymry,
+that ye be man and wife together. And, Cynyr, thou shalt love Indeg as
+long as her life shall last; and thou, Indeg, shalt love Cynyr and obey
+him. The blessing of God is upon you; and ye shall go with my blessing,
+and with the blessing of Teilo."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hand in hand the lovers wandered away over the young, green grass.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sixty days and no less will I fast before I consecrate Llywel's
+church," cried Teilo, his native generosity breaking forth, "and those
+two shall have my prayers at each day's offering!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gwhir, Teilo's bard at Llandaff, unslung his harp from his shoulder,
+and struck a triumphant prelude from the strings. He began to chant the
+praises of his master:
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Thrice a hundred servants of Christ does Teilo feed in his Bangor.</p>
+<p>The fierce old dragon he drove to the seas&mdash;potent is our father.</p>
+<p>Miracles are all about the little ones of Teilo.</p></div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"With Brynach aforetime did angels company in the wilderness about Nant Nimer.</p>
+<p>No harvest had Llandaff but flower of the broom, the gold-finch of the meadows.</p>
+<p>Surely white messengers were at hand for the succour of the C&ocirc;r of Teilo!"</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+David listened at first with a slight frown, but by the end of the
+second triad his countenance had softened.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Truth governs the tongue of Gwhir," said he. "Hearken! there is also
+music over yonder. Give me thy arm, my Ismael&mdash;I would hear the
+children sing."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They left the dingle, David and his followers, and ascended a gentle
+slope that led to an open stretch of level, sheep-cropped sward. Here
+stunted cowslips grew, and daisies, and a few stray tufts of thyme
+greeted the footsteps of each comer with their tonic perfume. Young men
+and girls, partnered in couples, were dancing about a blossoming
+hawthorn. At their shoulders and wrists, their knees or their ankles,
+coloured ribbons fluttered; and as they sprang, with outstretched arms,
+to touch the tree-trunk they hissed between tongue and palate. A man
+played shrilly upon a pipe, and a number of elderly women, seated upon
+the ground, were singing:
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Arianrod's battlements light the pathless waste of the sky.</p>
+<p>Oak for power, and ash for aid, and birch for constancy!</p>
+<p>Bird calls to bird that gone is winter, the time of hunger and fear.</p>
+<p>Bless the thorntree, maidens and boys, and bless the spring of the year!"</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+David watched them indulgently, for the days of the Druids were far
+off. When their dance was over, they rushed in a body to his feet,
+begging his blessing, and crying out compliments, sincere though
+extravagant, upon his sanctity and his fame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dewi Sant! Dewi Sant! Father of the Saints of Britain! May he live
+amongst us for ever!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"As God wills," said he, as he turned to leave them. "Beautiful the May
+tree&mdash;more beautiful the groves of Paradise. There is a hard task, my
+brothers, for Ismael."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His companions remembered well what he had spoken of Ismael in two
+months less than a year from that hour.<a href="#note13" name="noteref13">
+<small>[13]</small></a>
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One February day in the year Six Hundred and One, many folk, rich and
+poor, flocked to the walls of Ty Ddewi, David's monastic enclosure. A
+rumour had gone abroad that the saint had had heavenly premonition that
+his end was near at hand. So, weeping and lamenting, these men and
+women came from the regions around, crying upon their bishop to take
+their sadness from them. Within Ty Ddewi there was a wonderful silence
+and peace; and in the streets of Mynyw were heard the flutterings of
+invisible wings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look you, this mourning must cease, now!" said blessed David.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Well, well, true is what ye have heard. Merry tidings have reached me!
+In a little while from now, on the first day of March, I must go hence
+to the place where is life without end, rest without labour, and joy
+without sorrow&mdash;where is health and no pain, youth and no old age,
+peace and no contention, music and no discord. I charge you pray
+always, in all your undertakings, spiritual and bodily; and be good,
+little people, for the best usage is goodness."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His last words on earth were just as simple:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Take me with Thee!"
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<a name="III">&nbsp;</a>
+<p class="chapter">
+Star of Mercia
+</p>
+
+<div class="head">
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"<i>Hic regina detestatur</i></p>
+<p><i>Amplexus illicitos;</i></p>
+<p><i>Spreta mortem machinatur</i></p>
+<p><i>Ob amores vetitos.</i>"</p></div></div></div>
+
+
+<p>
+"Nay, Ethelfrith, bide thou here in quiet!" said Cynerith. "Tush, girl!
+art no child now, at sixteen years old! Why, thou hast witnessed the
+death of many a fledgling rook. The sun must not stain thy cheeks this
+day, and that thou knowest! The young man cannot now be afar off, God
+help! Nay, good lack! I will not have such pouting! It is my behest
+that thou stay at home."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In reality, the Lady Ethelfrith could scarcely be said to pout; and she
+knew her mother too well to venture a protest. The party set
+forth&mdash;Offa the King, the imperious Cynerith his Queen, their son the
+Atheling, and Eadburh their handsome elder daughter, wife of Beorhtric,
+King of Wessex, and now on a visit to her parents' court&mdash;and the young
+Ethelfrith, debarred from the sport, climbed to the upper room which
+was her own sleeping-chamber, and looked out over the shire of
+Hereford.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+If she leant out and turned sideways, her window commanded a view of
+the highway that ran by the gates of King Offa's palace of Sutton. She
+peered idly in that direction, without emotion of any sort&mdash;even anger,
+or curiosity. Below her lay the orchard-close, bright green under foot,
+and rosy overhead with the vernal glory of the apple-trees. It was the
+fairest day of the fair month of May; but its beauty awoke in
+Ethelfrith a dull, continuous pain. She was seldom happy, poor little
+princess: she thought much, but there was no one to whom she could tell
+her ideas, or who would give her sympathy. The King was always
+occupied; her brother was as spare of speech as herself; her mother was
+the Queen and unapproachable, except when she jested coarsely; and she
+feared her sister, the Queen of Wessex. There were many puzzling things
+in her everyday world which had only just begun to claim her attention.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was a very fairy-like being, so small and slim and fragile; her
+complexion was as delicate as the apple-blossom; she had soft eyes,
+grey as the plumage of a dove and a soft mouth with an obstinate curve;
+her hair was of the purest, palest gold, just saved from being flaxen
+and colourless. A strange child, surely, for those two robust persons,
+Offa and Cynerith. Just now she was wondering why they had not told her
+before yesterday of Ethelbert of East Anglia, his coming and its
+purpose. Every one about the palace had known of it but herself. She
+had overheard what had been whispered to a servant of her sister's from
+Wessex, in the orchard, upon the foregoing afternoon, by one of her
+father's henchmen, whose eyes had shed a marvellously tender light
+while he gazed upon her, King Offa's daughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She is the star and flower of all Mercia," this henchman had said,
+"and she is to wed Lord Ethelbert, the star of the Eastern Angles."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Although she had remarked it, the expression of the speaker's
+countenance had in no wise stirred her sensibilities; she had been a
+little ruffled in temper, perhaps&mdash;no more. For Ethelfrith had no
+affinities with the courtiers; the overfed, voluptuous women and their
+satellites filled her with a cold disgust. The nuns of Marden, she
+thought, led peaceful lives, and bore in their faces a truly joyous
+light. Yet she had no longing for the seclusion of a religious house.
+She would sometimes, however&mdash;though very rarely&mdash;go to visit the
+sisters and spend a day in their company. The reverend mother was a
+motherly woman indeed; she was very gentle with the princess, and
+careful to refrain in her presence from any allusion to her life or her
+kinsfolk that might dash her girlish, half-childish dreams. When the
+maiden returned to her ordinary surroundings, how the glare and the
+chatter tired her head and oppressed her whole dainty frame! So it came
+about that the Lady Ethelfrith was little accounted by the great folk
+of Mercia: she was always silent, usually prim, and sometimes brusque;
+and to some she seemed a cross, spoilt child, and to others, witless.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then there had been her mother's half-teasing words of the evening
+before; that was really all she knew! At the thought of King Ethelbert,
+a sharper pain than the ache of loneliness amid natural beauties struck
+through her heart. She remembered the Queen's parting injunctions. Her
+childhood was surely at an end. This Ethelbert would be coming by the
+highway to the halls of Sutton before long.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Impatiently she turned away from the dusty road. Her eyes lighted upon
+the flowering gorse-bushes that blazed upon the outskirts of an upland
+covert in the distance. There ran through her head a riddle of her
+nursery days, couched in the rhyming metre which the Mercians had begun
+to imitate from the neighbouring Welsh.
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i12">"Yellow and green,</p>
+<p class="i12">Sharp and keen,</p>
+<p class="i12">Grows in the mene.</p>
+<p>The King can't ride it, no more can the Queen."</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+Song after song, carol after carol, lay after lay, came tripping
+after&mdash;some of God and the saints and ghostly blessedness; some of love
+and mirth; others of woe. A smile hovered about the lips of Ethelfrith.
+She loved songs&mdash;they were often her only solace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She would walk in the garden&mdash;no, she would not. The sun was too
+hot&mdash;the wind was too cold. She had just decided to wile away the time
+by strumming upon her cither, when she descried figures approaching
+along the road. They were horsemen, many horsemen; a mighty train. And
+there, unmistakably, was the banner of some great one. It was not a
+lord of Mercia, nor a lord of Wessex! Ethelfrith rushed from her room,
+down the stairs, and headlong into the orchard-close, in a fit of wild
+shyness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was her waiting-maid, and there were several aged ladies who
+cared not to look on at the shooting of the rooks. All confused, she
+stammered to them of her surmise&mdash;how that the King of East Anglia was
+even at their gates. What should they do, with her parents away?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, lady, there is no need for fear," said one kind-hearted matron.
+Even as she spoke a servant appeared in the orchard doorway, ushering
+with every token of respect a company of nobly-attired, travel-stained
+men. In another moment the little group beneath the trees had become
+aware of the leader of the party&mdash;a young man, very lithe, very
+muscular, with an energetic open countenance, and the bluest, brightest
+eyes that Ethelfrith had ever seen. Their glance wandered from one to
+another of the women, and came to rest upon King Offa's youngest
+daughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It seemed to her that the universe whirled around her: she had to
+strain at her insteps in order to keep herself upright. Then she heard
+him saying:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O lady, forgive me that I know not whom I should greet! Do I speak to
+the high and mighty lady, the Lady Ethelfrith of Mercia?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She curtsied, and hung her head; she was pallid now, who had been
+crimson the instant before; her tongue refused to utter audible sound.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am Ethelbert of East Anglia," continued the stranger. "Here am I at
+King Offa's bidding. They have told you of my coming?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed, I am Ethelfrith," said she. "I do greatly grieve&mdash;my father
+and mother&hellip;. Oh, my lord, will ye not be seated? I had forgotten&hellip;.
+Ye will deem me unmannerly&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, lady, surely nay," said Ethelbert earnestly; and he seated
+himself beside her upon a bench built round the trunk of an ancient
+apple-tree. He had begun to address her once more in his kindly tones,
+when a bustling noise reached them from within the palace, and in
+another moment the whole court was about them. Offa, the welcoming
+host, Cynerith, with her ready, witty talk. And Eadburh, whose person
+and taste in adornment made her give the effect of a full-blown poppy.
+Ethelfrith felt faded and nerveless beside her. She shrank into the
+background.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"In a good hour!" cried Offa. "Ye have spoken with my little daughter,
+I see: no need to make you known one to another. I trow ye are weary
+from your wayfaring. Come with me, and ye shall bathe you, and have
+meat and drink. And then, Ethelbert Etheldred's son, I will show you my
+horses, my hounds, and my hawks, and ye shall say whether ye have other
+such in East Anglia."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And they all departed into the house, leaving the princess alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She, pondering dazedly, thought that a thunderstorm had broken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the sun was shining as it had shone all day: the little stream
+which bounded the orchard from the meadows beyond was as blue as the
+sky whose colour it borrowed. The earth beneath her feet seemed to pant
+forth the scent, sweet and languorous, of white wild violets. A cuckoo
+shouted insistently. The air was vibrant with the voices of created
+things. A glimmering sulphur-moth came fluttering before her.
+Ethelfrith began to run. About and about she chased it, screaming in
+her excitement; and presently she fell on her knees, panting, by the
+brookside, her arms clasped around a clump of meadowsweet and
+forget-me-not.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Summer was summer once again.
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+They were all upon a green knoll, sheltered by ash and elm. They had
+flown their hawks with some success, and were now enjoying shade and
+repose, while their attendants laid the midday meal before them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ethelfrith looked often at Ethelbert. He was listening somewhat
+impatiently to Eadburh, whose florid beauty was evidently little to his
+taste.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord King," she was saying, "ye seem to me in no wise a monkish man. I
+thought, from what I had heard, that surely ye would betake you to the
+life of the cloister, or else bind yourself to all of a saint's life in
+your kingly halls. I beseech you say, had ye ever such a meaning?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They were my youthful thoughts," said Ethelbert. "But I have put them
+far from me. A king's life is for a king, and no monk's life. Besides,
+I am the last of my father's house."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He rose, and crossed to Ethelfrith, offering to pour mead into her
+drinking-horn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now Cynerith had looked often and long at Ethelbert since his coming.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A harmless boy!" she remarked to her daughter Eadburh; and then she
+said "Fore heaven! the handsomest boy I have seen this many a year!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Eadburh laughed her horse-laugh.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Are all things to thy liking, fair lady?" said Ethelbert to
+Ethelfrith.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, greatly to my liking, O King!" answered she.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Suddenly Cynerith called out, "Child, where is thine amethyst brooch?
+Is it lost, then, thou naughty one?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lady," said the girl, trembling, "I did give it&hellip;. Ye saw the
+beggars. One there was that might have been a leper; and there were
+little children. O mother, be not wroth! I could not do else&mdash;woeful
+was their crying. I sent them unto the sisters, who will feed them and
+care for them this night; and I gave my brooch unto the woman with the
+baby in her arms."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fie upon thee, fie upon thee!" cried the Queen. "Is my daughter
+altogether a fool? I will not have thee go among such filthy folk, to
+touch them belike! Precious stones give I not thee for this!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"All beggars and such scum should be whipped and branded," said
+Eadburh, little guessing that in years to come she herself would roam a
+foreign city,<a href="#note14" name="noteref14">
+<small>[14]</small></a> begging her bread. "Lord father, think ye not that it
+would be well that when a bondman have not work enough, or when he
+feign himself a cripple, his lord might sell him beyond seas? So do I
+often tell King Beorhtric."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, why," Ethelbert broke in, "I miss my ring of onyx!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was it loose upon thy finger?" said Queen Cynerith. "Often in
+unhooding a hawk&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay," said he, smiling, "I do think it is where the Lady Ethelfrith's
+sweet charity would have it be!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cynerith bit her lip.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have ye indeed bestowed your ring upon the beggars?" Ethelfrith
+whispered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Surely, aye," answered he. "The sad, sorry souls! These do fear lest
+they be besmirched by fellowship with the mean and ailing. But I think
+that a king, before all men in the earth ought to be lowly." Bending
+towards her, he said softly, "Tell me now, are all things truly to thy
+liking?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, my lord&hellip;." said she. Here, amongst all these people&mdash;before all
+her kindred!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"'High and mighty' I greeted thee," he pursued. "Dearest, I knew not
+then to whom I spake. 'Soft and lovely lady' hail I thee now!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He handed her down the slope and together they wandered slowly through
+the fields.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The royal party followed immediately, and they proceeded, mostly on
+foot, along the path which leads through the lush meadow-land.
+Presently Cynerith called the King of East Anglia to her, and they in
+their turn headed the company.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May-tide is God's gift to lovers," she said. "The Queen's words are
+sooth," was his rejoinder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hearken to the live things, and to the birds," said Cynerith, and her
+eyes were languishing. "Ethelbert, a woman's heart blooms blithe and
+tender in this month of May!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Eadburh looked her sister from head to foot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Art not a fine woman," she remarked. "Belike thou wilt yet grow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Think ye I must needs become a fine woman?" said the other, smiling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Men like them," replied Eadburh. "All men," she added, with a meaning
+glance towards Ethelbert.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What wouldst thou hint?" cried Ethelfrith; but Queen Eadburh was gone
+from her side.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The younger sister was not easy in heart or mind. Lately she had become
+aware of circumstances which she did not care to think on; and now, her
+sister's words! She was used to the moods of her mother; but there was
+also Sexwolf, the young lord who had been the Queen's constant
+companion for two years&mdash;he was full of smouldering fury, it was
+evident, and would speak to no one. Her brother was near at hand, but
+he always snubbed her when she talked inquisitively; he would be no
+help. There was thane Edric, the honest old man, seneschal of the
+court; she was certain he would tell her plainly anything he thought
+she ought to know. Why should she not take her perplexities to him?
+Alack! here was Eadburh again! Her she could not question. She would
+consult old Edric later on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is a woman ever too old to love?" said Cynerith the Queen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ethelbert looked up quickly, surprised and a little amused. They were
+walking along the edge of a springing cornfield.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look, the bonny blossoms!" cried she.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stooped over a patch of poppies, whose bowls seemed to burn with
+liquid scarlet fire. As she did so, her hand brushed against
+Ethelbert's as though by accident.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bonny, for sure," answered the young man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pity they have no smell&mdash;as it were, no soul. They are rank, too, I
+think. O lady mother, this morning I heard Ethelfrith singing to
+herself&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<hr class="short">
+
+<p>
+"Why, Leofgythe, whither away?" said Ethelfrith.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Said the waiting-maid: "Lady, there is great mirth afoot to-night for
+us of the household. The Queen hath given us leave that we may go to
+the dancing at Aegelstane the Thane's. I beseech you, my lady, that ye
+forget not to comb your locks right thoroughly; they must shine like
+gold for King Ethelbert."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good luck go with thee, Leofgythe," cried the Lady gaily. "I would we
+might have dancing too. But I fear me we shall be too few." And she
+passed on up the staircase.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the palace hall King Ethelbert and Queen Cynerith sat facing one
+another across a little table, playing at chess. All was not well
+between them. The Queen leant very far over the board, and her lips
+were pouting. Her fingers rested lightly upon the head of a chessman.
+Suddenly she withdrew her hand, and launched a side-long look at her
+opponent from beneath drooping lashes. Ethelbert's brow was black, and
+for an instant there appeared in his eyes a glint of loathing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Cynerith surveyed the board once more and played her piece.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was checkmate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As by a common impulse, they both rose, making no comment upon the
+game. The Queen was flushed and quivering. Ethelbert bowed to her and
+strode hurriedly from the hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Cynerith went then to King Offa's private chamber. The King was there
+alone: he smiled at sight of her, and greeted her lovingly. Cynerith
+stood before him, rapping one foot upon the earthen floor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lord," she burst forth at last, "what will ye do if things fall out
+even so as your dearest wishes be undermined?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Offa spread wide his hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How now, sweetheart?" he queried, laughing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It were well to be ready. If East Anglia become our foe&mdash;if Ethelbert
+will not wed with Ethelfrith&mdash;&mdash;?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not wed with Ethelfrith! Not wed my little maid! How, wife, what
+meanest thou?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I understand not, for my life," said Cynerith, "which way things are
+faring between them twain! It is my belief that Ethelbert is here to
+pick a quarrel with thee, Offa."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tush, woman, woman! I have marked nought of this."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou wilt own that my woman's wit is ever quicker than thine own,
+husband. I think he beareth little love to our daughter, and none to
+thee or me, or any of us. For all he is so mild, and his tongue so
+smooth, he is a man to scheme deep undertakings. Why hath he brought
+with him so great an armed train&mdash;greater far than a wedding
+warranteth? Offa, I tell thee this youth will some day spread his sway
+in England, even so far as thou hast spread thine!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If I thought he truly scorned my daughter&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shall we let him go forth, husband, wed or unwed? Thou shouldst set
+him straightway in ward, the wheedling knave! or there are other ways,
+maybe!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lady wife," said Offa, "do thou bear in mind that this man is our
+guest!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lord, Ethelbert is young, and as for thee, thou hast looked thy
+last upon the height of thy manhood. And Egbert our son will never be
+the man that thou art. I say, beware! Come tell me now, if so be that
+Ethelbert of East Anglia wriggle from out of this pact he is come to
+make with us&mdash;if he make of us laughing-stocks from Iceland unto Caisar
+Charles's court&mdash;aye, and beyond&mdash;say ye will strike, O Offa of Mercia,
+so that your kingly dignity be upheld in the land!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God knoweth I will strike, and right heavily!" cried Offa. "I give my
+word I will not fail thee. But, lady, I hold thee mistaken&mdash;all this
+can scarcely be."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And as he was in gleeful humour, he put the matter from his mind, and
+began contentedly to examine and polish his boar-spears. He had
+suffered one or two envious pangs through Ethelbert's youth and vigour.
+Moreover, strong man though he was, he had never been able to bridle
+Cynerith.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hardly had the Queen left the room than Sexwolf, her neglected
+favourite, sprang out upon her; and bitterly he upbraided her, raging,
+expostulating, pleading, outside the very door of King Offa's cabinet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hold thy tongue, young man!" said she loudly, in her stateliest tones;
+and she swept from before him into the hall, where some were setting
+out the evening meal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a hot evening, even sultry. They opened the doors, and such
+windows as had swinging frames, and the red glow of sunset shone in
+upon them for a brief hour. Though few of their court were to be
+present, they decked themselves that night in their full finery.
+Cynerith, clad in wine-purple, was as handsome, seen by twilight, as
+she had ever been in the days of her prime. Eadburh, in green and
+crimson, was gorgeous and blatant. Ethelfrith wore white, exquisitely
+embroidered with silver and gold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Star of Mercia was she indeed that night. Eadburh seemed a burning
+brazier by contrast; Cynerith a painted shrew. No more was the Lady
+Ethelfrith silent; merry words flowed from her lips; time and again her
+laughter rippled out, soft and joyous. King Offa began, as was his
+custom, to talk of his wars, and of the stupendous dyke, boundary
+between his dominions and the lands of the wild Welsh, which the March
+folk, at his bidding, had dug in the sweat of their brows; but he soon
+hushed his voice, and listened proudly while his youngest-born told of
+her new-found pleasure in hunting, dancing, and friendly company. Even
+the Atheling, a stalwart, somewhat sullen youth, was seen once or twice
+to smile.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They brought her cither, and she sang them all her store of songs, with
+an art and confidence of which none had ever thought her capable. King
+Ethelbert applauded her and cast fond looks upon her, and at the end of
+every ditty he prayed her for more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By and by, when the light faded and the torches were kindled, Offa the
+King began to yawn, and to doze in his chair. The Queen then conversed
+apart with Ethelbert. She bore herself meekly towards him, was innocent
+and child-like in manner and speech. Presently Offa awoke. His wife was
+beside him, bearing a brimming tumbler.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What&mdash;what&mdash;sweetheart?" said he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is mine own brew that thou lovest so well," Cynerith replied. She
+waited while he drank, and noted how the potion increased his
+drowsiness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Husband," she whispered, "I have sure proof that it is even as I
+guessed. He will go hence upon the morrow, leaving us pledges which he
+hath no mind to fulfil. Then will he stir up the men of his own
+kingdom, without doubt, hoping to take thee defenceless in thine old
+age. The hour is ripe, Offa my King! Shall he live to work our
+undoing?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I shall be nithing in the eyes of all men," murmured Offa.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lo, no man shall know how the end did come about," said the Queen. "I,
+thy wife, will be thy handmaid in this as in all things, aye, and bear
+the blame, if blame be to follow. Trust in me. O son of Woden, it
+profiteth not a man to spare his enemies. Hereafter shall thy sway
+reach from the hills of Wales even unto the eastern sea."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Offa nodded his head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She took another cup in her hand, and beckoned to Ethelbert, who rose
+to meet her midmost in the hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We will talk together of the wedding day," said she. "The King leaves
+all such business unto me." Then they drank to one another, very
+gravely, where they stood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Eadburh, sitting by her sister, nudged her, with sneering lips.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let us now to bed, children," cried Cynerith.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I trow we are all full weary, even as our lord the King."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As she passed out, she said in the ear of a trusted servant: "Gymbert,
+be ready against I need thee!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edric the seneschal stayed behind, searching the floor and the tables
+for property mislaid, smothering the torches himself with meticulous
+care. He heard a light step brush across the strewn rushes. Ethelfrith
+stood before him, darkly cloaked and hooded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My little hare was ailing this evening," said she. "I might not find
+thee, Edric, though I sought. But even now he is better than I could
+earlier have hoped."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will go see him early to-morrow," said Edric, "if ye do think he
+will live through this night." He was a man of few words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He will live through the night&hellip;. Edric, I have no wish to sleep. I
+have thoughts and fears which break through my rest&hellip;. And then &hellip;
+Eadburh said &hellip; at least I do fancy that she meant to say&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Her tongue wags ever too fast," Edric rejoined. "Well, lady, what said
+she?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was of my lord King Ethelbert she spake&hellip;. I am sorely troubled.
+Meseemeth that the Queen and King Ethelbert love each other not, or
+mayhap&hellip;. And there is strife between my mother and Sexwolf&hellip;. I hate
+Eadburh!" cried Ethelfrith. "God forgive me!" she added, horrified.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Surprise and interest went far to conquer Edric's wonted reserve. The
+little princess irked him usually; but now&mdash;yes, and formerly
+throughout that evening&mdash;she showed signs of a spirit that he had never
+suspected to exist in her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Listen, lady," said he. "King Ethelbert should go his ways, taking you
+with him. He loveth you dearly, as all may see. Here hath he been three
+weeks, and is no nearer the settlement of that which brought him
+hither. Ye are scarce even a moment together. This is a drear
+betrothal."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Alack! how can I help?" said she. "Can a maid beg a man to wed her?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And fret not yourself too greatly over what Queen Eadburh may say or
+do. Her mind is evil, and all that she looketh upon doth take on for
+her the same ill hue."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O Edric, good Edric, dear Edric, say to me that all must be well! My
+heart sinks within me. Tell me&mdash;tell me truly whether my father's court
+be fair and clean, as I have heretofore dreamed it to be!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edric turned away his face, and began to poke, with the staff which he
+always carried, in the rushes beneath a little table standing under one
+of the windows. A faint clink resounded. He stooped and picked up a
+small, finely-wrought key with a handle curiously bent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"That is my mother's wry-necked key!" exclaimed Ethelfrith. "Great
+store sets she by it. Thou knowest she weareth it ever upon the chain
+at her waist."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She leant much upon the board this evening, playing at chess with
+Ethelbert," said the old man, "Belike it was rubbed loose, or the chain
+broke."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It openeth the garden door of the chamber, built down into the earth,
+beneath the Queen's bedroom," the Lady continued. "I have never been
+within, nor hath any that I have heard of. But Gymbert may go
+sometimes: he hath another key like unto this. Once, one of the maids
+did whisper&hellip;. But I will not believe it!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Neither have I ever seen into that chamber," said Edric the seneschal;
+and both together they uttered the same words:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"This night spake she into the ear of Gymbert, even as she left the
+hall!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O child, be strong!" said Edric. He stopped and coughed. "There would
+be no harm," he ventured, "in learning to be strong."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They were both silent for a little while. Then "Take thou the Queen's
+key, Ethelfrith Offa's daughter," said he. "She shall deem it utterly
+lost. It may serve thee at need."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She slipped it into her bosom, and went softly from the room.
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+"God's blood! thou sorry young fool!" cried Offa's wife. "Is this all I
+must hear from thee&mdash;I, who have done thee so much honour? By the
+Fiend! thou art right hardy! Thinkest indeed that the man who scorneth
+me shall have my daughter? I am no loser, and Offa and I, we shall
+share thy kingdom!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She stamped her foot three times, and scarcely had she done so when a
+part of the floor of her bedchamber began quickly to descend, and
+Ethelbert King of the East Angles, who stood upon that part, sank with
+it out of sight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There followed one or two cries, fierce, but muffled almost to
+extinction, and a thud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Queen put her face to the opening, and called, "Gymbert, is all
+done?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was no reply. She bent low to listen. Then a piercing sound
+assailed her ears&mdash;the voice of a woman, shrieking again and again,
+with gruesome, mechanical regularity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another moment, and Cynerith had reached the garden. The outer door of
+this wing, her private door, was open. Upon the threshold stood her
+youngest daughter, in night-rail and hooded cloak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Gymbert the Queen's thrall rushed at the Lady Ethelfrith, and tried to
+take hold of her. She fought and beat him off, and tottered, shrieking
+still, though more faintly, sobbing and moaning, down the few steep
+steps and towards the middle of the room, where lay a shapeless mass
+from which a pool of crimson was spreading slowly. A flickering lantern
+swung from a hook upon the wall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Others arrived upon the scene. First came old Edric; then Eadburh, with
+her mass of tawny hair about her face; then Offa, muttering hoarsely;
+and all the inhabitants of the palace thronged to learn what had
+befallen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ethelfrith was seated upon the ground, holding Ethelbert's dissevered
+head in her arms, and she rocked herself to and fro, and chanted in a
+far-away tone.
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Under the leaves, under the leaves,</p>
+<p>There saw I maidens seven!"</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+She broke off short, and changed her tune.
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Then He built Him a bridge of the beams of the sun,</p>
+<p>And over the water ran He;</p>
+<p>And the three wealthy wights they followed him after,</p>
+<p>And drowned they were all three!"</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+"Come, canst thou riddle me my ridlass?
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p class="i12">"Yellow and green,</p>
+<p class="i12">Sharp and keen,</p>
+<p class="i12">Grows in the mene.</p>
+<p>The King cannot ride it, no more can the Queen."</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+"No more can the Queen&hellip;. I must mind me to tell my mother that in two
+years and a little more her son will be lying dead and cold. How sister
+Eadburh will storm at what must follow&mdash;the fall of our proud house!&hellip;
+Heart's dearest, the sun is high in heaven. Why do ye not awake, my
+lord? Do ye not hear the lark singing? Ethelbert, there is blood all
+about thy hair&mdash;it is like a crown, Ethelbert!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Babbling thus and laughing, she was torn away: nor did she ever recover
+her reason, though she lived thereafter thirty years.
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<a name="IV">&nbsp;</a>
+<p class="chapter">
+Earl Sweyn the Nithing
+</p>
+
+<p class="head">
+<i>Being the Chronicle of Winifred Ebba's daughter</i>
+</p>
+
+
+<p>
+In the first year of King Hardicanute, on the sixth-and-twentieth day
+of May, feast of blessed Augustine, Algive, only child of Aldred,
+sometime thane of Berrington, became by oath-plight nun of the Order of
+blessed Benedict, before the altar of the Abbey-church of Leominster,
+lately builded and begun by Leofric the good Earl. By this means grew
+the hoard of the same holy house the richer by the half of her goods.
+The other half, and her land at Berrington eke, Athelstane her uncle
+kept for himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the self-same day, and in the self-same abbey-church, did I,
+Winifred Ebba's daughter, whose father had been freed churl of the
+father's father of this Algive, make also mine awful vows to serve God
+after St. Benedict's law. Algive Aldred's daughter had then fifteen
+years, and I six more than she: all the days of our lives had we played
+together, and I watched over her. And for that I had ever longed, since
+I could mind me, for the religious life, I was glad in that hour: and
+my kindred chode not too greatly, for that I willed to tread the path
+whereon wended our old thane's daughter. But for Lady Algive was her
+oath-plight the spring of many and bitter woes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now Algive was a right comely maiden. Like the blush of the wild rose
+on milk was the skin of her cheek: red as the wild rose-berries her
+soft lips; her hair yellow as the heart of the honeysuckle, and long
+and curling before they shore it; and her eyes were blue and grey
+together, as the onyx-stone in my Lord Bishop's great ring. She was
+hale, blithe, and unmoody, mild and forgiving; she worshipped God as do
+most women; she had ever a most sweet ruth for all that ailed or
+sorrowed; boughsome was she unto the rule of St. Benedict, in so far as
+the Abbess willed: yet I do mind me of thinking always that Heaven had
+not called her to be a nun. Howsoever, these thoughts kept I to myself.
+Twenty sisters were we, a few good enough, many less good than the best
+that lead the life of the world. We dwelt together in peace as far as
+might be; but there were no saints among us, such as King Edward loved.
+Nor was there such learning at Leominster as many of our English
+sisterhoods did boast of; but of such things I cannot speak cunningly,
+nor was I ever drawn to lettered lore. For me, the things of the
+household: let me cook and mend, heal and bind, and all happiness is
+mine. Our sister Algive had small learning enough. But because she was
+sunny ever, and none hated her, and because, moreover, her kin were
+mighty folk, when the Abbess Mildred came to die, we made her Abbess
+over us. Algive was then in her one-and-twentieth year. I do think that
+from first to last her rule was overmild. Many of us left prayer for
+idle talking&mdash;an ill thing where there are many women! Me she took from
+the kitchen, wherein I had wrought since my coming to the convent, to
+be sub-prioress, and sent me often as her trusted bode about the farm
+and garden.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Those were the days when holy King Edward sat upon the throne in
+Thorney Island, by London town, and doughty Earl Godwin swayed the
+land. Many hated this Godwin; not a few feared, but ever followed him;
+but I who knew him can tell you so much of him: Were he greedy of
+wealth and grasping after means to might, yet had he a stout English
+heart, and none loved better than he the English land, or kenned better
+the wants of English folk. Churl's son or childe's son, I wit not, but
+King Edward took his daughter, fair Edith, as Lady of the English; and
+the children of Godwin were of the blood of kings, for he wedded Gytha
+the Danish Lady, kinswoman of King Canute. But though foremost in Witan
+and in leaguer, two of his own sons might Earl Godwin never rule. Of
+the six sons of Godwin, with three have I, Winifred, had my dealings,
+and of those three this is my reckoning: Sweyn the eldest was a man,
+for all his wilfulness and his sinful wrath. Harold the next-born was a
+noble prince. Woe worth the day wherein the arrow slew him! As for
+Tostig, fair of face as Michael Archangel, he was a devil.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now the Abbey of Leominster stood in the old land of Offa, some
+fourteen miles from the Hereford, where the king's armies are wont to
+pass over Wye into the fastnesses of the Welsh. Some three years before
+my lady Algive became our Abbess, Sweyn the first-born son of Godwin
+was made Earl, and given as Earldom much of the old kingdom of the
+March&mdash;to wit, Herefordshire and Gloucestershire, and more beside. Ere
+long there spread from mouth to mouth tales of the wildness of our
+young Earl, even such wildness as Godwin his father bore with never in
+any other lord in England. More viking he seemed than Englishman, which
+made some to wonder, and to put abroad a groundless slander. And with
+brooding brows and foreboding nods, folk would tell of how he spurned
+the wise words of the old, or of how he would at times drink deep, and
+then fall to singing, fighting, or love-making maybe. Yet was he a
+righteous lawgiver, and open-handed ever: loving a daring deed, a
+hearty lay, a tale of the great ones of bygone years. Few there were
+that wished him not well, and few that prayed not God to bring him
+through the storms of youth to a steady manhood. Alack! alack for Lord
+Sweyn! tallest, proudest, most gifted of all the Godwinsons!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was on the twenty-sixth day of May&mdash;the self-same day of our
+profession&mdash;in the year of Our Lord One Thousand, Forty and Seven, when
+the hawthorn was in full bloom, and the bleak blossoms of the
+blackthorn hung withered and tattered on their swart stems, and all our
+broad meadows shone golden with the buttercup, that we of the convent
+of Leominster heard a clatter of many horses' hooves upon the
+cobble-stones before our door. And there before the door was Sweyn our
+Earl, with twenty Danish house-carles that followed him, and at his
+side some of the wealthiest and worthiest thanes of our smiling shire
+of Hereford. He was much above the mean height, long-limbed and lithe,
+with a swift and noiseless tread; not ruddy, as are the most of the
+English, but dark of hair and milk-white of skin as his mother the
+Dane, and browned about the face and neck by wind and sun; with a nose
+like the beak of a hawk, and eyes like the hawk's for brightness, and a
+sudden, rare smile such as God gives to few. And a most beguiling
+tongue had Earl Sweyn&mdash;the tongue of a sagaman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw his coming, peeping from an upper window, and went in haste with
+the tidings to the Lady Abbess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He strode into her little parlour, and louted low before her. Then many
+a strange thing happened. I was standing by at this their first
+meeting, and what there befell can I forget never. For ye must bear in
+mind that for six years I had toiled without end within the convent
+kitchen, and beheld no man, young or old, goodly or wizen, but Godmund
+the priest. It was a fair sight that greeted the Earl, that of Algive
+Aldred's daughter, now full-grown to womanhood&mdash;two and twenty years
+had she&mdash;fair even in her weeds of black, with her eyes lowered, yet
+she peering, as I knew, all the while from beneath her lashes. And so,
+when he then beheld her, Sweyn Godwinson grew pale beneath his bronze,
+and stood stock-still before her, his look all wonder. Algive raised
+her grey-blue eyes to his for one short moment. Of a sudden she dropped
+her gaze once again to the hem of her kirtle, and felt fumblingly for
+the crucifix at her waist. Then Sweyn flushed deep red, and his fingers
+clenched on the handle of his boar-spear; and taking another step
+forward, he bowed him down once more, and gave her greeting in words.
+Thereafter these twain talked together in courtly wise, as befitted
+them.
+</p>
+
+<hr class="short">
+
+<p>
+From that day forth came Earl Sweyn often to our Abbey. Twice or thrice
+had he with him his near kinsman, Beorn, late made Earl of the Middle
+English, sister's son to King Canute. This was a handsome man enough,
+but methought his eyes were treacherous. After a while Earl Sweyn
+brought Beorn no more, but himself came, and was much with the Abbess
+alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My lady had indeed grounds for beseeching help of him: her churls were
+unruly, and who could rede the Abbess so well as the Earl? Howsoever,
+within the sisterhood was there great tattle of talk, and light hinting
+anent their two names. I but waited, and prayed, feeling sharp woe, and
+sorrowed in my heart&mdash;Mary forgive me!&mdash;as much for him as for her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then one day late in June, the Lady Abbess rode forth, with only a band
+of weapon-bearing churls, to Hereford, where Sweyn the Earl then dwelt.
+A week's stay made she there, then rode back again to her Abbey. No
+more was she the woman that she had been&mdash;even Algive the fair,
+sparkling as a beam of the sun. Wan as the dead was she now, with
+tight-drawn lips. All day long would she walk up and down the cloister,
+up and down the garden paths, oft-times wringing her hands together.
+The evil mutterings grew, and tongues waxed ever louder and bolder; and
+some sisters forbore not openly to cast gibes at their Abbess almost
+before her back was turned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I beguiled them as well as I could to leave chatter and spend
+themselves in healthful work, for it was hay-harvest-tide. On a day
+early in August, the eleventh day, we bore in our last load of hay. I
+mind me well of that eleventh of August&mdash;sultriest day of all that
+sultry month: the lift bright as glass, and cloudless altogether until
+the hour of sun-setting. All day long we laboured in the heat, staying
+only for our holy offices, the which were soon said under the roof-tree
+of heaven; and every sister, yea, even the Abbess Algive herself,
+worked as lustily as the stoutest churl. All was done at early even;
+the great wains rolled home to the barns, and we passed in thankful
+procession to our church, and there sang vespers, as well as we might
+for our parched throats. The evening meal was spread in the hall of the
+convent: each nun stood beside her stool at the board&mdash;thinking, one
+and all, I trow, of white wheaten bread, and cool cider, and eke of
+dreamless slumber: at the board's head, the Abbess had but now beckoned
+to Godmund the Priest that he should ask blessing on our food, when
+there arose a loud clamour without, such as made even the drowsiest to
+start, and we heard the voice of the portress, angry and shrill. Then
+one threw open the door of the hall, and there upon the threshold stood
+Earl Sweyn Godwinson, and behind him his house-carles, twenty dauntless
+men of the Danes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Earl Sweyn stepped within the hall, up to where the Abbess was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lady," he cried, before us all, "here am I. Come thou with me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Abbess Algive would not meet his gaze. She strove a little to speak,
+and a whisper came.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord Earl&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sweyn kept his glowing eyes upon her until at last she raised her eyes
+to his. Then:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sweyn, Sweyn," quoth she, and went to him, putting both her hands into
+his hands. She would have withdrawn them indeed, but he caught her
+about the body, and laughing a little, bore her shoulder-high from her
+convent hall.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We sped to our gates, but he was already ahorse, with her before him,
+holding to him tightly, and his men were springing to their saddles.
+Out at the gates they streamed, and we after them, into the midst of
+Leominster town, where they halted a little while. What a sight was
+there upon Leominster green! Small wonder that the folk thronged to
+stare! There were the sisters of blessed Benedict, running hither and
+thither as they were wode, all shrieking, some laughing, most wailing
+and calling upon all the saints: there lame old Father Godmund,
+snuffling and chiding all unheeded; in the midst of all, Sweyn the
+Earl, with his Danish house-carles about him, marking naught, it
+seemed, but a loose nail in his horse's shoe. Suddenly, one Sister
+Sexburh, who had been ever greedy after gold and jewels and such light
+things of the world, cried with a loud voice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What, good sisters! bide ye here when the road lies open before you?
+What of the flock when the shepherdess is fled? Must we ever waste
+within walls?" And picking up her kirtle with one hand, she set off
+swiftly down the high-way, with Offa the drunken thane in her wake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But of all that there befell&mdash;to my shame I own it&mdash;I heard no more,
+for now Earl Sweyn set his horse's head towards Hereford, and with him
+was Algive with her arms about him; and I had no more thought of the
+Abbey of Leominster, of my holy oath of profession, of the needy I was
+wont to feed and clothe and the sick I was wont to heal; but I ran
+until I came up with Sweyn's horse, catching at his stirrup and calling
+out:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Leave me not, leave me not! Take me also, Lord Earl!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sweyn made sign to one of his men that rode beside him, who, stooping,
+lifted me into his saddle before him, and so was I borne along,
+following Earl Sweyn and my Lady Algive.
+</p>
+
+<hr class="short">
+
+<p>
+From that day forth was Earl Sweyn forced to flee from shire to shire.
+For wheresoever he would go, the noise of his sacrilege sped before
+him. All priests of God cried out upon him throughout the length and
+breadth of the land; and of the folk, the most did shun the Earl, and
+curse the whole brood of Godwin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Sweyn took pen in hand, and wrote unto Edward our King, his sister
+Edith the lady's lord, begging this thing of him: That whereas Algive
+Aldred's daughter had taken the holy oath-plight in full early youth,
+for dread of her kindred, whom she might not withstand, this Algive
+might now be freed of her oath, and be wedded to him, Sweyn Godwinson,
+as his lawful wife. Now blessed Edward was a great saint, ywiss. Did
+any man ill or slightingly by this Edward's self, his laws or his
+kingship, then had the King towards him the kind heart of a woman: but
+woe betide that one that had wrought wrong to Holy Church! He alone
+would find starkness in King Edward. For him had our Lord King heart of
+stone! When he had read the writing of Lord Sweyn, he cut and tore the
+same in shreds, and stamping his foot upon the ground, swore by blessed
+Dunstan's bones that Sweyn Godwinson should rue the day wherein he was
+born.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+King Edward was abiding at Winchester, and Earl Godwin and his other
+sons were with him. Unto his father sent Sweyn then for help, but
+Godwin did most straitly let that he should not come to him: nor would
+any of his brethen hold speech with Sweyn, but Harold only.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then was Algive the Abbess stricken with fear, and wanhope, and bitter
+remorse, and she fled from before Earl Sweyn, and hid herself in the
+house of a kinsman of mine own, in the borough of Pevensey, in
+Kentland, where, try as he would, he might never come at her. Here, in
+the summer of the next year, her son Haco was born.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And about this tide was Sweyn Godwinson outlawed by Witenagemote, and
+became as a wolf, and his head as a wolf's head, and thus any man might
+slay him, and yet go guiltless of blood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Sweyn fled to the sea-shore, and took ship with his house-carles,
+and fared unto his Danish kin, and with them roved the seas a viking,
+for full a year and more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now my Lady Algive and I abode in the house of Oswy my kinsman, a
+worthy chapman of the town of Pevensey, and the folk around kenned
+nought of us nor of whence we came, believing her to be a widow and I
+her maid. For King Edward and Earl Godwin had made fast unto my lady
+some small means of livelihood. Thus a whole year passed from the
+spring of Sweyn Godwinson's forth-going, and summer was come again. And
+one fine day, when my lady and I did walk forth into Pevensey market to
+buy us fresh cake-bread, who should come through the market, wending
+afoot, but Sweyn's cousin, Earl Beorn of the shifty eyes. He caught
+sight of Algive's face beneath her wimple, as she stood by the
+cake-seller's booth, and halted beside her, and spake softly, near to
+her ear. And when my lady returned to our dwelling, Earl Beorn went
+along with her, and there talked with her alone some while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Often thereafter came he unto my lady Algive at my kinsman's house at
+Pevensey&mdash;once in the week at the seldomest. What this boded I could
+not guess, but ever I misliked this Beorn more and more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening, late in summer, I, after long wandering by the shore in
+the cool of the eventide, hied me home, weening that somewhat ailed my
+lady, and sought her in her own small chamber. I found her therein,
+crouched low upon the floor, white as sheeted ghost, her eyes a-stare,
+her mouth round-agape. Seeing me, she stumbled to her feet, and with
+one great sob, flung her arms about my neck and held me as she would
+never let me go.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Winifred, sweet friend," then said mine alderliefest lady, "fail me
+not now, thou that hast followed me through weal and woe! For now must
+I to a deed before which my whole being quails. Know then&mdash;Earl
+Beorn&mdash;he hath wooed me long to his own ends, and I withstood him,
+minding me that my troth is to Christ our Lord, even though I be now
+desecrate. But ever he spake of the King, and of how he, Beorn, had
+lately besought him that Sweyn might come again into England, and be
+made once more lord and earl, as beseemeth his father's son. And King
+Edward, said he, seemed like to yield. And oh! I have but now plighted
+me, that if Sweyn be inlawed by his means, I will go unto Beorn
+whensoever he shall send for me&hellip;. O Winifred, thou wilt yet stand by
+me? Thou wilt go with me&mdash;on that day&hellip;? To what end my soul's weal?
+Is not Sweyn's life wrecked through me?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Seeing how it was with her, I wrestled not with her resolve, but
+soothed her crying, and swore to stand or fall by her. In the town of
+Pevensey I had a friend, a trusty good-wife who had been whilom of Earl
+Godwin's household, and loved Lord Sweyn as her own bairn. Indeed, I
+had but now learned of her that Sweyn, with his Danish ships, hung even
+then about the shores of Kent. And in his father's lordship of Bosham
+were some, as I knew, that gave him food and shelter when he willed to
+set foot on English ground. To one of these I sent, bidding him tell
+Sweyn the outlaw that I had that for his ear alone which must be said,
+and quickly. Three days later I found him, Earl Godwin's first-born,
+within a filthy hovel, wherein must he ever stoop that his head hit not
+against the thatch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Straightway I fell on my knees before him, not knowing what I
+uttered&mdash;only saying over and over:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord Sweyn, Lord Sweyn, this must not be!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And I told to him the guilty bargain made by my Lady Algive with Beorn
+the Earl, for sake of him, Sweyn Godwinson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scarce was my meaning clear ere his fell wrath began to gather like a
+thunder-storm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"May he burn in hell-fire!" cried Sweyn. "May earth spue forth his
+body, that he come never to no burial! May the ravens of Odin pick his
+bones for ever, and each day may the flesh grow upon them anew! The
+toad! The rat!&mdash;Aye, I too have trafficked with Beorn Estrithson of
+late, and found him kindly and loving enough. Speak for me to the King!
+Shall I be inlawed? I do think for a day: and then, if I but yawn at
+mass, or smile at a pretty wench by the roadside, they will drive me
+once more forth!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then growing calmer he said:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Into thy keeping give I Algive. Watch well; and when Beorn would work
+his wicked will, send me tidings, and I will be with them ere harm can
+come to that lady."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Honeyed words spake Earl Beorn in King Edward's ear, and within the
+week was Sweyn Godwinson inlawed, and of the King bidden come and
+welcome.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the self-same night my lady bade me wit that the hour of her dread
+was nigh. Now the King's ships were out, ready to fight with Baldwin
+the Flemish Earl, but in the end King Edward willed not to war with
+Baldwin, so must the seamen to their own homes. It had so befallen that
+the King had sent for Harold Godwinson to Sandwich, where he was then
+dwelling. Earl Harold's seamen were of Devon, and would make Dartmouth
+on the next day, and thus must Earl Beorn be over them in their ship of
+war, in Harold's stead. At eventide would Earl Harold yield up his
+command to Beorn his kinsman, in the haven of Pevensey; and at eventide
+would Beorn have my Lady Algive come to him aboard this ship.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I sent a trusty one in haste with these tidings unto Sweyn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the sun was setting, my lady, hooded altogether, and leaning upon my
+arm, went down to the water-side. In a shed, behind heaped-up timber,
+crouched we hidden, and watched Earl Harold and his household men land
+from the tall warship when the shades of night were fast drawing down,
+and set out for the court of the King. Earl Beorn was left, and four of
+his men, and they had all eaten and drunken well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When all was once more still, we crept out, she and I, clomb the ladder
+that yet hung adown the side, and so aboard the ship of Earl Beorn. In
+the bows lay the four seamen, heavy with the ale they had drunken: they
+seemed scarce to mark our going. Now Beorn awaited her astern, in a
+tent-room strung upon poles and screened on all sides with thick
+hangings, wherein he had feasted with Harold a little before. At the
+door of this tent I left her, and ran with all my haste to the ship's
+side. Beneath my cloak I had carried, so warily, a little lanthorn,
+whose horn I had shrouded with a scrap of thin red silk. This I waved
+thrice to and fro, for a token to Lord Sweyn without.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the twinkling of an eye, he came on out of the darkness, ten of his
+Danish followers in his wake: swiftly and soundlessly they leapt
+aboard. They took hold on three of Beorn's men ere they could struggle
+or cry, gagged them, and bound them fast. The fourth saw we not at all
+at that time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Swiftly sped Sweyn towards the Earl's tent, the great battle-axe of a
+viking in his hand, and I beside him. Even fleeter was I, for I forged
+ahead, and had torn aside the hangings even as he came up with me. Earl
+Beorn stood within, flushed and lowering: at his feet knelt Algive, her
+hood wrested away, and the fingers of his right hand clasped in the
+short golden curls of her hair. Beside him, as though thrust from his
+way, was a light trestle-board, yet strewn with bread, broken meats,
+and drinking-horns: upon this board he leant unsteadily with his other
+hand. Said he thickly, swaying a little:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By the hammer of Thor, who dare&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then Sweyn glided within, and called full softly and sweetly: "Ho,
+Beorn Estrithson! Here is Sweyn Godwinson!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it so?" said Beorn. "Is it so indeed? Sweyn the Outlaw! Sweyn the
+Nithing!" His voice rose in a drunken laugh. "Godwin's son! Sweyn the
+son of King Canute, and of Gytha the spotless princess."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the last hiss of that wicked worm. The Danish war-axe of Sweyn
+whistled once through the air, and smote Earl Beorn right between the
+brows, and he fell heavily along the deck, and by his blood was Algive
+all foully bespattered as she lay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And Sweyn sang loud and hoarse and high; hoarse and high and loud sang
+he:
+</p>
+
+<div class="poem">
+<div class="stanza">
+<p>"Utters the axe: of Sweyn the sea-rover;</p>
+<p>Lifeless he lies: the wiler of women!</p>
+<p>Blood of betrayer: is it not a sight full seemly?</p>
+<p class="i12">Haro! Haro!</p>
+<p class="i12">Ai&eacute;! Haro!</p>
+<p>Lo! cries his lord: Weapon unworthy,</p>
+<p>Lop I thy head leifer, than 'gainst brave and true men bear thee!</p>
+<p>Hempen death rather his, that was sib-folk's slanderer.</p>
+<p>'Cowards come not: To the halls of the Chosen!</p>
+<p class="i12">Haro! Haro!&hellip;"</p></div></div>
+
+<p>
+But of all that followed I nothing saw nor heard, for a great blow was
+stricken me behind the head, and black darkness rushed down upon mine
+eyes and ears.
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+The blood beat dully against my brow, and my head ached as it would
+split in twain. I lay on a day-bed, pillowed with down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the ship? There had been a ship&hellip;. The fourth man! He must have
+fallen upon me as I stood in the tent-door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nay, I was once again within four walls. There were voices of men and
+women about me. I opened mine eyes. Near-by saw I some that I kenned
+full well, though they kenned not me, for often had I gazed upon the
+great ones of the land, since coming into Kent. On a settle over
+against me sat proud Lady Gytha, Earl Godwin's wife: her grief had made
+her stony; her eyes were heavy, and her lips a thin, tight streak. Earl
+Tostig stood before the empty hearth, clanking ever at the golden chain
+about his neck. At the feet of his mother, upon a stool, sat Harold,
+holding on his knee the child Haco Sweynson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Stirs she yet?" said Lady Gytha.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, not yet," Tostig answered. I shut mine eyes, for his harsh tones
+jarred and sickened me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Was it Algive?" she said, right mournfully. "Has this woman once again
+brought my Sweyn to nought?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lady mother," spake Earl Harold, "I was, as ye know, at Dartmouth
+town, when, at dead of night, came one of my men to me. In a dark wynd,
+he said, armed men set upon him and held him fast, and one, whose voice
+seemed the voice of Sweyn, gave into his arms this child, son of Sweyn
+Godwinson, and bade him take him thence unto me, or be slain where he
+stood. 'And look thou beneath the shed of Oswald the shipman, by his
+wharfside,' quoth he that might be Sweyn, 'and there wilt thou behold
+more which beareth on this matter.' My man and his fellows sought the
+sheds of Oswald, and lo! bound hand and foot, four seamen of Beorn's
+ship, which Sweyn my brother sailed out of Pevensey, and the body of
+Beorn Estrithson our kinsman, mangled fearfully, and eke yon poor soul,
+whom the men of Beorn call the Lady Algive's woman."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I guessed that I was now in the house of Earl Godwin at
+Dorchester.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Slain by my son!" moaned Lady Gytha. "Beorn, who won for him the
+King's forgiveness!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Fore God and His host of hallows!" cried Tostig bitterly. "Heavy is
+now our shame! Such wantonness knows no end. Outcast of Holy Church was
+Sweyn Godwinson&mdash;and now black murder done on him who had befriended
+him. Shall the whole house of Godwin fall for the strayings of one?
+Were I King&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hold!" Harold thundered. "Never aught underhand did Sweyn, and that
+thou well wittest, Tostig!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this I strove to sit upright on my bed, but could not, and fell
+back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"See, she swoons no more," said Lady Gytha, and was at my side,
+bringing wine in a flask.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then there broke in upon us Godwin the Earl, with fumbling step, his
+eyes wild, his grey locks tangled and unkempt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Woe worth the day!" he cried aloud unto his lady. "Woe worth the hour
+wherein he saw the light, this son of thine! Twice outlaw he, and
+Nithing by the word of the armed Gemot! Foul blows where thanks were
+owing&mdash;that was well done, O Sweyn! No child of mine art thou
+henceforward. Harold, stand thou in his stead: thine are all the rights
+of the first-born."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He sank upon a settle, shading his countenance with his hands. Lady
+Gytha went to him, and her tears began fast to flow. Then came Tostig's
+whisper, sudden and clear as the cracking of ice:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What, Harold, so soon? I did think&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Harold chode not with him, for the boy Haco whimpered, and he fell
+to soothing him in most kind wise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then, by God's favour, I rose from my bed, and knelt at the feet of the
+Earl and his lady, and spake to them of the shameful saying of Beorn,
+the which had goaded Sweyn Godwinson to smite him to death. In after
+years, Lord Harold knew, but so softly spake I there that my tale was
+heard of Godwin and Gytha only, and no word reached the ear of Tostig.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I had ended, Lady Gytha arose, to pass from us all into an inner
+room. And Earl Godwin arose too, and caught her arm as she went.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Gytha&mdash;wife"&mdash;said he&mdash;"here is it at an end! I am old, I am old,
+Gytha!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was sooth he spake, the once stout Earl. He was an old man from that
+hour. But Gytha held her head high, and I knew that in her heart she
+was glad for her son.
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+Good folk, ye say that ye would hear yet further of Earl Sweyn and of
+the Lady Algive, who are now no more, and of how they came to their
+ends. Men say that King Edward would once more have pardoned this lord,
+Edith the Lady besought him so. But when Sweyn had put the body of Earl
+Beorn on shore at Dartmouth, of his eight ships, six then left him, for
+his men, both Danes and English, now beheld him stained with the blood
+of a kinsman. And as he sailed towards the east, in the warship of
+Beorn, with one of his own ships faithfully following, the men of
+Hastings set forth from their haven, and hunted these craft until they
+overtook and seized them. But Sweyn Godwinson they took not, nor Lady
+Algive that was with him; and they twain hied them into Flanders, and
+there abode all that winter. Thereafter Lord Sweyn went once more
+a-sea-roving, seeking forgetfulness, as I have heard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the year One Thousand Fifty and One, when the townsfolk of Dover,
+greatly wroth, did wreak the wrongs done to them by Eustace the French
+Earl upon the said Earl and his men, Godwin withstood the King upon the
+men of Dover's behalf, and was banished by King Edward beyond seas, he
+and all his house. Then went they also unto Baldwin's land, and Sweyn
+met them there, and abode with them, for he had long yearned for sight
+of his kindred.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Godwin was called back into England, they were for bringing Sweyn
+with them, to be inlawed, and received back into the King's trust, But
+Sweyn's pride was broken. He would come no more to the land of his
+birth, who had so fouled the fair fame of Godwin's house. Harold should
+stand in his stead: he would fare afar, pilgrim to the Holy Grave and
+Calvary Hill, that haply he might find the forgiveness of heaven. When
+the children of Godwin returned, they had in their keeping Algive my
+dear lady. All this while had she been in the city of Bruges, in the
+ward of Baldwin's daughter, Mahault, that is now Queen of the English,
+wife to King William. They sent for me to her, and put us to dwell
+together in the house of my kinsman at Pevensey, where we had woned
+aforetime.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now in two years from that time began my Lady Algive to wane and to
+wither, as a green bush when the sap no more rises. She spake little,
+and prayed long hours together. At last came the day, when she went
+abroad no more, and often kept her bed. Then one morning early, she
+called me to her side and thus quoth she:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O Winifred, this month agone dreamed I a dream, one that is sooth and
+no vanity. I dreamed that Sweyn, my lord and my love, stood before me,
+the rime in his hair, his feet bruised and bleeding, and beckoned me.
+So I know&mdash;ask me not how&mdash;that he is no longer on life, and that God
+in his goodness sendeth death to me also. But lo! another marvel. Each
+morn, as I awaken, I hear the ring of footsteps that come from a far
+frozen land. Each morn, I say, are these footsteps louder and nigher;
+but Sweyn comes not at all any more."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was at the winter-tide. Early in the next summer, my good friend,
+she who had been of the household of Gytha, sent to let me wit that an
+holy priest and pilgrim was lately come from the East, bearing tidings
+which my lady should hear. To our house-door came he, and I led him
+within to my lady, where she lay. And this was his tale, told in few
+words:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good wives, as I journeyed hither from the Holy City, I traversed the
+land of Lycia, where they have a winter more bitter than any winter we
+English know. And one evening came one to our fellowship, saying that
+yonder, beneath the roof of an holy hermit, lay a man of the north,
+they thought of the Island of the Angles, sick unto death. I followed
+this Lycian, seeking my countryman, and found him, a mighty man
+aforetime, I ween, but now so wasted with his wanderings that he seemed
+to have no flesh, but only skin and bone. And when I would shrive and
+housel him, thus he spake: 'Priest, know that I am Sweyn the Nithing,
+first-born son of Earl Godwin, and whilom Earl in fair England, from
+Hereford even unto Oxenford! Woe for the sins of unbridled youth! I
+have profaned the Holy Church of Christ, and have wrought murder, even
+upon my kinsman, when the red wrath boiled in my blood&mdash;aye, and the
+guilt of mine own father's death is also upon me, most wretched! Since
+these things done have I known no peace until this hour, wherein I
+leave my life.'
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Soon after died he of the cold."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now about an hour after this pilgrim had given over speaking, Algive
+Aldred's daughter went forth from the bitterness of the world to the
+unbounded mercy of God.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for Haco Sweynson, he fell fighting by King Harold upon Senlac
+field.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And I, Winifred, daughter of Ebba, yet live on, and pray in each hour
+to Our Lord Christ and to Mary mild, His Mother, that the souls of
+these twain, Sweyn and Algive, may be cleansed of every foul stain. For
+though their sins were many and great, yet scorned they none, nor lied,
+nor ever betrayed any but themselves, neither ground down the needy
+when that might was theirs; and verily and indeed they loved much; and
+I, who have sinned my share, God wot! do faithfully hope to meet them
+both again ere long in the fair, shining meads of Paradise.
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<a name="V">&nbsp;</a>
+<p class="chapter">
+Edith's Well
+</p>
+
+<p class="head">
+"<i>Sicut spina rosam genuit Goduinus Edivam.</i>"
+</p>
+
+
+<p>
+So, Gundred my son's daughter, thou hast been to London town; and thou
+hast seen this new Queen Edith, whom men in the French tongue call
+Maulde; and she is the fairest lady who ever in all the world sat
+beside king in high-seat; the most gracious, the meekest, the
+freest-handed, the most ruthful! Edith, quoth the child? Long ago there
+was an Edith&hellip;. Well, daughter, a queen once spoke to thy grandfather,
+and he to her; and a mighty wonder marked their meeting, which will be
+remembered while time shall last. Young folk love tales, and the old
+are fain to the telling of tales. Sit down by my feet, and hear how
+once upon a day Edith came to her Well yonder by the highway.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have witnessed frost and snow, storm and lightning, pest and famine,
+in my nigh-on-eighty years; I have known drought and burning also, but
+never such drought as befell us in the year One Thousand Sixty and
+Five. This was a great year in its beginnings: a marvellous year for
+the apple-bloom; we had carried two crops of hay before July was out;
+the wheat-ears were so heavy that they leant together as they grew,
+like unto folk in a crowd that swoon, and even the barley would
+scarcely bestir itself at the coming of a welcome wind. Oh, the heat of
+that summer! We had three showers in all between April and the end of
+August, and they but soft and slender. The earth cracked in places into
+gaps full many a foot wide; the grass was no more green, but the colour
+of the baked earth in which it had root: small weeds died, and the moss
+withered on stock and stone; half a day was the life of a brier-rose.
+Rabbits, hares, and some birds starved all about us; the field-mice
+were a scourge to us at the first, but later even they and the
+hedgehogs gave up the breath of life. The brooks dwindled and ceased to
+flow but in a trickle: many an age-old spring sent forth water no more.
+The morning dews were heavy, but soon gone; and the earth could drink
+them in no farther than a hen may scratch. Though we dug dew-ponds, the
+little moisture they gathered was not worth our toil. We cut the corn
+in haste, for the wild fowl rifled it day and night. Many an one that
+laboured did the sun strike dizzy. One man and one boy were slain by
+the heat-stroke, and some tottered from the fields to work no more that
+year. With those that remained, it was mug to mouth ten times in the
+hour! My cider was gone within the first three days; and then my goodly
+beer must follow! And in the second week in August they sent from
+Ledbury to tell me that Edith the Lady, King Edward's wife, would pass
+near by my dwelling as she went to visit her brother, Harold Godwinson
+the Earl, at Hereford, and begged that I in charity would give her
+refreshment upon her wayfaring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the Lady willed, so must I do, for our King's sake, and for the sake
+of other some. In my boyhood I had been one year a henchman of Godwin
+her father's; Gytha her mother had nursed me in some slight sickness; I
+had ridden out with Sweyn to fight with Griffith the Welsh king. I had
+not seen this Edith since she was a young maiden in her father's hall:
+men had told of her as both merry and learned; but I had never been
+near her, to speak one word. It was said that she led a gleeless life
+with her pious old lord. She would not pass right before my door, I
+deemed, on her way to the Hereford: I would take food and drink, and
+meet her upon the road that runs through Ledbury to Gloucester, and
+ride with her some deal of her journey, if she should wish for my
+company. So I set out about the ninth hour of the morning, with four of
+my men: my good wife, thy grandmother, I bade abide within doors, for
+fear of the deadly heat. We bore with us a pie and wheaten bread&mdash;no
+butter, for it would have melted. Little beer and no cider had I by
+then; but we took two skins of ripe mead, fit for queen or king.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sun was shining so strongly that we could almost hear the shooting
+of his beams. The air was seen to throb. White dust lay thickly over
+grass, bush and tree. There was a dreadful stillness; the only sound
+that ourselves made not was the sickening hum of flies. We went slowly,
+with bracken-leaves bound about our heads and twined within our horses'
+browbands. When we had gone some two miles, there befell a great
+mishap. The stopper flew from the mead-flask at the saddle-bow of
+Anflete the reeve, and the mead gushed out. We had not time to catch
+any of it ere it lay frothing in the dust. And then, as though the
+devil strove to plague us, the other bottle, which mine own horse
+carried, burst also, and left us likewise liquorless.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But we bore on, until we came to a spot a few yards off the Ledbury
+highway, where the banks were steep and the bushes shady: indeed, all
+about was the woodland of the vill of Stoke, belonging to this same
+Edith the Lady, who had set a reeve therein to see to her rights and
+her profits. Seemingly she would not stay to look upon her own land, so
+fain was she for sight of Harold her brother. Near the joining of the
+ways, then, we waited. Our throats were as dry as a smith's bellows. My
+men had swallowed what little beer we had left before I could forbid
+them. At once I made the blockheads seek for water, thinking of the
+wants of those we had come to meet. Not one drop within a hundred yards
+in every quarter, though God knows there are springs and streams enough
+thereabouts in any common year! We stretched ourselves in what there
+was of shade, and soon we beheld them coming, a goodly company of
+ladies and armed men.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We went forward to greet them; the foremost of them got down from their
+saddles; the Lady of the English came stately towards me, smiled, and
+put her small hand in mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Odda, right glad am I to meet with thee," she said. "Dost thou mind
+thee how at Winchester I let my head-rail fall from a window into the
+buckthorn-tree, and how thou didst climb in and get it again, and didst
+send it me by my mother's woman?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I remembered. Being but a henchman of the stable, I could not myself go
+with it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+How gracious her smile! How mild her condescension! Great wonder was it
+throughout the land, I knew, that she should be so lowly-sweet. The
+Lady Edith was little like to Earl Godwin her father, the rugged, grim
+old man! Although at this time about forty-four years old, as I think,
+she was an exceedingly fair woman still. Her skin was white as
+walrus-bone, and very little wrinkled; her hair long, thick, and
+red-golden as ever it had been, for though she was now hooded and
+staidly wimpled, I saw it uncovered later on that morning, and I could
+find therein no grizzled strand. Her clothing? She was cloaked and
+hooded, meseemeth, in fallow hue&mdash;and a little cross, finely-wrought in
+silver, hung at her throat; but how can a man speak of women's
+garments? I know that her mouth was soft and kindly, and quivered a
+little sometimes when she was not speaking; and there were now black
+shadows beneath her big grey eyes&mdash;maybe from the hardship of her
+journeying.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My lady," I answered, "I beg that ye will rest awhile, and eat of the
+food that I have here. Alack! I have no drink to set before you! We
+brought mead, but in the heat an hour agone it burst our bottles; and
+there is no water near at hand&mdash;we have but lately sought it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lady raised her hands to her brows in most weary wise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good Odda," she said, notwithstanding, "I thank thee much for thy
+kindness in thus coming, and for all the pains that thou hast taken.
+And since thy mead was lost on my behalf, I thank thee for it also. Let
+us sit here awhile and eat, as thou sayest; we are sore anhungered,
+that is sure. And later we will go find my reeve at Stoke over yonder.
+He will doubtless have one drop of somewhat for us each to drink. We
+also emptied our flasks an hour ago, silly souls that we were!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She had with her her mass-priest, her women, her men-at-arms, her
+thralls. We sat down upon the ground, and broke the pasty into
+portions, and dealt out my fine wheaten bread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As she talked with me of the old days in her own home, suddenly we
+heard a noise in the woodland upon our right&mdash;a child's voice
+wailing&mdash;the voices of two children. Far away at first, then somewhat
+nearer. Two wandering children, crying fit to burst their bosoms. Great
+breathless, thirsty sobs, swelling every now and then to a despairing
+roar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The lady had sprung to her feet, and had broken through the nearest
+bushes into the thicket beyond.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hither! hither!" she cried. "Come! Come! But where are ye? Weep no
+more&mdash;here is help!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We all followed her. She walked onward, calling; they shouted still,
+and drew nearer and yet more near: at last they came forth, the little
+mites, upon a bare plot whereon we had halted. Boy and girl they were;
+five and seven years old they seemed: hand clasped in hand, cheeks
+grimy with dust which their tears had furrowed, faces flushed and
+seared by the mighty heat.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She ran to meet them, with outstretched arms. They ran to her, and
+caught at her skirts. The girl, the younger, cried, "We were lost!" and
+the boy said hoarsely, "Mother!&hellip; O mother, the world looks black&hellip;.
+Oh, my head, I cannot see!" and he had fallen flat at her feet before
+she could stay him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The girl said, "Lady, my head&mdash;great smart have I also!" and her breath
+came thick and loud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Lady Edith gathered sorrel-leaves, and bound them about the heads
+of the bairns.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is not enough," said she then. "They must have water."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is no water here," Anflete my servant answered. "We sought it
+high and low before my lady's coming."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She wrung her hands in sharp woe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O Christ, have mercy!" she said. "O Mary, that art our mother,
+hasten&mdash;help!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then her passion seemed to leave her, and she knelt, and began to speak
+in still, low tones; but I heard her words.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Father of all goodness," she prayed, "save these twain alive, who are
+more to Thee than the wild sparrows! Strengthen then, Lord, I beseech
+thee, the gift that Thou hast bestowed upon Thine handmaid!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having so said, she arose, and quickly bade her folk bear the children
+with them, and shade the little ones' heads. It was high noon now, but
+she flung her hood back, and her wimple fell away and hung down with
+the hood, so that her bright hair was laid bare, and her shapely neck
+and breast of ivory. Many a woman would have seemed light-minded, even
+wanton, so; but our Edith was queen in everything she did. Although the
+soil was burning, and scorched the feet through riding-boots, she began
+to walk swiftly, glidingly, around and about. She held her
+riding-switch, a toy with handle of gold and amber, bent bow-wise
+between her two hands. Her lips were parted, as those of one who
+breathes-in freshest air.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And we followed, a great awe upon us. We were once more in the lane
+where we had rested, when a gleam awoke in her eyes, which had become
+dark and shut off from earthly sight, and she sped ahead of us even
+faster than at first. She came to where the bank overhung, and was
+covered with sagging ferns, shrivelled and caked with dust. A shiver
+shot through her whole body, and the switch that she carried started
+and writhed as it had been a live snake.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"God be praised!" she exclaimed. "Here is water for them!" She stamped
+her foot. "Dig! dig! Bring spades&mdash;Oh, dig! Quick! Would ye see them
+die before your eyes?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sebbe the charcoal-burner!" said Anflete. "I will fetch his spade."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edith had snatched his war-axe from one of her men-at-arms and was
+hewing at the bank whereunder she stood; I hacked away with my broad
+knife; some of the others scratched with their hands. In a little while
+Anflete was back from the charcoal-burner's with spade and pick, and we
+got more skilfully to work. A homely croon was heard in the heart of
+the earth. A spot of moisture darkened the bottom of the hollow that we
+had made. One spadeful more, and up it bubbled&mdash;a little spring, but a
+strong one. There were stones still within the hollow, and we put back
+more to keep up the shifting sides; and into the bowl so made the water
+flowed, thick and clotted, truly, with the dust and flakes of
+sandstone, but how sweet to touch and taste! Oh, the happy noise of
+water in a thirsty land!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Lady Edith dipped a clout in the well and bathed the heads and
+necks of the little ones, gave them to drink, and set them to lie in
+the shade. Soon the girl-child stirred and wept, and Edith lifted her
+up in her arms. A shrill cry made us all turn to behold a poorly-clad
+woman, hot and unkempt, who stumbled towards us, tears in her eyes and
+terror in her voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye naughty ones!" she stormed at sight of the children. "Here have I
+been&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then she stopped short, with open mouth, and stared at the slender,
+bare-headed woman who held her younger child, until one whispered: "It
+is the King's Lady!" when she louted down upon her knees.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hush! hush!" said Lady Edith to her sobbing burden. "Fear not,
+sweetheart! Thou must go home now&mdash;go to thy mother indeed!" and she
+laid her in the arms of the kneeling woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Never had she been more lovely than in that moment, her face shining
+like a rose, her eyes most tender and brightly-beaming. When, a short
+while after, she turned from mother and child and came seeking me, a
+huge pity rushed up within me, and I think that she read that pity in
+my look.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dread lady," said I, being a little mazed, and all soft with ruth,
+"how goes it with our Lord the King?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Whenas I left my lord, all was right well with him," she answered. "He
+had some sickness in the spring, but it irked him little, truly, for
+his years. Such an holy life he leads, and yet he is so long-enduring
+towards them of worldly mind! It is great joy to me that I may see him
+sometimes, and be somewhat near him."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She crossed herself, and the fair light faded from her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wherefore do I murmur?" said she. "Is not Jordan flood better than all
+the rivers of Damascus?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And so saying, she folded her meek hands above her heart, and went her
+way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I never saw her again. The well that she found for us abideth for her
+memorial: clear and cool in every weather&mdash;the freshest in all the
+countryside. I have often thought of her since that day; and I think of
+her more often now than ever in the long night hours that are not the
+drowsy hours when one has grown old. Dreams, Gundred, dreams&mdash;waking
+dreams, but idle things none the less! But sometimes meseemeth that her
+very self is near me, standing as I best knew her, arms outheld, face
+aglow. She lived and died childless; the old King had made an oath,
+they say, for fear he might fall short of heaven. Once or twice evil
+tongues have made free to slander her fame! She was staunch, I know,
+and flawless; and yet her heart was quick and warm. Girl, I have ever
+recked little of the greater deal of the saints to whom prelates bid us
+pray. Of God and of his goodness I reck much; and this is the saint
+whom I worship before all others, crowned in this world or
+uncrowned&mdash;Edith the well-beloved Lady, whom all her people honoured
+and pitied.
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+<a name="VI">&nbsp;</a>
+<p class="chapter">
+Richard the Scrob
+</p>
+
+
+<p class="head2">
+"Better than mine, Kenric&mdash;better than thine!" said Grim. "Ever his are
+taken, and ours are left. Who will look at our sheep and our oxen when
+the Scrob's are by?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Kenric withdrew the straw that he had been chewing from between his
+teeth, and ceased to stare at the white-limbed, red-spotted cattle in
+the pen before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Eh! he buyeth for the Bishop," he mumbled. "And he buyeth for the folk
+of Hereford town. And for the Abbot of Leominster. And for the Prior of
+Wenlock. His salted meat is rowed upon Wye and upon Severn to feed the
+merchantmen of Bristol. Grim, this Frenchman is a worker of spells."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And even so the beasts of his own breeding are such as thou wilt not
+meet with on any other man's land within the two shires. Heavier!
+Fatter! Sleeker! I would that his lord the devil would fly away with
+him soon! Hast thou but seen his woolsacks yonder? What other has such
+great store to sell? True, he can have little spinning at home, with no
+women."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have not seen him&mdash;Richard the Scrob," said vague Kenric, returning
+to his straw-munching. "Are not these sold already&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Kenric, stand not and grumble, with blind eyes," cried Munulf the
+maltman, who now accosted these two. "Here is a sight not often
+seen&mdash;the little widow, Kenric, the plump widow. Look up and behold the
+light of thine eyes, where she cometh, girt about with her husband's
+stalwart kinsfold."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hey? who?" Kenric rejoined. "Who cometh yonder? Alftrude the widow of
+Winge? Oh, aye, it is a pretty woman enough&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And should be rich woman enough," said Grim. "They are watchdogs
+indeed, the brethren of the Moor. I wonder that they let her show her
+nose at Ludford fair&mdash;so little and straight is it that many a man will
+love it, by heaven! My good wife pities Alftrude greatly. She will be
+widow to the end of her days, they ward her about so wilily."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know it, I know it!" wheezed Kenric. "And Ulwin, Alward, and
+Ednoth&mdash;they are three ill men to deal withal. Alack! no hope have I!"
+He summoned up a faint sigh of good-humoured resignation. "If but now
+thou found me grumbling," he explained, "it was at French Richard."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Munulf raked his fingers through his long yellow hair, and looked
+mysterious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have heard cunning talk of late," said he "Men say that these
+outland folk that swarm about our King shall soon be outlanders
+twofold; for shall they not be bundled off, beyond the seas, whither
+they came? Earl Godwin called together his Mickle Gemot seven weeks
+ago. I would we knew how that has sped. Godwin is wont to bring about
+his will!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, my lords, he hath brought it about, the good Earl!" sounded in an
+excited cackle behind them. Hildred the ale-wife hastened to join the
+three speakers, her red face unusually resplendent with pride in being
+foremost retailer of news for that day. "A man of Worcester brought
+great tidings yestereve. Godwin is driving out the accursed Normans,
+every one&mdash;man, woman, child, and priest. Even Ralf our Earl, the
+King's nephew, shall go, though his mother were English Godgifu!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bless the work!" exclaimed Grim. "These Normans have a knack of
+drawing to themselves the wealth that should be ours. There should be
+pickings, eh? for all true Englishmen!" He nudged Kenric, and
+whispered:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"H'st! see where Richard comes!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard the Norman came up to his cattle-pen. He was a small man,
+slightly built, and of upright carriage, and he moved with a spring in
+his gait. He had an aquiline nose, a persistent chin, and a strong,
+exceedingly well-formed mouth; his eyes were dark and deeply-set
+beneath the fine straight line of brow, and they looked straight into
+the eyes of others. His face was clean-shaven like a cleric's, and more
+than ordinarily wrinkled about mouth, eyes, and brow for his age, which
+was a little over thirty; the black hair of his head was cut short at
+the nape of the neck and the top of the forehead. He wore a short tunic
+of dull-coloured cloth, and leather boots, and from his waistbelt hung
+a small, shabby leather bag. Behind him walked his two servants, Howel
+the Welshman, and his own countryman Perot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good day, Thane Kenric," said Richard the Scrob. "Good day, lords
+both, and to you, worshipful Munulf."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ah! Good day, Richard Scrob's son."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Warm weather for November. A very Martin's summer," said Richard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aye," from Grim. "Oh, aye, right warm, this weather. It may become
+hot. It shall soon be hot for all Frenchmen!" he concluded savagely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard seemed unconscious of Grim's words and of their tone. He
+unfastened the bag from his belt, opened it, and surveyed the contents
+complacently. Oswin, the maltman's son, a weak-kneed, loose-lipped
+youth, gave a laboured imitation of the Norman's air of detachment, a
+few yards away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, son," said Munulf, when he had finished guffawing at this
+specimen of his offspring's wit, "what bearest in thy bosom?" pointing
+to the opening at the neck of the lad's jerkin, where a small, dark
+head was seen to writhe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, it is my weasel," Oswin replied. "He harms me not, for I feed him,
+but others he biteth. There are some shall feel his fangs before Holy
+Martin's fair is out, I warrant you, my father!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here are the Moor folk at last. I shall sit down," Kenric announced
+portentously. He withdrew to the customary resort of thanes and great
+men on market-days, on holidays, and at all public functions held upon
+Ludford green&mdash;the huge elm whose boughs cast their shadow as far as
+the cattle-pen of Richard the Scrob. There he subsided upon a bench,
+and sent a serving-woman of the ale-wife's for beer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The green was now crowded with buyers and sellers of every degree. Grim
+and Munulf, who leant upon the hurdles surrounding Richard's exhibits,
+saw the throng before them part to release a procession of two thralls,
+four lean oxen, four women in riding-mantles, and three corpulent men
+who wore the grimy remains of once-fine garments, and had pretentiously
+heavy gold ornaments at their necks and about their wrists and fingers.
+Three of the women were comely and commonplace: the pleasant person of
+the fourth could not have failed to command attention in any
+surroundings. She was young, of moderate height, and generously built;
+she was small-featured, white skinned, blue-eyed, and her lips were
+full and wholesomely red. Over her head and the greater part of her
+figure was a hooded cloak, evidently new, of periwinkle-blue cloth; and
+upon her breast lay her hair in long plaits of that soft shade which is
+not golden, nor brown, nor chestnut, but all three, and has yet an
+ashen-silver haze upon its surface when the sun shines behind it. Her
+gown was black, and much the worse for wear, and at the base of her
+throat gleamed a bunch of the spindle-tree's pink berries, fastened in
+place with a silver pin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good day, or else good morrow, Ulwin," said Grim, scarcely attempting
+to veil the sneer in his voice. "Ye are late with your stock."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Late&mdash;aye!" panted the eldest, fattest, most showily-dressed of the
+newly arrived men. "Aye&mdash;late! All for women&mdash;hindered by women! I ask
+you, fellows, what should women do at fair or market, if they bring not
+wares to sell? Squander good money! Bedizen themselves to the nines!
+Would God that I had let thee from coming forth in thy prideful gear!"
+he snarled at her of the blue mantle. "Did I not say that thou wouldst
+seem no better than a tumbling-girl in the eyes of the folk? Dost thou
+mind that my brother lies in his grave?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard the Scrob's right hand closed upon the hurdle in a convulsive
+grasp.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is five years since he died," said the woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Get behind me, and stay behind me, out of our way," said Ulwin. "See
+here, Alftrude, thou shalt not stir whence I now bid thee stand. I will
+not have thee waste our goods on womanish nothings. Geegaws and sweet
+foodstuffs, forsooth! What lacks the woman? Will she tell the world
+that we clothe her not nor board her?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She made no reply. For a moment she looked him full in the face: there
+was no reproach in her gaze, but only contempt and a spice of derision;
+then she turned and walked calmly, with unflushed cheeks, to join the
+other women in the background, and stood with them. The market-crowd
+surged all about them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"These are thine?" growled Ulwin to Richard, indicating the penned
+oxen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mine they were," answered Richard. "I sold them to Edmund the flesher
+of Worcester this morning, when the fair was but new-begun. But I have
+others, Ulwin Ednoth's son, if ye wish to buy."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Buy! Pah! no, not I! It is not of buying that I have to speak with
+thee, Richard."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Of what then, worthy thane?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed, it is not of buying that I have to speak with thee, Richard.
+Thou art learned in the law: because thou art so learned, the Lord
+Abbot deems thee worthy of his trust; but all thy cleverness could not
+teach thee&hellip;. How can I say, all-wise one, that thou didst not know?
+Well, the Lord Abbot knew not&mdash;aye, even I myself knew not&mdash;that
+Ashford, which thou callest thine, was not holden by us and by our
+father of the Abbot of Leominster, and that therefore neither the Abbot
+nor I might make over this land of Ashford to thee in exchange for &hellip;
+such and so much cattle and silver &hellip; two years ago."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ashford is mine. I have set up a mill there, with the Abbot's
+licence."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not thine, Richard the Scrob. I am Turstin of Wigmore's man for
+Ashford, and I may not go with it to any other lord;<a href="#note15" name="noteref15">
+<small>[15]</small></a> and Turstin is
+wishful to uphold his right. As for thy mill &hellip; well, thou hast made
+it, and there will be the tolls for me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If there be any flaw in our dealings, then is it matter for the moot."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, understand me, thou!" shouted Ulwin, with a pompous gesture of
+the arms and an outward thrust of his swollen underlip. "That which
+thou hast tricked of me I will have again, yea, this day and this hour!
+Ulwin of the Moor is unwonted to waiting!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Then, Ulwin, understand thou that Richard of Overton is unwonted to
+brook such words from any. At the bidding of none do I yield up mine
+own."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Scarcely had Richard proclaimed his defiance than a thrill such as some
+much-desired presence imparts forced him to glance past the wrathful
+bully's left shoulder. The widow Alftrude was now close behind her
+brother-in-law, and studied the Scrob from head to foot with wide,
+wondering blue eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have nowise tricked you, Ednoth's son," said he, his countenance
+once more unperturbed. "Ye did chaffer with me for silver. This is
+matter for the hundredmen. They shall hear and try it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hearken, good neighbours, to the high and mighty words!" Ulwin jeered.
+"How will he speed when Englishmen are met together? Does he dream that
+their dooms are for the French?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Come from here, now, master!" cried the high-pitched voice of
+Richard's servant Howel, in which agitation was patent. Ednoth, Ulwin's
+brother, pushed past Howel and jostled him roughly, in order to draw
+nearer to the two disputants. Howel flung up his head, his eyes
+kindling, and hissed an imprecation under his breath.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hey? what hast thou there?" said Ulwin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nought, nought," Ednoth answered. "It is but a Welshman who bars my
+way."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No Welshman am I!" cried Howel the servant of Richard. "I am a man of
+Irchenfield&mdash;as good an Englishman as any of you here&mdash;and a better
+Englishman, too, than ye clumsy boors that think yourselves noblemen!
+When the King of the English marches with his army into Wales, we men
+of Irchenfield do go the foremost, that we may be the first to deal
+death, and&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Do they dance in Irchenfield?" piped the maltman's son, as he shambled
+out of the crowd and swiftly inserted a furry object between the collar
+of Howel's jerkin and the back of his neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We shall soon see. Oh, merrily, right merrily&mdash;merrier and higher than
+in all Herefordshire else! On, on, brave Welshman! None here can hope
+to beat thee!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Loud was the spectators' laughter as the victim bounced up and down,
+shaking and tossing his limbs, and twisting his head and his body. When
+Richard had succeeded in dragging the weasel from out of his
+serving-man's garments, Howel rushed forward, bent on reprisal. Ednoth,
+the primary cause of the trouble, happened to be the person nearest: in
+a second Howel had him by the throat, and his short knife gleamed bare.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Half a dozen bystanders instantly joined in the fray, most of them for
+the purpose of overwhelming the impudent Welshman of Irchenfield: in
+the midst of the turbulent knot were Ulwin, tugging at Ednoth's
+shoulders, and Richard, who held on to Howel by the arms and so
+compelled him to desist from stabbing at the Englishman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Peace, thou fool!" cried Richard. "Leave be, now, Howel my man! I will
+not be embroiled for idle pride of thine. God's death! put up thy
+dagger!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Sullenly but promptly, Howel allowed his master to lead him out of the
+clutches of his assailants.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Peace, I beg of you, good men," the Norman continued. "We do but
+hinder the many that care not for our meaning. See, yon lady would come
+by!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The crowd had borne Alftrude away from her brother-in-law's side during
+the scuffle: she stood by the booth of a seller of gilded gingerbread,
+the nearest stall to the thanes' elmtree, a coin in one hand and two
+shining half-moons of cake in the other. Distaste and hesitancy were in
+the look she cast upon the brawlers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lady, fear not," said Richard. "If ye would but lean upon my arm&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Eagerly she moved towards him, in bland acceptance of his offer;
+however, before he could approach her, Ulwin had interposed himself,
+thundering:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lay by yon nasty trash! Straight shalt thou wend thee homeward!
+Spendthrift! Shameless woman! Is this a widow's mourning? Is this
+modesty? Come home, I say!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He seized her by the arm, and in so doing trod heavily upon her toes.
+Alftrude's lips contracted, and her eyelids flickered with the pain,
+and she steadied herself against the gingerbread stall. Richard the
+Scrob was now beside them: with the first missile to hand, his own
+money-bag, he struck at the head of Ulwin; and Ulwin reeled and sat
+down upon the ground with a curse and a roar.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Foul clot of dirt!" said Richard. "I will not have thee deal so with
+her!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His money-bag was still in his right hand; but why was it no heavier
+than a strip of pigskin? Where was the reassuring weight to which he
+had grown used throughout that day?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look, look!" the ale-wife screamed. "His ill-gotten silver of itself
+runs from him! Gather, gather, I say&mdash;it is his no more! All these
+French are to be driven forth. Shall he hoard king's coin in our land?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The well-worn bag had burst its seams, and pieces of money strewed the
+muddy ground.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thralls, boys, and children hurled themselves upon them; they
+struggled, fought, kicked and clawed up the mud, laughed ecstatically,
+and rushed about the green, each hugging what he had secured.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The crimson faded from Richard's countenance, and he stood white as
+death and still as a stone. Alftrude hid her face in her hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Up, Ulwin!" exclaimed Ednoth. "Let us drive his cattle to Worcester
+for him&mdash;to Hereford&mdash;or to hell! Down with the Frenchman! Long life to
+Earl Godwin!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From under the elm stepped Ingelric the aged thane of Caynham, his
+beard half-covering his flowing moss-green robe.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No, no, it is unseemly!" he said. "Richard is my friend; he saved me
+once from debt and loss. If any man befriend me&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good folk," stuttered Kenric behind him, "this is more than a game! We
+are not thieves."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But Ednoth and Grim had torn down the hurdles of the pen; the crowd had
+once more concentrated on that spot, and in another instant, shouting
+and shrieking, babbling and cheering, they chased and pelted the cattle
+of Richard the Scrob down Ludford street and out into the open country
+beyond.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alftrude had flung her arms about Ulwin. She seemed in a swoon: no, she
+was not fainting; her cheeks were aglow, and her finger-nails were
+embedded in her brother-in-law's neck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Perot! Howel!" called Richard. "Come on, come on! To me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The English, in their zeal for the dispersal of his cattle, had
+forgotten him. He ran between the outlying houses, followed by his
+servants, and upon the outskirts of the town they came face to face
+with the main body of the rabble, and drew their short swords.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ere ye farther go," said Richard, "ye shall slay me and my men!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They bombarded the three with stones and dirt; a woman threw an egg,
+another hurled her market-basket with uncertain aim.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Tear him limb from limb!" snarled someone. "Surer rid of him so than
+by banishment!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ednoth was advancing upon Richard, sword in hand&hellip;. There was a sudden
+hush, an awestruck murmur.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord Abbot! Lord Abbot!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hold your hands, in the Name of God and of His holy Church!" cried an
+imperious voice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ednoth lowered his sword; the thanes uncovered their heads; many
+cowered, some stared resentfully; some slipped away in the tracks of
+the vanished cattle; the women fell on their knees. From the
+market-place came the Abbot of Leominster upon his fat white nag, with
+his chaplains and his retinue of men-at-arms riding behind him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ednoth of Moor, what would ye?" he demanded, flourishing the parchment
+roll that he carried in his bejewelled right hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wherefore is the market all-to-wrecked? Would ye work murder upon
+harmless Ricardus here?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Lord," said Ednoth, "here is a Frenchman who by craft sucketh the
+wealth from our land. Witanagemot is for putting an end to all such."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Indeed&mdash;and, Ednoth, art thou Witanagemot? Thou art too rash&mdash;ye are
+sadly unbridled, folk of Ludford. Hear the truth from me. There are
+surely many foreigners, Normans of the King's mother's people, who do
+craftily suck the wealth of England, and who bear not themselves truly
+towards blessed Edward our King; and Godwin and his Great Gemot have
+decreed that such shall go forth whither they came and leave the sway
+of England to Englishmen. But are there not some Normans, worthy
+fellows, whom no man could wish ill? Richard who dwells at Overton&mdash;has
+he not lived fifteen years among you, in good repute? In all
+Herefordshire is there no better dealer in corn and cattle: from
+Shrewsbury to Hereford is none more learned in the laws of English and
+of Welsh&mdash;none who can write a fairer hand&mdash;none of readier wit or
+smoother tongue: he hath been great help to me; how shall I spare him?
+Shall they bereave me of Ricardus? said I. I knelt before the King; I
+reasoned with stern Godwin; and ere I left London both had promised me
+my will. Yesterday the sheriff sent to me anent the outgoing of the
+French; and I have ridden since dawn, seeking Ricardus, that I might
+show him how Holy Church rewardeth goodwill for goodwill. Hugolin
+bideth about King Edward, they tell me, and Robert the Staller&mdash;they
+are faithful servants; as for the others, one Dumfrey&mdash;some outlandish
+name!&hellip; Hah! I have the sheriff's writing&hellip;. 'Banished be they all
+beyond seas, but Humfrey's Cocksfoot and Richard the Scrob.'"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard bent to kiss the Abbot's ring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Children, go your ways," the prelate continued, "with our blessing
+upon you. I rede you repent of your rashness. Ye are not robbers and
+rioters&mdash;no, but law-abiding English. Ricardus, come to me to-morrow
+morning: I have much to talk over with thee." So saving, he signed to
+his attendants, and ambled away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My blessing, also, upon thee, worthy friend," a low voice said in
+Richard's ear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was the blue-clad woman. Ulwin, with gashed forehead and scratched
+neck, was shepherding his kinsfolk in the direction of his abode.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ashford shall be mine, O mighty Norman," said he with an exultant
+sneer. "Thy star is set, though abbots smile on thee."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, Ulwin, brother!" exclaimed Alftrude&mdash;"oh, where is my silver
+bodkin? It is gone, Ulwin! And it was my mother's own! Can one have
+snatched it from me?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have ye seen it lying?" asked Richard of a group of persons lately
+come from the green.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What wouldst thou?" said Ulwin to Alftrude. "I bade thee leave the
+thing at home! Come on, thou spitfire&mdash;I will not wait."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Old Ingelric hobbled up, and laid his hand upon Richard's arm.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Have no fear," he said. "Thou art not without friends. Though likely
+thou wilt not see thine oxen again, and who shall trace the coins&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard shook himself free.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The rogue who stole her pin!" he cried&mdash;"I will split his head also!"
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+The grey cob plodded and splashed through the stream of slushy mud and
+half-thawed snow which represented the descending track from Ulwin's
+dwelling of the Moor to the highway between Ludford and Leominster.
+Upon him was Alftrude, closely muffled in a grey felt mantle, and
+beside him, holding the bridle, splashed and floundered a bare-legged
+boy, the bondman's son, with alder-clogs upon his feet. Alftrude rode
+in some discomfort, perched astride upon a man's saddle: her right arm
+supported a big wicker basket. The December sun shone out
+self-assertively: nevertheless the child slapped his free hand
+continually against his thigh, and often blew ruefully upon the fingers
+that clasped the reins. The widow, however, paid no heed to the moist
+chill of the morning air. Every now and again she glanced behind her.
+Once, in the shelter of the grove of hollies, she stopped for a moment
+to listen. There was no sound but the purring of a brook beneath its
+perforated covering of ice. She urged on her stolid steed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As they reached the heath, they heard the scrunch of a horse's hooves
+upon the ground they had just traversed. Alftrude turned her head
+nonchalantly; then she smote the cob such a sudden blow with her whip
+that the boy stumbled, and stared up into his mistress's face, aghast.
+About twenty paces more, and the Norman came up with her, riding alone.
+He would have passed her with "Good day to you, lady!" but she called:
+"Friend, stay awhile!" and he reined in his horse and proceeded beside
+her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Master Richard," said she, "I would thank you meetly, if I could, for
+your great and neighbourly kindness, and beg forgiveness of you for
+that I have not myself done so until now. My mother's pin is the
+dearest of all my few possessions. Tell me, how came it into your
+hands?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If ye be content, madame, I am honoured," said Richard. "It was no
+matter. The maltman's dunderhead son passed it about the ale-house that
+night. They gave it up when I did call for it."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+(This was not true. When Richard had seized the trinket from the thief,
+the ale-house company had fallen on him to a man, and had rolled
+ten-deep upon him about the floor, until their sense of fair-play had
+obliged them to draw off.)
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alftrude was smiling her slow, comfortable smile. Could she&mdash;the gleam
+in her eyes seemed one of admiration&mdash;could she have heard what had
+really befallen?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I was like to weep when I saw it again," said she.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had reached the steepest slope of the hill. Richard the Scrob
+dismounted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I will carry the basket," said he. "And I will lead your horse
+heredown. Let yon lad take mine. Whither make ye?" he continued, when
+the boy had fallen behind with his new charge. "Madame, I think ye
+should not fare abroad by such a slippery road and in such fickle
+weather."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I must to Ludford," she answered. "What think ye of this? There are
+seven young children at home, and in the house no spices nor dried
+grapes to make them Yuletide broth or Yuletide cake, and the housewife
+will not send any for these! Yet our bairns must have their Christmas
+fare like other bairns! so I am for Hildred the ale-wife, who has such
+sweet stuffs to sell." But even as she enlarged upon her purpose, her
+cheeks blushed red.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is shameful!" said he, and his tone was full of warmth. "I like not
+their dealings with you, these kinsmen of your former lord!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Good friend," said Alftrude, "how wilt thou do now? Thy cattle&mdash;thy
+money&mdash;the best of all thy gear! Great thy loss that evil market-day!
+Indeed I am abashed by the folk with whom I dwell!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, I must stint and save, that is all. It will be no new thing&mdash;so
+have I done all the days of my life. When I first came over to join the
+train of Ralf the Earl, I had nothing but two silver pieces, my pen and
+inkhorn, and my wits. That was fifteen years ago&hellip;. They have been
+lonely years in England since Idonea died."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She was your wife?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Idonea was my wife. She was of Bayeux&mdash;daughter of Robert the deacon.
+I had her but two years in this misty island. A short sickness bore her
+off."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Alack, alack! that is piteous!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"She fretted ever for Normandy. I think it was as well she died."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alftrude eyed him gravely, reflectively. Suddenly she shook with silent
+laughter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh! oh!" she cried when she had recovered her voice, in answer to his
+manifest surprise, "ye would have laughed, Son of Scrob, had ye seen a
+sight that mine eyes beheld three nights ago. Know that Ulwin will ever
+have the swine and the fowls to wander in and out of the house, as they
+were mankind, that they may eat up the scraps of food which he throweth
+by among the rushes. Upon that night, my husband's mother and I had
+gone aloft with the maidens, when a mad hubbub arose&mdash;Ulwin shouting,
+threatening, praying&mdash;with such grunts and shrieks besides, ye would
+have thought the Fiend himself was there. We hurried down, and there
+stood my good brother, smiting upon his bed with a flail as strongly as
+his quaking hand would let him&mdash;and the fattest pig tangled in the
+covering of fat Ulwin's bed!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, gladsome sight!" exclaimed Richard. "Ye did work havoc upon that
+same Ulwin that day at the fair? Indeed I think I owe my life to a
+lady's finger-nails!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Ye had avenged his roughness with me," she answered. "And I saw him
+rise to fall upon you."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time they had emerged upon the highroad; and now there passed
+them two nuns riding sleek mules, and two serving-men, mounted also.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There goes Burghild of Caynham," said Alftrude. "It is now five years
+since she took her holy oaths. I would not be she for all the
+world&mdash;though, heaven wot! a nun's life is a peaceful life!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is peace to be found where no nuns are, lady."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Know ye her story, Richard Scrob's son? She is the thane of Caynham's
+daughter, and Godric the brother of Athelstane of Berrington loved her
+dearly, and she him. But his lands were small and barren, and he could
+offer her no fitting home, or so he thought. He would take service with
+some great lord, and store what wealth the saints might send him, that
+he might make yon maiden his wife. They met twice or thrice in the
+year, and I am sure each read the other's mind; but he never told her
+of his love and of his hopes. And she pined for him, and grew pale, and
+tart of mood. Godric went out with Earl Sweyn against the Welsh king,
+and was slain by the Welshmen. When Burghild heard these tidings, she
+fell sick of sorrow, even nigh unto death; but she is brave; she clung
+to life, and now she is the Church's bride. Oh, sad that lack of goods
+should sunder two true hearts!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"How could he speak, being a man without wealth?" said Richard. "He
+might not speak." He would not look at her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"He should have spoken," said Alftrude softly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, as for these swine indeed, thy kinsmen&mdash;&mdash;" cried he&hellip;. "Pardon
+my rough speech, Lady Alftrude; but I have marked how they treat
+you&mdash;you who were their brother's wife&mdash;better born than they, and
+better nurtured. As the dirt underfoot! Must ye abide beneath their
+roof? Is there none other with whom ye might dwell?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My brother is a thane about the King's court. I have not set eyes on
+him for many a year. I have no other brother and no sister."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is many a day since I have wondered how ye bore with them."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Since ye press me, Richard, I will own that my lot is hard. I have
+been widowed these five years. Since Winge my husband died, the land
+and goods with which he left me&mdash;aye, and mine own goods which I
+brought him&mdash;I may not call mine own. The first they till and order as
+they will, and the yield thereof they put with the yield of their land.
+As for the goods, they all lay hands upon them with never a 'by your
+leave' to me! Ulwin would have sold my mirror of steel last week, but I
+hid it&hellip;. Richard Scrob's son, there are two of thine oxen among the
+cattle at the Moor. At least, I am sure I saw them at Martin's Fair
+within thy pen."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let them be. I have enemies enough at this time. To claim your goods!
+To sell your mirror!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They grudge me this my new cloak," Alftrude continued, drawing a fold
+of periwinkle blue from beneath her winter wrapping. "True, it is not
+of my weaving; but mine own corn did I sell to buy the cloth. I believe
+they grudge me my mother's own jewels! Ulwin, and Alward, and Ednoth,
+and their mother, and the wives of the three. There would be no
+pleasure for any but Ulwin, if he could have his way: others must
+scrape and lack for him. A bad husbandman, too, is Ulwin. Men will give
+him but little for his crops and cattle. And that little leaves his
+poke that he may feast and game, and bet on sparring-cocks. But I think
+the women are the worst to dwell with."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"And the housewife&mdash;your husband's mother? Has she no kindness for
+thee, who wert wife to her son?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We were childless, Winge and I."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"By holy Stephen! it is a weary life ye tell me of!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am well wonted to such weariness. I am four and twenty. A great age,
+Richard."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Madame, I am thirty-two, and I think that the sweetest of my life is
+yet before me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is Ludford. Now, God speed you, lord," said she, holding out her
+hand to him. The next instant she withdrew it in confusion, exclaiming:
+"I know not why I clepe you lord!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know," said Richard, and took her hand. "Alftrude, I will see to it
+that thou become a very great lady."
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+From the thicket bordering the pathway proceeded gasping, panting,
+maudlin complaints, and thickly-uttered curses; then came the sound of
+a feeble struggle as though a heavy body strove vainly to extricate
+itself from glutinous, liquescent soil. Richard the Scrob got down from
+his horse, handed the reins to Perot, who walked beside him, and strode
+in among the alders. The light of the sinking moon revealed a man lying
+face downwards, his legs submerged in a marshy pool, his hands clinging
+to a tuft of rushes. Having chosen a firm foothold, Richard seized the
+unfortunate by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him on to more or
+less solid ground. The bloated visage, streaming with mud, was just
+recognizable as that of Ulwin of the Moor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Oh, oh&mdash;ah&mdash;oh!" he blubbered. "I am a dead man! Drowned dead&mdash;frozen
+to the inwards! One had bewitched the accursed nag that she might throw
+me!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard heard a horse cropping the wet fern a little distance away. He
+captured the offending animal without difficulty, and gave it into the
+care of his servant. Then he approached Ulwin once more, and took him
+by the arm in order to help him to his feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Dost thou dare?" cried the Englishman, striking aimlessly in the
+direction of his rescuer's chin. "I have no gold upon me&mdash;nought upon
+me! Murder! Murder by our lord the King's highway! Fellow, I am a
+thane, and my wergild a thane's wergild&mdash;twelve hundred shillings
+worth!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No robber am I. Ulwin, I am Richard of Overton. Ye have known me this
+many a year&mdash;I am Richard the Scrob."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Scrob? Scrob? Eh, what is Scrob?" said the thane of the Moor. "Oh,
+aye&mdash;I mind&mdash;thou art the Frenchman&mdash;Richard&mdash;neighbour Richard. Well,
+Richard, my old nag tossed me off&mdash;bewitched is she, the jade! And
+Alward and Ednoth and the others&mdash;to hell with them for selfish churls!
+they rode on and left me here&mdash;would not wait for me&mdash;rode on and left
+me lying here&hellip;. I called&mdash;I called! Wending home from Wigmore&hellip;.
+Cakes and ale had we&mdash;good eating and drinking at Wigmore, Richard&hellip;.
+Left me here to drown! What think ye of that?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Belike they missed thee not!" replied the other grimly. "Here is your
+horse. Try to get upon her. I think your bones are whole."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Ulwin remained sitting in the mud.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wa&mdash;la! wa&mdash;la!" He was weeping again now. "Wa-la-la and woe the day!
+Beggared am I and all undone! They set two worthy cocks to fight&hellip;.
+Oh, a fair sight to see them at war! When all around would wager upon
+them, how might I not do likewise? One hundred shillings have I lost to
+the men of Wigmore! And, Richard, I am burdened with debt: one hundred
+and forty shillings in all do I owe among my neighbours. I must sell
+myself into thralldom&mdash;my wife&mdash;my hapless bairns! Let me flee the
+shire&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard brought a leather wallet from beneath his mantle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"No need," said he. "See here," and he unfastened the string which
+closed the wallet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What?" shouted Ulwin, scrambling to his knees. "Money? Money? How
+comest thou by money? Art surely a sorcerer&mdash;a warlock&mdash;leagued with
+Satan and all his devils! Why, it is not three years since we&mdash;since
+thy cattle was driven loose and thy silver scattered and lost beneath
+the feet of Ludford folk!&hellip; Richard Scrob's son&mdash;good neighbour&mdash;&mdash;"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, cease thy whimpering of a dog, Ulwin of Moor, if man thou be,"
+said Richard. "Shalt not sell thyself for debt. One hundred and forty
+shillings&mdash;such shalt thou borrow of me&hellip;. Nay, not now. At thine own
+dwelling, in the afternoon&hellip;. Give me Alftrude thy brother's widow to
+wife: that she will have me I know well. Half thy brother's
+morning-gift to her of land shalt thou keep; and if within ten years
+from this day thou owe me still that which I do pledge me here and now
+to lend thee, I will take again Ashford and its mill. They were truly
+holden of the Abbot, all the time."
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+"So they have crowned French William at Westminster?" said Ulwin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Aye, so was I told by one of Harold's men who came alive through
+Senlac slaughter," Grim replied. "This William is a stark man, they
+say; but he has sworn to abide by our old laws."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The men of mark were gathered about Ludford elm. It was a warm, misty
+day in February. There was a fair upon the green for the sale of
+chickens, ducks, and geese.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I do think that these be lying tidings," said Tori the priest of
+Ludford. "Two kings dead within a year, and English and Welsh at peace
+in Herefordshire! I will believe there is such a William when I have
+set eyes upon him, and in the deaths of kings when I see kings lying
+dead. I am a stickler for the good old ways: I do not waste my prayers
+upon an unknown outlander, but beseech heaven for Edward and for his
+Lady as I have been wont all the days of my life!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Under seven kings have I dwelt," Ingelric the ancient murmured
+dreamily. "First Ethelred, then Sweyn, then Canute. Canute was a Dane,
+but a better man than Ethelred. Then Harefoot, then Hardicanute, then
+Edward whom they call the Blessed. Well, well, peace to his soul! There
+were no more righteous folk in England after his crowning than before.
+And so the son of Godwin is cast down and slain! It is a little thing,
+children, where or of whom a king be born, if so be he govern strongly
+and wisely."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Now, Childe Edric, what say ye to this?" cried Ulwin of the Moor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Father Ingelric, ye know that my mind is quite other," said a hoarse,
+far-carrying voice. The speaker, a weather-tanned young man, with
+bright grey eyes and a resolute chin, bent towards Ulwin and whispered:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The poor old man&mdash;he doteth!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"A fair tide for the ploughing," Kenric's elephantine tact prompted him
+to observe. "I think there will be no more frost nor snow."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We have one Norman here," said Ulwin to Edric. "Spared when the others
+were banished, through the might of the greedy Abbot. He has the
+Fiend's own luck. Frost and snow! I would the earth were ice-bound for
+his sake! I would the frost would shatter his plough-shares! I would he
+might drop dead as doth a sparrow!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Richard is a good fellow," Ingelric interjected stubbornly. "And one
+king is much as another king."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Is it nothing to you all," cried Edric the Wild, "that England shall
+be no more England, but Normandy? What of Harold, our King and our Earl
+of late, and his bloody end? Must we all bow to the robber, because the
+men of the South loved their harvest-beer better than their
+motherland?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We are free English!" said one; and another: "What shall we do?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"We have our hills and our woodlands," Edric continued. "When William
+sends his warriors amongst us, we will lead them jack-o'-lantern's
+dance, and utterly undo them. My men are all armed and ready to come
+forth whensoever I bid them; and I have the word of the Welsh lords
+that they will give us help."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"If Howel of Irchenfield were here," Kenric remarked ruminatively, "he
+would tell you to put no trust in the word of a Welshman. And Howel is
+right: they do never cleave to us, though time and again have they
+sworn faith and truth unto our kings. And I have not seen Howel this
+day&hellip;."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Howel, Richard's man, say ye?" panted the ale-wife, as she deposited
+mugs of beer before two of her customers. "Howel passed the ford three
+weeks ago, or nearer four. I know not whither he went."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Richard also crossed over this day at dawn," said Munulf the maltman,
+"and with him his firstborn boy. They took the road to Stretton."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hey? it is not like Richard to miss the fair," said Ulwin. "I see
+bondmen of his who watch his wares."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"But not the goodwife?" said Kenric. "How not? She loves the mirth of
+the market."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Why, he liketh not that Alftrude bestir herself overmuch, or rub
+shoulders with all and sundry," answered Ulwin contemptuously. "Treats
+her as she were the Mother of God herself, or a queen at the least. And
+they have been wed eleven years!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I met some of his men yesterday upon the heath," said Grim, "all
+mud-bespattered and outworn. What hath he now in hand, Ulwin?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Pah! who can tell? He hath fetched a swarm of accursed
+foreigners&mdash;smiths and wrights&mdash;from overseas, and he must keep them
+busy. There is ever some new-fangled hewing or digging. He set a
+yew-hedge in the fall, ye know; and they say he will have a fish-pond."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Here is friend Richard," said Ingelric, "and the little lad also."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard appeared upon the green, on horseback, accompanied by his son
+Osbern, aged ten, who rode a pony. Having tethered their mounts to two
+of a row of posts beside the ale-house door, they made their way to the
+elm-tree. The years had been generous towards Richard the Scrob. He was
+better clothed and shod than formerly, more serene, less spare. Osbern,
+the eldest of his children, had his father's firm mouth and his
+mother's clear blue eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Greeting," said Ulwin, with an uneasy leer. "We talk of thee,
+neighbour, as a great man and a wealthy. Shouldst thank me for Alftrude
+and what she brought thee, which latter did surely set thee on thy
+feet."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Nay, Ulwin, surely I did set thee once upon thy feet, with timely
+loan. Hast thou forgotten, also, that I have had no answer from thee to
+a question I put to thee above a year and four months ago?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What mean ye? Say all that ye mean aloud, in the ears of these thanes,
+and let them judge between thee and me!" Ulwin's brain was slow, but he
+rightly guessed that an explicit reply would follow, for Richard's love
+of litigation was notorious.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou knowest that I speak of Ashford, which wrongfully thou keepest
+from me, and of the hundred and forty shillings which thou borrowedst."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou knowest, and all here know, that Ashford is mine, holden of
+Turstin as lord," said Ulwin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Turstin is not lord of that land; the Abbot is lord thereof indeed,
+and by the Abbot's leave did it pass from thee to me. And I did pay thy
+gaming-losses; and thou gavest me Alftrude my dear wife, and half of
+the land she had as thy brother's widow. I did swear to let thee be in
+Ashford for ten years, and thou to give it up to me when ten years were
+run, or to repay me the sum of my lending in gold."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Not so," said Ulwin. "I agreed with thee for Alftrude and half of her
+morning-gift from Winge. Why should she take more with her when she
+went from us to wed a needy foreigner?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I have thy mark which thou settedst to the bond I wrote."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I made no mark. I saw no bond."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"There is Ednoth's mark thereon, beneath thine own."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Say, brother Ednoth, have I pledged all this to Richard the Scrob by
+tongue or by pen?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I know nought of it," answered Ednoth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard thrust his hands into his belt. The faintest possible shadow of
+a smile lurked at the corners of his lips. For a second his glance
+wandered absently to the rocky hill of Lude<a href="#note16" name="noteref16">
+<small>[16]</small></a> which towered above
+Ludford on the farther bank of the Teme where that river turned
+northward to join the Corve, and for a fraction of a second rested upon
+the narrow track straggling round the southern side of the hill and
+descending steeply to the ford.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Bring witnesses to my mark and Ednoth's!" cried Ulwin with a gobbling
+laugh. "Bring witnesses to the Abbot's right! The hundredmen will laugh
+thee to scorn. This Richard is a liar, friends: guilt hath sapped his
+boldness, or wealth and good-living, belike; he who was wont to be so
+ready with his fists now quails before an Englishman. What, dost thou
+smile? Aha, thou thinkest on the Frenchman at Westminster! What deemest
+thou we shall make of thy Duke?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What ye will, I doubt not," said Richard. "I am for law and order." He
+seated himself upon a root of the elm, and leant against the trunk.
+Every now and again he scanned what could be seen of the winding road
+about the hill of Lude.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hear me once more," said Edric the Wild. "Ye should make ready against
+aught that may befall while these your fruitful acres are your own and
+all unscathed. The tyrant hath left his spoor of fire and steel from
+the South Saxon land to London town&hellip;. Why, Gunwert of Mereston! What
+tidings? Steady, man&mdash;drink first, speak after!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A weary, speechless man dropped from his horse to Edric's feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They come!" he gasped, when he had swallowed a mouthful of beer.
+"Sighted beyond Stretton&hellip;. From Shrewsbury &hellip; in their
+hundreds&mdash;fully armed!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard, deep in the shadow of the tree, took the boy Osbern's hand and
+drew him down beside him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hasten, all!" shouted Edric, quivering with eagerness. "To every
+homestead where be weapons&mdash;tools&mdash;what ye can find! Hasten, hasten!
+Ride&mdash;gather your men together! We will beat them back at the ford."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All were on their feet, all running&mdash;every thane, every churl, every
+thrall. Some dashed into houses and sheds, and bore thence sickles,
+scythes, axes, picks, shovels, and mattocks, and ancient rust-caked
+weapons; some seized the horses tethered by the ale-house door and
+sprang upon them. Richard, still holding Osbern by the hand, entered
+the town in the midst of the first contingent of those who remained on
+foot.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"They have taken our horses," he whispered. "Silence now&mdash;we must not
+move nor breathe!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The maltman's barn opened on to Ludford Street, and they slipped within
+and hid between the outer wall and a rampart of odorous sacks. Edric
+drove the whole body of his compatriots out into the open. After a
+quick consultation with Ingelric, he set off with the old man on the
+shortest route to Caynham. Some made towards Ashford, some towards the
+Moor. A few splashed through the ford over which the grey waters of the
+Teme glided in their winter flood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+An hour passed; another hour; the second hour after noon began. Richard
+was still in the maltman's storehouse, scarcely stirring from the post
+he had originally taken up, listening intently to every sound that
+penetrated from without. Osbern had perched himself upon a sack by his
+father's side, as motionless except for his fingers, about which he
+twined a piece of string in cat's cradle pattern. The voices of women
+reached them, the laughter of children, the swirl of water among the
+roots of the willows. Falling cobwebs powdered these two with dingy
+flakes; conflicting currents of air made the malt-dust dance all around
+them; they heard the patter of rats' feet, the dogged gnawing of a
+mouse. Suddenly a woman shrieked in terror&mdash;&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Yonder&mdash;see yonder! Horsemen! horsemen! Yonder the death of us all! My
+man&mdash;where is he? Gone&mdash;left me here helpless! The Frenchmen! The
+Frenchmen!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Panic seized the women of Ludford (there were some twenty of them):
+tearful, voluble, or outwardly composed, they carried, dragged, drove
+their children up the street, across the green, and out of the town, in
+frantic search of masculine protection.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Richard and Osbern stepped stiffly out into the street, brushing their
+garments as they went. Yes, there they were, the horsemen, filing along
+the hill-side track. The apathetic sun of late winter lent a sulky
+radiance to lance, mace, and scabbard, ringed hauberk, conical helm,
+and kite-shaped shield. Nearer they came&mdash;sixty in all, Richard
+guessed. The cavalcade appeared at the farther end of the street:
+men-at-arms, pursuivants, knights, esquires, and, behind his banner,
+riding alone, William fitzOsbern, Earl of Hereford and Lord of
+Breteuil, in the full splendour of vigorous manhood.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Seignior!" cried Richard the Norman&mdash;"Seignior, faictes grace a moy,
+qui suys de vostre sang!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+William fitzOsbern threw an amused glance at a forgotten cobweb that
+adhered to the speaker's head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Mort Dex!" said he. "Whom have we here?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Richard of Overton, son of Hugh, son of Osbern, son of Walter of Rye
+in the Cotentin, where my nephew is now lord. Sir Count, the mother of
+my grandsire was cousin and nurse unto Herfast your own father's
+father, and unto noble Dame Gunnore his sister, spouse of our then
+Duke."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou art the Scrope. I have heard of thee. One named Perot spoke of
+thee with the King at Westminster; and that British fellow of
+thine&mdash;Howel they call him&mdash;guides the company of Ralph de Mortemar
+behind us upon the road. I have pressed on with another to conduct me,
+for I would reach the city of Hereford as soon as may be."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Seignior, I have dwelt for twenty years within your county that now
+is," said Richard, dropping on one knee, "and I pray of you justice and
+your puissant aid! The rascal English do me wrong, and they will not
+consider my cause, for I stand alone. One Ulwin invades certain of my
+lands and a mill which I myself set up beside the river: he first
+exchanged this Ashford for money and cattle of mine, then pleaded his
+no-right to sell."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He paused. FitzOsbern had half-turned in his saddle and was surveying
+the rugged hill of Lude upon the other side of the ford.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What a rock of defence!" he exclaimed. "Careless fools to let it stand
+unfortified!&hellip; Well, I did look for thee to come to greet us; but
+alone? and&mdash;toil-stained, is it? I have seen no rascal English
+hereabouts. This seems a village dead or sleeping. Are ye the only
+persons here alive, thou and one child?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"News of your coming has reached these English, my lord, and they
+believe that your purpose is to spoil their homesteads, and so they are
+gone without into the country, gathering together all able men for
+resistance. Wild Edric of Clun was here but now, at work upon their
+fears. Though they be mostly on foot, and their weapons be rusty, they
+are more than we, and might bar your road to Hereford. Come with me, I
+pray you: on yonder hill I have a strong house, where ye, aye, and all
+these, may be safe."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Joyously will we partake of thine hospitality, good Richard, for an
+hour or so, although our march be thereby delayed. Thy Howel, I know,
+will lead Ralph de Mortemar to thy very door. Say, who is the lad? Son
+of thine, I wager."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"My eldest son, so please you. Osbern, stand forth."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Hah! Osbern fitzRichard, how sayest thou?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Wilt thou serve my lady in bower and at board until such time as thou
+be old enough to ride with me into battle?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Assurement, mon seignior!" replied the child, upon his knee beside his
+father in a moment. His French had the thick accent of an Englishman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+FitzOsbern smiled down upon him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Shalt learn more gracious French," said he, "but not more gracious
+manners. Well, let us be going."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Seignior," said one of the esquires, "I hear the tramp of many feet,
+but no voices at all."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The English!" cried William, and Richard the Scrob sprang to his feet.
+"They think to surprise us. It were best parley with them in the open,
+in peaceable guise. Boy, I will carry thee behind me."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Osbern clambered on to the Earl's steed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Sir, have I your leave?" asked Richard of Sir Walter de Lacy, who rode
+on the left of his master. Lacy nodded, and instantly Richard was
+astride behind him. He had scarcely mounted, when a strange, seething
+hiss resounded from one side of the street, and above their heads.
+Another hiss, and another: a splutter, then a crackle; and the thatch
+of the maltman's dwelling, which adjoined his barn, burst into
+steadily-spreading flame.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"O Mary! happy thought!" they heard in the fatuous tones of the
+maltman's son Oswin. "Hem them right well about, and watch them cook
+alive!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thank God for burning pitch!" and in the indignant voice of Grim:
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Thou oaf! Would thou had been born dumb! We had them snared!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A horse neighed shrilly; the other horses echoed the warning sound.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Quick, ere terror benumb them!" the Earl shouted. "Right about&mdash;a dash
+for it!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A bucketful of hot pitch streamed from one roof, hot charcoal cinders
+showered from another; some one flung a lighted torch. Another thatch
+was already on fire. The English were formed in a thin ring all round
+Ludford. The Norman charge scattered those at the bottom of the street,
+and the horsemen poured out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Follow me!" cried Richard. "I know a way to baffle them. Ride,
+sirs&mdash;ride as ye were devils!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Edric of Clun, on horseback, planted himself in fitzOsbern's way with
+menacing gesture; William hurled his truncheon, hit him on the head,
+and sent him tumbling from his saddle. Ednoth clung like a vice to
+Richard's legs for some yards, and was thrown to the ground, and
+trampled by many hurrying hooves. The few mounted English tried
+valiantly to intercept the trained cavalry, but were unhorsed or put to
+flight.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"To Richard's hall!" shouted Ulwin, from the background, where he was
+making tentative passes in the air with an antique sword. "Overton!
+Overton! Fire! Burn! Torches, I say&mdash;bring torches! Come on, all of
+you! Come, burn his house to the ground!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Earl and his men had rallied to Richard the Scrob, who called and
+signalled to them from Walter de Lacy's crupper. He headed straight for
+the forest of Haye.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Warily now," said he. "There is much bogland."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He led them westward, skirting swamps, threading apparently
+impenetrable thickets, with scarcely a pause. They could hear faintly
+the voices of a few Englishmen who cursed as they wandered among the
+briary undergrowth. The hindmost of the Normans looked back and saw
+Ludford flaming, crumbling, and falling into ruins.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It is mine own secret path," their guide announced. "Verily, mon
+seignior, I have prepared for your coming."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They left the forest behind them, and rode through the hamlet of
+Overton.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Look yonder!" said Richard, pointing to the grey gleam of a stone
+rampart among the trees surrounding his mansion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"What is this?" laughed the Earl. "Have ye licence from King William to
+erect a castle within his realm?"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"I am King William's loyal subject," the Scrob replied. "Of a
+certainty, our King will not grudge a timely shelter to his Earl."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A curtain-wall, roughly but strongly compacted of quarried stone, of
+wood, and of rubble, surrounded and concealed the timber dwelling of
+Richard and Alftrude; at the western end of the enclosure the
+unfinished keep loomed upon its mount; and about them both an
+eight-foot moat was drawn.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"The keep as well!" cried fitzOsbern. "Oh, guileful notion, to colour
+it with pitch! Only the hawk-eyed may spy it from the valley, for the
+foliage embowers it&mdash;and, man, ye can surely keep watch therefrom for
+many a mile!"
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At a blast from Richard's horn, the drawbridge was lowered, and several
+Normans in his service appeared upon the threshold, mail-clad and fully
+armed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"It was four weeks building, under Geoffrey of Rouen," said Richard,
+"and the moat was digging thirteen days more. I have engines of war
+within, and great store of missiles of stone. Enter, bel sire. They
+will not find it easy to burn this my dwelling about my head."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"Let the peasants come!" said William fitzOsbern. "They must learn to
+know their masters; but please the saints! we shall not need to take
+the lives of many. Perchance the sweet peers of heaven may send that
+Mortemar find us before long&hellip;. Cousin, thou hast a pleasant view from
+thy fortress, even through such a narrow peephole. H'm! Rich
+forfeitures for our sovereign Lord! Thou shalt trouble thyself no more,
+cousin Richard, concerning lands and mills and cheating Saxons. As far
+and as wide as eye can see, from the sky that is our Lord God's
+footstool unto Satan's fires in the centre of earth, this same pleasant
+country shall be thine own, in reward for this day's fealty and
+service, and so I, William of Hereford and Breteuil, promise thee in
+the name of the King&hellip;. Nay, no thanks: kneel but one moment
+longer&hellip;. It is meet, sirs, is it not, that our leader in this
+engagement should hold the honourable rank of chevalier? We will
+account this a field of battle. Rise up, Sir Richard fitzHugh le
+Scrope!"
+</p>
+
+<br>
+
+<p>
+The next morning, when the Earl of Hereford had gone his way, and the
+bodies of the only two Englishmen slain by Ralph de Mortemar's rescuing
+party had been borne to burial, the new lord of the Moor, of Ashford,
+of Ludford, and of Stanage rode out to display the extent and resources
+of his manors to his astonished lady. Their itinerary ended, they stood
+in the evening outside the moat and gazed at the placid, billowing
+country beneath them. Although by the cold, saffron light of a February
+sunset the misty course of the Teme was the only certain landmark and
+it was hard to distinguish meadow and ploughland, pasture and forest,
+they had to feast their eyes until the last glimmer faded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+"With right tillage," said Richard, "it should yield me thrice its
+yearly value in grain. And I will have yet more sheep, and yet more
+cattle: there is now place for four times as many as ever I bred&hellip;. I
+have made thee great and famous, as I promised; and Osbern, with the
+Earl to favour him, should be an even greater lord than I&hellip;. Our
+fishpond shall go forward upon the morrow. What sayest thou to an
+orchard yonder, planted with apples of Normandy? and I think that
+Gascon vines would ripen passably upon our southern slope. O Alftrude,
+thou knowest how I have loved and pondered this land this many a year;
+and we shall have great profit of it, ma belle, thou and I together."
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Alftrude dwelt at Richard's Castle well content; for, as she sometimes
+observed when she looked round upon her flocks, her herds and her
+horses, her orchards, her cornfields, her vineyards, her chickens,
+ducks and geese, her hounds and her falcons, her fishpond, her smooth
+green lawn, her yew-tree alley, her doves and her peacocks, and her
+band of healthy children, there was no reason at all why she should not.
+</p>
+
+<hr class="med">
+
+<p class="ctr">
+<b>Footnotes</b>
+</p>
+
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note1">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref1">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[1]</small></a> Imperator.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note2">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref2">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[2]</small></a> Ceridwen.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note3">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref3">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[3]</small></a> Supposedly so called from his Goidelic accent in speaking
+British.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note4">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref4">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[4]</small></a> Celtic priests, from their form of tonsure.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note5">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref5">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[5]</small></a> Gwrtheyrn had Taliesin's mystical account of his
+incarnations in mind.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note6">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref6">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[6]</small></a> In sign of dedication.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note7">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref7">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[7]</small></a> Glastonbury.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note8">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref8">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[8]</small></a> Villeins.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note9">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref9">&nbsp;&nbsp;<small>[9]</small></a> The great mullein.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note10">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref10"><small>[10]</small></a> David. Cynyr uses the third person singular of courtesy.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note11">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref11"><small>[11]</small></a> St. Aidan, bishop of Ferns.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note12">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref12"><small>[12]</small></a> Walnuts.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note13">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref13"><small>[13]</small></a> Ismael succeeded David as Bishop of Mynyw.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note14">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref14"><small>[14]</small></a> Pavia.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note15">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref15"><small>[15]</small></a> He could not sell or convey it.
+</p>
+
+<p class="foot">
+<a name="note16">&nbsp;</a>
+<a href="#noteref16"><small>[16]</small></a> Now Ludlow.
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Star of Mercia, by Blanche Devereux
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Star of Mercia, by Blanche Devereux
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Star of Mercia
+       Historical Tales of Wales and the Marches
+
+Author: Blanche Devereux
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2012 [EBook #39903]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAR OF MERCIA ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by sp1nd and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  Star of Mercia
+
+  Historical Tales of Wales and the
+  Marches _by_ Blanche Devereux
+
+
+  _With an Introduction by_ Ernest Rhys
+
+
+  Jonathan Cape
+  Eleven Gower Street, London
+
+
+  _First published 1922
+  All rights reserved_
+
+  _Printed in Great Britain by_ Butler & Tanner, _Frome and London_
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+There are three reading-publics to which a tale-writer who attempts the
+uncertain business of writing about Wales may appeal. One is the
+homebred Welsh public that asks for a tale in the old tongue, _yr hen
+iaith_, and has never been quite satisfied, I believe, by any novel or
+short story about its life, or its real or romantic concerns, written
+in English. The second is the quasi-Celtic public, which may or may
+not know the _Mabinogion_ or Borrow's _Wild Wales_, and is glad of
+anything that gets the romance atmosphere. The third is the ordinary
+fiction-loving English public, which asks for a good story, rather
+likes a Welsh background as in Blackmore's _Maid of Sker_ (a much
+better book than _Lorna Doone_ to my mind), and does not trouble about
+the fidelity of the local colour in the reality of the setting. It is
+from the second and third of these audiences that Miss Devereux can
+look to gain her "creel-full of listeners," as the story of _The Yellow
+Hag_ has it.
+
+She has, to begin with, the genuine tale-teller's power of using a
+motive, a bit of legend, or a proverbial and stated episode, and giving
+it fresh life and something original out of her own fantasy. In her way
+of narrative, she does not adopt any rigorous ancientry. She has a
+sporting sense in dealing with an archaic character like _Mogneid_,
+and is satisfied to see him hammer at a door with the butt of his
+riding-whip. She will make _Gildas_ and _St. David_ or _Dewi Sant_,
+collogue as they never did in the old time before us; and devise a
+comedy and a drunkard's tragedy of her own for a wicked old sinner like
+King _Gwrthyrn_, just as she mixes chalk and charcoal freely in the
+Saxon cartoons that follow the Welsh. The important thing is, she makes
+her people live, and by the bold infusion of the same old human nature
+with prehistoric Welsh and old chronicler's English, she succeeds in
+creating a region of her own. It is not literally Cymric or Saxon; but
+it is instinct with the fears, loves, hopes and appetites that never
+decay, and realizes alike the drunkard's glut and the saint's mixed
+piety and shrewd sense.
+
+In her story of _Saint David_ she has gone to the old "Lives" and the
+documents for some of her colour. There are passages that may terrify
+the modern reader, who has no Welsh and does not know how to pronounce
+_Amherawdwr_ (the Welsh form of imperator or emperor), _Dyfnwal_,
+_Llywel_ or _Cynyr_. The average English reader who is brought up on
+soft and sibilant C's and i-sounding Y's will probably end by turning
+the last name into "sinner" in vain compromise. And possibly Miss
+Devereux is too hard on the average un-Celtic reader; for though she
+turns _Gwy_ into Wye, she retains _Dyfi_ for Dovey. But these are the
+pleasant little inconsistencies that exist in every English writer,
+from Shakespeare and Ben Jonson to Sir Walter Scott and George
+Meredith, who has attacked the impregnable old fortress of the British
+tongue.
+
+It is interesting to compare the two tales of wilder Wales with those
+of Mercia and Saxondom that succeed them in this mixed story-book. The
+first are realized almost entirely, you will discover, from the man's
+point of view. The Saxon tales are more intimately felt, and realized
+from the woman's dramatic angle. It is avowedly so in the chronicle of
+Winifred, Ebba's daughter, telling the grim love-story of Earl Sweyn
+the Nithing and Algive. This is in texture, and reality of presentment,
+maintaining the pseudo-archaic mode with just the faintest reminder of
+the modern tale-teller pulling the puppet-strings, on the whole the
+completest of all these new-old tales. In the portrait of Algive,
+tenderly and joyously painted, there is a faint reminiscence of a
+Celtic romance-heroine like Olwen (in the _Mabinogion_), which adds to
+the charm. And in other ways it will be found by the story-loving and
+unprejudiced reader, who reads for the pleasure of the thing, and not
+for criticism or edification, that these _Tales of Two Regions_ gain by
+carrying over at times the atmosphere of the one--never so lightly
+indicated--into the actual presentment of the other.
+
+ERNEST RHYS.
+
+1922.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                          PAGE
+
+INTRODUCTION                                 5
+
+GWRTHEYRN THE DRUNKARD                      11
+
+DEWI SANT                                   35
+
+STAR OF MERCIA                              65
+
+EARL SWEYN THE NITHING                      86
+
+EDITH'S WELL                               109
+
+RICHARD THE SCROB                          120
+
+
+
+
+Gwrtheyrn the Drunkard
+
+"_Vortigern of repulsive lips, who, drunken, gave up the Isle of Thanet
+to Hengist._"
+
+--WELSH TRIADS.
+
+
+Mogneid son of Votecori tapped upon the lintel of the open doorway and
+called "Ho, there! Is there refreshment for wayfarers?" From within
+came a luxurious sound of snoring. Mogneid muttered a curse, and began
+to hammer impatiently with the butt of his riding-whip. The father of
+the household coughed, rolled heavily from his bed of rushes, and
+appeared at the door--an old man, blinking with sleep, but collected
+and courteous.
+
+"What, lord?" said he. "There is tired you are now! How may I serve
+you? Please you share the shelter of my roof till evening!"
+
+"Nay, not so," Mogneid replied, "I am in haste to reach my journey's
+end. Give us to drink, sir, I pray you--beer, milk, or water--what you
+will--anything! We are dried up with this dust! And tell me, if you
+can, how far hence dwells Gwrtheyrn the King?"
+
+Without waiting to answer, the old man hobbled away, and returned a few
+minutes later with a big stone pitcher and two little cups of horn.
+
+"Alack, my friend," he grumbled, "they have taken all the beer. They
+are all gone to mow the hay, look you, my son and the women! and I am
+left to milk the cows and tend the livestock. Sore thing it is that old
+age comes so soon! Well, lord, if ye will not stay to cleanse your feet
+and enter my dwelling, let us at least converse in the shade. Here is
+new milk, that quenches thirst." He led Mogneid and his four
+serving-men beneath the boughs of a great hawthorn-tree, the only
+ornament of his straw-littered, pig-frequented entrance-yard.
+
+"Seek ye King Gwrtheyrn?"
+
+He dropped thankfully on to a low seat surrounding the tree trunk, and
+Mogneid sat down beside him, quaffed at the creamy liquor, and wiped
+the dust and sweat from his countenance. The traveller was a
+middle-aged man, thin and muscular, with a dark grizzled beard, and
+vague-looking light blue eyes that missed sight of nothing that went on
+around him. Upon the backs of his hands was tattooed a mystic design of
+circles interlaced.
+
+"I am from the land of Dyfed, reverend sir," he answered, "and I travel
+to the court of Gwrtheyrn son of Guitaul, lord of Ewyas, of Erging, and
+of Caer Glouwy. My folk were somewhat akin to his, many a generation
+ago, and there is talk of a marriage between my niece and a lord of
+Gwent who follows King Gwrtheyrn. If I mistake not greatly, I am now
+not very far from my kinsman's palace."
+
+"Noble lord," his host rejoined, "if ye be akin to Gwrtheyrn our King,
+doubtless ye lament, as we do, his fall from greatness. Our Gwrtheyrn,
+heaven protect him! was lord of all the armies of Britain--like the
+commanders of the Romans, see you now; and in truth a very great prince
+is he; none braver, or taller, or more just and more generous. But the
+pirates came by sea on every side; and those Britons of the East--they
+cannot fight like us men of the west; so King Gwrtheyrn sought to
+procure peace, that the land might have time to rest and gather her
+strength. When the chieftains of the Saxons, or Jutes, as they call
+that tribe of them, came to confer with him, they feasted well
+together, and Gwrtheyrn looked with eyes of love upon the daughter of
+Hengist the Jute; and he wedded her, and gave to her kinsmen a parcel
+of land in Kent, to hold under him, that they might aid him to beat off
+all other robbers. But after this there was no peace at all. God's
+curse on the Saxon ruffians! Would they keep within their boundaries,
+think you? Nay, they disquieted the Britons upon every side. Then the
+lords of Britain, with old Emrys at their head, grew angry, and refused
+to follow Gwrtheyrn longer: even Gwrthefyr, his son by the Roman woman,
+declared for another Amherawdwr[1] and other ways. So what was left to
+Gwrtheyrn, when they had taken from him the government of Britain, but
+to dwell here in the land of his fathers, amongst his own natural born
+people, and rule over us?--and there is well he does rule over us--yes,
+yes! I and my sons were with him in his army, in the grand old
+days--not so very long ago, truly. And behold me now--a life fit for a
+cart-horse! And I a free tribesman of Gwrtheyrnion!"
+
+          [1] Imperator.
+
+"Why, from thy saying," said Mogneid, "thou bearest great love to
+Gwrtheyrn."
+
+"Indeed yes!" cried the old man. "These are ill times we live in!
+Emrys commands in Britain now, or would command--but when all is said
+and done, he is only lord of Morganwg. And he is a stark Roman, who
+will have all things cut and dried about him. I tell you, I have a
+very little opinion of these Romans, and of them who follow in their
+steps. I have often heard my father tell of them. They came to our
+land, and cut down our fair sheltering forests, and carried away our
+fighting men to their own wars, so that Britain was left naked to the
+Saxons. As for their priests--sir, I perceive you to be from the west,
+where, I hear, priests are few.... Well, well! father Pewlin says,
+when the ague torments me, 'Pray that thou mayest be given strength to
+bear the trial.' Not such for me! I have fastened a scrap of my
+clothing above the old healing--well out yonder."
+
+"The old gods are indeed very wise! And Gwrtheyrn son of Guitaul? How
+does he pass his time?"
+
+"Alack that I must tell it! Is the caged beast as princely and as
+mighty as he that roams abroad where he will?... Sometimes he hunteth
+the stag or the boar--and there is metheglin, or wine, perchance--and
+good beer. What else is left to our lord Gwrtheyrn? he who was a hero
+in good King Arthur's time! That fat-faced Queen--I trow she is no
+stay to him! 'The sweet Verge of Drunkenness!' That was a song my
+father used to sing."
+
+"Most honoured sir," Mogneid broke in, "I thank you very heartily for
+your kind entertainment. But I must press on upon my road. I shall
+praise your hospitality to my noble cousin, believe you me. Tell me, I
+pray you, how soon I may be with him?"
+
+"Fifteen miles and more is Caer Gwrtheyrn from here. Cross you
+Clywedog and Ithon both. From the ford of Ithon there is a bridle-track
+the whole way. May the Saints and Mary keep you! and all the powers
+that be! May you suffer no violence, and may no goblin or hound of
+hell affright you!"
+
+"May all the powers bless you, my father! May the She-Greyhound of the
+Heavens,[2] who maketh fat both land and cattle, favour you! Fare ye
+well!"
+
+          [2] Ceridwen.
+
+Mogneid and his little train set forth once more. They reached the
+glen of Trawscoed in the cool of the evening when the sky was aglow
+with amber lights and calm turquoise depths.
+
+Caer Gwrtheyrn, the residence of the King of this country, which took
+the name of Gwrtheyrion from its then lord, rose a mile or so before
+them, upon the heights of Mynydd Denarch. As the Demetian cast his eye
+over the surrounding country, in the east, upon the track that
+descended from the hills of Gref-o-dig and Bron-y-Garn-llwyd, he
+caught sight of what looked to him like the glint of the sun on steel
+helmet and corslet.
+
+Mogneid lost no time. He quickened his pace, and reached the gateway
+of Caer Gwrtheyrn in about fifteen minutes. Soon the customary ritual
+was fulfilled: his feet were bathed by the porter, to signify his
+acceptance of hospitality for the night, and the King's door-keeper
+ushered him into the castle hall.
+
+It was dark already there. The torches smoked foully. There was a
+manifold smell of beer, roast meat, barley-broth, rosemary and
+woodruff, dogs and humanity. Mogneid felt that he could never find his
+way except perhaps by the sense of touch. Presently a loud, harsh
+voice rang out:
+
+"Who is it? Who? What say you? Thou didst not inquire? What have I
+told thee? I will have the name and ancestry of every considerable
+visitor to my house--announced to me"--the voice spoke thickly--"as
+has always been my wont! Curse thee for a numskull! Whom have we
+here?"
+
+Mogneid, who had reached the head of the board, looked up, and saw,
+scowling down upon him, a gigantic, loosely-built personage, of
+dignified bearing for all his violence--the wreck of a fine man, with
+a flushed face and swollen, bloodshot eyes--Gwrtheyrn, King of
+Gwrtheyrnion, Erging and Ewyas, whom the Britons had deposed from the
+sovereignty of them all for all his ill-judged policy and for what
+they deemed extravagant, un-British notions--Gwrtheyrn the Goidel, of
+the foreign "repulsive" lips.[3]
+
+          [3] Supposedly so called from his Goidelic accent in speaking
+          British.
+
+"Gracious lord," said Mogneid, "it is your humble kinsman, Mogneid,
+son of Votecori, son of Maelumi, from the land of Dyfed, praying that
+he may sojourn awhile under the King's protection. There is a family
+matter in question, O Gwrtheyrn, in which I seek the aid of the
+chieftain of my tribe."
+
+"Son of Votecori!" cried Gwrtheyrn, with outstretched hand. "My
+father's cousin's son! Now welcome, kinsman. Ho! bring meat and wine
+for the Lord Mogneid! Thou must eat ere we further confer."
+
+Seated by the side of his host, the new-comer feasted upon broiled
+mutton-chops, which were carried in from without, for during the
+summer weather Gwrtheyrn's food was cooked in a kitchen in an
+outhouse. The King's hall was crowded, but the company presented few
+elements of interest to the man of Dyfed. The Jutish Queen sat upon
+Gwrtheyrn's other hand, counting the stitches in her needlework; she
+had a broad face, a square full chin, and heavy auburn plaits. There
+were a few old women, her attendants; the huntsmen, servants, and
+men-at-arms; some rustic noblemen, talkative and disputatious; and
+some half-dozen of the King's pages or foster-sons, who squabbled in
+whispers over noughts and crosses chalked upon the empty hearth-stone.
+
+"Lord," said Mogneid, "there come others to claim hospitality of thee
+ere nightfall, I do think. As I looked back upon the eastern valley, I
+beheld a party of horsemen, clad in steel armour, such as the Romans
+wear."
+
+"Art clever, kinsman," Gwrtheyrn replied. "It is Emrys, to a
+certainty! or emissaries of his! Well that we are warned. They shall
+be warmly received, I promise!"
+
+"Whence comes Ambrosius?" Mogneid asked. "As I travelled hither, I
+heard of him at Caerdydd."
+
+"Look you, cousin," said Gwrtheyrn, "Ambrosius and I have some
+contention toward, concerning my lordship of Buallt, of which this
+overweening person claims the right to dispose, forsooth!--One cup
+more, kinsman Mogneid; it is of the Kentish vintage. Now when these
+Romanizers----"
+
+"They are here," said Mogneid.
+
+In truth, the clatter of horses' hooves resounded outside the
+building, and the voices of men. Twenty mail-clad soldiers entered the
+hall, with a keen-faced leader at their head.
+
+"Greeting, King Gwrtheyrn," the officer cried, "from Ambrosius the
+Imperator!"
+
+"Greeting!" returned Gwrtheyrn shortly. "What would the Lord Emrys say
+to us by your lips?"
+
+"Thus says Aurelius Ambrosius to you, O Gwrtheyrn King of Erging: The
+renowned and mighty lord Ambrosius himself is now at Buallt, whither
+he is come to bestow the lordship of those lands--which are his as
+much as thine by hereditary right, be it said--upon the valiant prince
+Pascent thy son, for fitting appanage and livelihood. And he charges
+thee, O Gwrtheyrn, to attend him straightway, upon the morrow, to
+witness the installation of thy said son in all due form and order."
+
+"Fore God!" Gwrtheyrn roared, "this is passing insolence! Hence to thy
+master, sir, and tell him that Gwrtheyrn permits not that another
+force from him what is his own! Or if it be too late now to make the
+return journey, why, there are my villeins' cow-houses at your service
+for the night. Ye shall have a guard set over you while ye are
+sleeping. Out of our presence, instantly, by blessed Paul!"
+
+"So be it," said the soldier. "We will back to the lord of Britain."
+
+While they were departing, the Queen and her women rose and withdrew.
+The foster-children went out into the twilit courtyard to play; the
+servants, after removing the dishes and the victuals, one by one left
+the room. Mogneid drew his seat closer to that of Gwrtheyrn.
+
+"Ticklish fellows, these mongrel Romans," he observed.
+
+The King was drinking deeply; the veins of his forehead still throbbed
+with rage and shame. By and by he put down his cup, and began to talk,
+with much gesticulation.
+
+"Romans! Romans! Romans! Curse them all, high and low, up and down!...
+Ambrosius their tyrant, to the lousiest beggar's brat--and----What
+good are they to the clans of Britain?--with their fine habits and
+their sickly vices? What good to me was my wife Severa, Maxen's
+daughter? Ye see what sons she brought me--Gwrthefyr, and Cyndeyrn,
+and Pascent--cleave to Ambrosius, and forsake their own father! Here,
+in the west, are men mightier and taller and braver than all their
+enfeebled town-dwellers. Good fighting Goidels...."
+
+"All men do know as much," said the other. "For my part, I would that
+my kinsmen were the chief men of the land."
+
+"God!" panted Gwrtheyrn. "What is gone is gone--for ever." He looked
+upon his companion with a watery eye. "Thou art verily welcome, good
+Mogneid. A man is always glad to gossip with one of his own blood,
+especially after long time of dreariness. Few guests knock at my
+castle-gate--we are out of the run of life nowadays, alas! alas!"
+
+The monotony and the squalor were all too evident.
+
+"It were surely unjust," said Mogneid, in soothing tones, "that Buallt
+should be taken from thee."
+
+"And shall I suffer it? I have my favourite hunting-lodge in that
+lordship. They are my lands--my lands! It pleases me to dwell there!"
+Gwrtheyrn shouted with maudlin vehemence.
+
+"What is your purpose, O King?"
+
+"Well, that--I know not. But he shall not have my lands! Look you,
+kinsman, it is near the harvest-time: I think my men will not come
+willingly to arms."
+
+"Then speak Ambrosius fair, biding thy time. Go not to Buallt, if thou
+like not the indignity; and when the harvest is over, levy thy forces
+and win back thine own. Is there difficulty in this?"
+
+"All the priests are ever on the old fox's side. A man cannot well
+struggle if he have holy Church against him. These are evil days
+indeed. They meddle in everything, these rascally adze-heads.[4] Now
+in the days of old, we could worship whom we would, aye, and how we
+would. Prosperous days!... There were the sacred fires at the spring
+and at the fall--those were things of power; they made the earth yield
+bravely and plenteously. I remember I have run through the bonfires,
+myself, many a time, when I was a child. And the magic of the wise
+ones--I swear each spell was worth ten blessings of a priest!"
+
+          [4] Celtic priests, from their form of tonsure.
+
+"The King speaks soothly. In Dyfed there are many who do think as we,
+and who will scarcely permit the new-fangled faith to show its head.
+It is not too late, O King, to throw off the yoke of the Romanizers.
+Ye are all the world yet to your own people; they hate to see you idle
+and dispossessed. There are many men of my country eager to rise at
+your bidding: I know their minds."
+
+"Cousin, this is a cheerful saying! Thy coming has filled me with
+hope."
+
+"Know then that the ancient wisdom is mine, perfectly: from my
+childhood was I trained up in it by the last survivors of the
+venerable sacred order. Listen, then, my lord, that should be King of
+all the kings of Britain, to the words of the high gods that they have
+spoken unto Mogneid! Thus and thus, O Gwrtheyrn, foretold the entrails
+of the slave-boy accepted of Ceridwen...."
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Lord King," said Eliseg the chief huntsman, "it is not meet, nor is
+it wise, to talk of intimate matters with the scavenger of the
+by-ways. In other words, master, there is an old crafty bird, called
+cuckoo, who stealeth the nests of others that his own offspring may
+grow and flourish. Few have seen the cuckoo, but there are some that
+have had sight of him. The cuckoo is perfectly familiar to me."
+
+"Aye, so," said Dyfnwal the King's chamberlain.
+
+"By Hu the Mighty! speak plainly, Eliseg, or else hold thy tongue,
+thou naughty rogue!" cried Gwrtheyrn; but he smiled upon his trusty
+servant.
+
+"Lord, I think ye cannot know what ye are about. The cuckoo of my
+simile, look you, he is the new-come guest, the lord from Dyfed, from
+whom the King has no secrets. This is not the first time this man has
+crossed my way. In Dyfed I was born, and there my wife's parents do
+still dwell. O King, this is Mogneid the Druid, of very evil fame!"
+
+"The devil take thee for a lying slanderer! Mogneid is near of kin to
+me, within the nine degrees. He is a worthy prince, and fit to company
+me in all my undertakings. Well, and if he be learned in the ancient
+wise things--what can we show to-day to compare with the might of our
+forefathers?"
+
+"By my dogs and my horns and my leashes! King Gwrtheyrn," said Eliseg,
+"we seek not to meddle impertinently, Dyfnwal and I, look you. But I
+have served you four and thirty years, and Dyfnwal thirty, day in and
+day out, in storm and shine, and we would not, for the love we bear
+you, that ye should now ride for a fall."
+
+"We speak as your friends," Dyfnwal grunted.
+
+"It is a dangerous reptile ye have sheltered," continued the other.
+"Dreaded is he throughout the land of Dyfed for his unfathomable
+deeds. He has all the art of the Druids; and he is the last of the
+brood, God be praised! The days of darkness are over, my king: men
+will no longer take succour from the wiles of devils, thanks be to the
+Lord Christ and to Mary the dear Lady of mankind!"
+
+"Will ye hold your peace?" stormed the King. "Get you gone, both of
+you, or I will have your tongues slit for you! What next, what next, I
+ask you?"
+
+"The tantrums of him!" said Eliseg, when they two were outside the
+door. "Dyfnwal, look you, I fear that this fellow will bring peril
+upon the King. He was never up to good from the hour wherein he first
+drew breath. He is up and down the country, about and about, each day,
+questioning every gaffer and goodwife, every lad, lass, and babe that
+will waste the precious hours talking with him. Already Lord Gwrtheyrn
+is never from the metheglin. We must let nothing escape us, lest our
+master be undone."
+
+"I have eyes," said Dyfnwal. "I use them."
+
+"Hist! I see him," exclaimed the huntsman. "Grows there gold in the
+villeins' hay-meadow, think you?"
+
+Within the hall, Gwrtheyrn raged and muttered. When his wrath began to
+cool, he felt the want of the congenial society of Mogneid. This
+King's life was a lonely one. The Queen spent hours at spinning and
+carding, weaving and embroidery; and although she would listen,
+nodding and smiling, at any time to her husband's remarks, she seldom
+spoke, and her thoughts seemed always far away, at rest upon things
+serene and pleasant. So it came about that he seldom sought her
+company. Why must his kinsman tarry so long from him? wondered
+Gwrtheyrn. He gulped down a cupful of metheglin, and then another, and
+subsided into a chair, to wait.
+
+Mogneid came up the hill, smiling to himself. He knew the lie of the
+country of Gwrtheyrnion well by now, and the disposition of its
+people. He entered the castle hall. To his surprise, early in the day
+though it was, Gwrtheyrn sat propping himself nicely in his chair of
+state: a gold cup, relic of the sack of some Romano-British villa, lay
+at his feet, and there were splashes of metheglin on the floor. The
+King's mood was benign and expansive.
+
+"Want thee--tell me," he greeted him. "Old preaching devil! Alleluia!
+and they all ran away! Whatshisname?"
+
+"Garmon, perhaps," answered Mogneid. Affecting indifference, he
+watched his kinsman narrowly.
+
+"Garmon--yes--yes--that's he. Father of the king of devils! Well,
+Garmon--he's here. He's sent me a message." ... Gwrtheyrn seized his
+cousin's arm. "I'll tell thee a secret. Knowest thou my first wife's
+niece? Knowest her? A most sweet lass! She came to me, two years ago,
+being widowed and very young, and having no protector. I have her now,
+in the little summer dwelling of Rhaiadr Gwy. None know--the Queen
+knows not. Well.... It has leaked out somehow.... Holy Garmon sends to
+tell me that we are a scandal far and wide, and bids me mend my way of
+life. The old fool! Calls her my daughter! Understand, she's not my
+daughter. Not my daughter! Wife's niece!"
+
+"Thou must send her away!" cried Mogneid.
+
+"Don't want to send her away. 'Tis a pretty chuck--she pleases me....
+Besides"--he beamed--"we have a son."
+
+"All this is nought!" Mogneid insisted harshly. "Will you risk all we
+have schemed for, my lord, for one girl? Put her from you, I say!"
+
+He had used too rough a tone. A look of distress crept across the
+stupor of the King's countenance.
+
+"This priesthood! 'tis a cursed powerful thing," he said, with the
+stirrings of cunning apparent. "Old Garmon--he has the ear of
+Ambrosius. And these Christians show forth miracles in plenty."
+
+"My lord, they are not the only wonder-workers. Can it be that the
+wise men of old, who raised the giant stones for the temples, and
+forged the swords and shields that none now can fashion, were weaker
+than these unlettered saints? And their lore abides in me, and in some
+few instructed ones in the west country. Now, Gwrtheyrn, my king, what
+can a man's will do not, if he foster and train it by supernatural
+discipline? And what is the first work of the will but to sink our
+enemies?"
+
+"What is the end of man, Mogneid?" said Gwrtheyrn. "Shall he be born
+again, Mogneid? Perhaps from the crop of a hen? Shall he? From the
+crop of a hen!"[5]
+
+          [5] Gwrtheyrn had Taliesin's mystical account of his
+          incarnations in mind.
+
+"There is no end to the soul," Mogneid replied. "And every soul
+returns to a body when he may find one. Come, O King, take heart. We
+shall trample upon the necks of Ambrosius and Garmon."
+
+"Kinsman, do what you can," said the King. "I rely on you."
+
+Mogneid left him then, and sought the Queen's apartment. He despised
+the King's wife, but as a tool she might be useful.
+
+Gwrtheyrn, sobered now, beat his brow in turmoil of another sort.
+
+"Beast or bird"--he cried--"man or woman--or wandering, bodiless
+spirit! Or purgation by fire--or to roast in flames for ever! I
+believe--I believe in hell! God--if Thou beest God ... O Christ,
+Christ! I am lost--I cannot repent!"
+
+
+Germanus of Auxerre and his colleague Lupus came to Caer Gwrtheyrn,
+aflame with zeal for God and for the Church. In his palace hall they
+upbraided King Gwrtheyrn, calling him the shame and scandal of all
+Britain. As for the royal culprit, he would not hear them patiently.
+Furious words were bandied between them.
+
+"Things shall be as I will!" roared Gwrtheyrn. "Am I not lord in my
+own dominions? Presumptious shaveling! what thinkest thou I care for
+thy preachments?"
+
+"O Gwrtheyrn, egregious sinner!" said Germanus. "Know that we have
+power behind us. Ambrosius, who is near at hand with his army, will
+soon be here, to punish or to break thee. Who will comfort thee with
+the rites of holy Church if we proclaim thee outcast? Fortunate art
+thou if thou escape so easily. Lupus and I will fast upon the Lord God
+until He grant our demands concerning thee. Ere many days, heaven will
+pour down fire upon thee, to shrivel up thee and thine and all thine
+ill-famed land!"
+
+This curse carried such terror to all standing by that even Mogneid
+durst not suggest that the King should order the seizure of the holy
+men, and they two passed out and went their way. Said Mogneid to
+Gwrtheyrn:
+
+"If Ambrosius come upon us, and Garmon and his monks from Llanharmon,
+we are undone, and they will surely do thee to death. I can think of
+only one resource. Thy Queen--has she not Saxon kindred about
+Pengwern, not forty miles away? I think she will be persuaded to send
+them messages. We will make allies of them; and should Ambrosius
+besiege this fortress, we can hold out within, until the Saxons come
+to deliver us."
+
+"Do what thou wilt," answered Gwrtheyrn. "Speak thou to my wife. By
+now she must have heard some story of my pretty dear."
+
+The Queen was not jealous; and very readily she dispatched a runic
+writing and another token to a kinsman of hers whom she knew to be
+commanding the Saxon outposts at Pengwern. These were entrusted to
+three huntsmen of the King's, who had by heart every path and by-track
+in the country. Gwrtheyrn and Mogneid made fast the defences, and
+provided arms for every man of the King's subjects near at hand who
+could be spared from gathering in the harvest in feverish haste.
+
+But, on the morning of the next day, Eliseg brought dire tidings to
+Caer Gwrtheyrn. The monks of Cilfachau had taken all three messengers,
+and had carried them off to Germanus at Buallt. And the army of
+Ambrosius had been seen moving upon Gwrtheyrn's palace.
+
+"We must to Llanaelhairn, in the valley that opens into Lleyn from the
+bay of Arvon," said Gwrtheyrn. "There it will be hard for them to
+follow us."
+
+"My plans have failed," thought Mogneid. "I came hither too late.
+Cousin Gwrtheyrn cannot weather this storm."
+
+In a very little while, their preparations were made and they set out:
+the King and the Druid; the Queen upon a pillion behind Eliseg;
+Dyfnwal and all the men of the household, a few of the women whose
+homes were inaccessible, and every man of the royal hamlet who could
+be quickly armed and mounted--leaving Caer Gwrtheyrn to whatsoever
+might befall.
+
+For seven hours they rode to the north-west. After passing the
+confines of Gwrtheyrn's own lands, they kept to the course of the Wye,
+which river became narrower and more rapid with every frequent bend.
+They travelled slowly, for they were an unwieldy party. About sunset,
+an ominous smoky glare appeared in the sky in the region they had
+abandoned.
+
+"They burn Caer Gwrtheyrn!" said the King; and he wept uncontrollably.
+
+At nightfall they came to the outskirts of the waste about Plinlimmon.
+This was an uninhabited tract, part oak and elm thicket, part
+alder-shaded swamp. In the higher reaches, huge craggy hills arose
+like spectral scaly monsters gathering their strength for a spring.
+Beyond lay the open moorland where Wye has its rising, and where
+Severn is a tiny trickle, whose source is unknown to man. Owls hooted
+in this wooded valley, and there were strange flutterings, squeakings
+and snappings, and patterings over the ground. The King's men refused
+to go farther.
+
+"The dogs of hell are abroad, lord!" cried one. "Arawn's hounds--yes,
+yes! Once it is dark, they roam this desert place. There is fearful
+they are now. White they are, every one, with rose-red ears, and their
+jaws foam and drip. And the man who sees them--sure to be ailing from
+that very hour, and die before long, and that is a fact. Very, very
+unlucky! Let us stay where we are, now!"
+
+They wailed and besought so piteously that Gwrtheyrn had to permit a
+halt in spite of the friendly moonlight, and of Mogneid's whispered
+urgings. A long low cave was near at hand: into it they packed,
+shivering in the night-mist, for they durst not kindle a fire.
+
+They passed a restless night; only the Queen slept soundly in the cave
+on the borders of the haunted forest. Then on once more over the rocky
+track that led through Arwystli and Meirionedd to their goal, the
+peninsula of Lleyn.
+
+"I dreamed of Garmon," said Gwrtheyrn, as they started. "His face
+glowed white, like hottest iron, kinsman Mogneid--I cannot forget it.
+He is fasting upon his God, to procure my destruction."
+
+Mogneid answered nothing, but gnawed his lip.
+
+"Llanaelhairn must we make upon the morrow," continued the King. "It
+is a little old fortress of my father's building, for to guard the
+valley beneath Yr Eifl from attack by sea: I myself have not set foot
+there for more than thirty years. The way thither is little known, and
+I wager Emrys will be finely entangled once or twice if he endeavour
+to follow us. But there are caretakers, and there should be flocks and
+herds for our regaling."
+
+That night they spent in Arthog. A hospitable Goidelic lord
+overwhelmed them with attentions, giving them what food he had, and
+they passed the night in and about his dwelling. Across the estuary of
+the Mawddach, the forsaken druidic stones showed white and awful.
+
+By noon next day, they had reached the borders of Lleyn. By late
+afternoon, as they pursued their rough, scarcely distinguishable,
+interminable way, the Queen grew querulous. She could ride no longer;
+every muscle in her body ached; she must drink deeply from a tumbling
+spring that ran across their path, and bathe her face, hands, and
+feet; she was hungry, and here were bilberries. Surely they were safe
+from their enemies? And every one was sun-dried and speechless!
+
+Well, she might rest a breathing-while: they might all stretch their
+limbs and eat and drink their fill.
+
+"But come thou on with me, cousin," said Gwrtheyrn. "I cannot stay
+still. We will go ahead, and spy over the hills before us, and seek
+the readiest way." To the commander of the men-at-arms: "Look you,
+tarry not long, for sunset will soon be upon us."
+
+Said Eliseg to Dyfnwal, "They are gone together, the King and he. I
+like not the evil lowering of his face this day. We should follow
+them."
+
+"At once!" said Dyfnwal. "The bay and the roan are the fleetest."
+
+The sky had clouded over, and there was a rainy light in the western
+quarter.
+
+"Look yonder!" cried Mogneid, when they had ridden some two miles
+farther.
+
+A great army of horsemen was winding about the foot of the hills of
+Pennant, and at their head was something, broad and scarlet-gleaming,
+that flapped in the evening breeze--surely the dragon-standard of
+Ambrosius.
+
+"Then the end is come," said Mogneid.
+
+"On to Llanaelhairn!" Gwrtheyrn exclaimed. "Once there, we can get the
+cattle within, and hold the ford, belike, with my people that dwell
+there. Hasten, kinsman, hasten! The others have sure guides; they
+cannot miss the way."
+
+When they reached the ford of the little brook, now called by King
+Gwrtheyrn's name, that flowed beneath the walls of the fortress of
+Llanaelhairn, the moon was shining, and the clouds were fewer. They
+crossed the castle forecourt. Not a soul was about, for the land-maer
+and his family had gone to the upper pastures to bring in the sheep
+and cattle. As they opened the hall door, the stifling atmosphere beat
+heavily against their faces. A fierce fire was burning, upon which the
+women of the household had lately roasted whole the carcasses of
+several sheep. After glancing around, Mogneid sped up the stairway
+leading into the look-out tower, and Gwrtheyrn followed him into the
+small, low chamber at the top. He found Mogneid before its
+half-ruinous window, tugging at the rusty iron grating that screened
+the aperture.
+
+Presently the mortar that had held it crumbled, the whole frame-work
+came away in Mogneid's hands, and he cast it violently upon the floor.
+Then he returned to the window. Above him the heights of the Rivals
+towered; away to the west, the sea-waves lapped sullenly; below, Nant
+Gwrtheyrn ran very low in its stony bed.
+
+"What hope is there now?" cried Gwrtheyrn the King. "What hast thou
+done for me, Mogneid my kinsman, who promised so much? Garmon is a
+greater curser than thou--his magic mightier. The ancient gods have
+lied to thee, Mogneid--they delude thee--thou art not their favoured
+one! Wilt thou give me back my kingdoms, thou who hast all things of
+power at thy fingers' ends!" He rushed upon the other with a snarl
+like a wild beast's.
+
+Mogneid son of Votecori turned upon him a look that scorched, and
+Gwrtheyrn cowered back against the wall, shaking from head to foot.
+
+"Thou scum of dross! Thou refuse thing! Thou drunkard and son of
+drunkards! Aye, a high destiny hadst thou once--until thou gavest over
+thy will to sloth and rottenness! Talk ye of hope, my lord? Was
+Ambrosius ever known to spare? Well, there is one way--by this
+opening, see you?--it is fully wide enough: a man may lower himself;
+it is a swift ending. Concerning what will follow, these Christians
+lie. Perchance thou wilt become a silvery salmon, very wise, in Wye or
+Dyfi; or a wallowing hog; or Emperor of the West, perchance, or Pope
+of Rome. Jump, Gwrtheyrn, King of Gwrtheyrnion, Buallt, Erging, Ewyas,
+and Caer Glouwy, sometime Pendragon of all Britain, and flee shame!"
+
+"Shame--only that ... I must flee shame!" muttered Gwrtheyrn, climbing
+into the window as though compelled by the fascination of Mogneid's
+eye. "I must--I will ... I cannot...."
+
+He faltered on the edge, but the Druid, standing behind, pushed him,
+and his long body fell hurtling through the air.
+
+After peering for a moment at a certain motionless dark patch upon the
+stones below, Mogneid descended the staircase, in haste to make his
+escape.
+
+Eliseg and Dyfnwal caught him in the doorway. They carried him, bound
+hand and foot, into the hall, and threw him upon the fire that still
+burned brightly. After a little while, they took him off the fire, and
+hacked off his head with a chopper that was used for jointing meat.
+
+
+
+
+Dewi Sant
+
+"_O holy David, our bishop, take away our sadness._"
+
+
+David strode along the winding road: his feet were bare, his head was
+bare and tonsured, and one garment, of coarse felt, but snowy white,
+was his only bodily covering. The sun beat down upon him; the sky, of
+a deep, throbbing blue, held few clouds, and they silvery and
+sweetly-curved as the breast-feathers of a dove; on his left, the
+sea dazzled; before and about him, small columns of dust twirled
+mischievously. David's eyes, dark and bright, feasted untiringly upon
+the life and growth around him, and he sang as he went.
+
+    "Dancing is the sea, the winds are dancing also:
+    Breath of angels hath the sun-warmed hay, the poppies
+        are out in scarlet.
+    Good thing it is for a man to strive in his lifetime.
+
+    "A mighty chorus echoeth from the bed of ocean:
+    There is also the poem of the flight of birds.
+    Who would conquer sin, must learn praise and gratitude.
+
+    "Who hath set the thrift in the rocks that are smooth
+        and barren?
+    Who nourisheth the little sweet rose that maketh a garden
+        of the sand-dunes?
+    How can a man wander, when for him the Love of God is nailed
+        on high?
+
+    "The corn-ears are purple-ripe:
+    Generous gifts bring the apple-boughs against the season of
+        All Saints.
+    Very good is song, that giveth cheerfulness."
+
+He turned him about, and looked back upon the whitewashed walls of
+Mynyw, his darling among his many foundations. To the little company of
+religious who followed his steps, he cried:
+
+"I do think that of all the lands in all the world the fairest is our
+land of Cymru. And of all the parts of Cymru, look you, the fairest and
+the sweetest is this Dyfed."
+
+Aidan, Teilo, Ismail, and some few more clustered round him. Said they
+all together:
+
+"Indeed, indeed, blessed, holy father, blessed is our Dyfed!" and many
+were the looks of affection they cast upon their little abbot.
+
+"I have been in the Holy Country," said David. "That is the very marvel
+of the world--a jewel set in the desert; but hard and bright, dear me!
+there is unplayful it is! I can never give thanks enough, children,
+that I am permitted to dwell here where I was born."
+
+So saying, he resumed his journey. They had left the monks' cultivated
+domain behind them, and were now in the shade of a broad lane between
+willows and hazels, where the mallows and the bellflowers grew rankly.
+Of a sudden, the lane came to an end, and they emerged upon the little
+promontory below Porth Mawr. Carn Llidi loomed above them, on their
+right hand, and at its foot rose Ty Gwyn, the deserted college of
+Patrick, with its grave-stones round about it. In the western distance,
+far away, appeared a green fairy land, with the hazy forms of mountains
+melting into the skyline.
+
+"Let us pray for our brethren of Ireland," said David, "of the Second
+Order of Saints."
+
+About an hour later, David was still some few paces at the head of his
+people, and repeating to himself, hands folded, the prayers for the
+third hour after noon, when he felt his shoulder seized in a brawny
+grip, and he was forcibly twisted round until he faced a sturdy
+individual, with a broad, smiling red face, sandy hair, and twinkling
+green-grey eyes, and fully equipped with the war-sword, flowing robe,
+and shoes of dressed leather which only a nobleman might wear. Near him
+were his retinue of horsemen, one of whom held the steed from which his
+lord had just dismounted.
+
+"David, little cousin," was his greeting, "whither so fast, I pray
+thee, with thy chin to the ground? Have you mission to punish
+wrong-doers, O very powerful saint?"
+
+"Why, kinsman Cadfan," David replied, "sweet is the sight of you to the
+eyes. It is seldom we meet now. But I am not abroad to deal with
+evildoers, look you. Dyfed, thanks be to God! is a very peaceful place;
+the religion of Christ reigns even in the farthest nooks. I have enough
+to do, kinsman, to order mine own house and the brethren and disciples
+over whom I rule. The bishops hold synod at Brefi, and I must be there
+with the rest; though little doing, say I, follows much talking."
+
+"Hast indeed won all this land by thy words and wonders?" cried Cadfan,
+who, though he had great affection for David, could never, in his
+presence, master an uncontrollable desire to tease him. "Look that they
+deceive thee not, the pigs of Dyfed! and pay not double tithes to their
+Druids, and turn to them first at birth and at death! What did I hear
+of thee and of a monstrous old stone? Some tale spread by women...."
+
+"Dost thou doubt the power of God?" exclaimed David, with flashing
+eyes. Then, as he caught sight of his interlocutor's face, he could not
+help smiling. "Cadfan, they would not give up the old stone of
+Cetti--slew beast and fowl upon it, to obtain prosperity, or for
+blessing or cursing, and slept beneath its shade that dreams might
+visit them! Then, on a day, when a great crowd was there assembled, I
+prayed, and took a sword in my hand, and climbed upon the old
+abomination, to the very top; and I smote with my sword in the face of
+all the people, and lo! the stone split in twain with a hideous scream.
+Oh, joyful was my heart for that God had deigned to heed my
+supplication! And so was the unbelieving remnant drawn into the
+Church's fold."
+
+"Well done, well done!" said his jovial kinsman.
+
+"And the Gwyddel chieftains? Are they forbearing towards thee?"
+
+"Boia is dead. Leschi came out of Ireland and slew him and all his in
+one night; and Leschi is for holy Church. But it was pity for Boia. He
+suffered us gladly, and I think would have hearkened to the word ere
+long. A brave soul! I say mass for him often, as Cattwg does for worthy
+Virgil. But the wicked shrew, his wife! she urged him with all her
+might against us; and when we would take no notice of her handmaidens
+whom she sent to bathe in the stream that runs before our very doors,
+one day she lured Dunawd her step-daughter to an ancient altar in a
+forsaken spot, and sacrificed her to the Siddi, her underground gods.
+First shore off the little one's hair,[6] and then slit her throat! A
+sweet innocent child! who would come to our church door, to peep and to
+listen, and then flee shyly away. Alas! alas! a grievous happening!"
+
+          [6] In sign of dedication.
+
+"And wilt thou spend all thy days in lonely Dyfed, little holy one? I
+did hear of thee at Afallach,[7] where Joseph's thorn grows. Didst thou
+not bestow there some very rich treasure? Would that not be a kingly
+centre for thee to dwell in?"
+
+          [7] Glastonbury.
+
+"At Afallach left I the sapphire altar which I brought from Caer Salem.
+Afallach will be great and famous, I doubt not; but, Mary be aiding! I
+will live and die yonder in Glyn Rhosyn, nursery of the dearest of my
+sons. Lonely we are, yes. We control no state policy, for Britain is
+the dominion of the Saxons; but Cymru shall render us thanks in days to
+come: we shall have great power of prayer."
+
+"O cousin, it is marvel to me that thou canst thus go barefoot in the
+dust, and hang rough texture of the taeogion[8] about thee, and drink
+nought but tasteless water. I am but an ordinary man, and I would not
+forego my pleasures of everyday for any miracles which might be sung of
+down the ages. Well, well! each man to his own taste! I go to old Aunt
+Angharad, at Porth Mawr. The blessed woman! she has found me a dainty
+maid to wife, says she. Now speak me a blessing, David, and let me have
+your prayers."
+
+          [8] Villeins.
+
+"Our Lord God be aiding thee, kinsman Cadfan! May He preserve to thee
+thy good tenderness of heart!"
+
+"And may He prosper thee, my David! Fare thee well, little kinsman."
+
+Cadfan departed on his way, and David and his companions set their
+faces northwards. They were not a solitary party. The road swarmed with
+priests and monks, and was trodden also by many laymen and some few
+women whom devotion or curiosity drew to the synod of the bishops at
+Brefi in Ceredigion. As evening drew on, the abbot-bishop of Menevia
+led his tired followers up the slope of a wooded hill, where he knew
+were dry caverns to pass the night in, and a spring of water. When they
+neared their proposed resting-place, a tonsured figure ran out from
+under the trees, and stood in their path-way, waving his arms.
+
+David whistled to the mongrel greyhound that padded by his side. Then,
+suddenly, he hastened his steps, his face aglow.
+
+"Padarn! Dear, dear me! My Padarn! Are ye many? Or may we spend this
+night with thee and thine in this God-given spot?"
+
+"Well met, well met, David!" cried Padarn, "And well met all, ye
+road-stained travellers! There is surely room for all." He hurried
+through the thicket to the clearing before the rocky bank which the
+aforesaid caves perforated, calling out: "Brethren! whom see ye here,
+whom see ye? Look you, this is David of Mynyw. Teilo, he, and I did
+journey together to the holy Jerusalem, one in soul, in joy, and in
+sorrow; and is it not a gladsome thing that he should be here amongst
+us this night?"
+
+An enthusiastic welcome ensued, and before long David, Teilo, Aidan,
+Ismail and the rest had been seated by the fire and supplied with food
+and drink. This was the Age of the Saints. Besides the newcomers there
+were some dozen holy men, whose names are living yet, sitting about
+upon the ground, each one bound for the great synod of the Cymric
+priesthood. In the mouth of the largest cave squatted an elderly man,
+sallow and wrinkled, with a beak-like nose and weary eyes; he had
+vellum, pen, and inkhorn, and wrote sedulously, giving himself no
+respite, with a heavy frown between his brows the while. David knew him
+for Gildas of Strathclyde, the apostle of Ruys in Lesser Britain.
+
+They yielded early to their fatigue, and lay down where they best
+might, most of them within the shelter of the caves. Gildas put aside
+his pen.
+
+"They are all mightily drunken with the use and custom of sins!" he
+thundered. "If I reckoned without pause for ten years, the scandals
+concerning the high men of Britain would not be enumerated--and
+concerning also our monks and ordained priests (Have mercy, have mercy,
+on us miserable sinners!). Our princes are a host of devils--nay, worse
+than devils, for have they not received the sign and sacrament of
+baptism? Lust, and pillage, and oppression are such as were never
+before since the creation of the world. Stinking to heaven is
+Gomorrah--I should say Aberffraw! And there dwells the most heinous,
+the Satan of them all--and that is Maelgwn Gwenedd!"
+
+David yawned, said a prayer for his kinsman Maelgwn, stretched himself,
+and fell asleep.
+
+At the first glimmer of dawn, they were awakened by the clanging of
+Gildas's bell. Their prayer said, David went to bathe in the brook near
+by. When he returned to the camp-fire, Gildas, his countenance sallower
+than usual, twisting and biting his lips, had just bent down to the
+simmering pot that hung over the flames, with a loaf of bread in his
+hand, when the mongrel grey-hound darted up to him, made an ecstatic
+leap, and snatching the loaf in his teeth, rushed away with it down the
+hill-side.
+
+David's laugh pealed loud and clear. The holy Gildas turned furiously
+upon a little boy, one of his pupils, who stood beside him rubbing
+sleepy eyes, and abused him for not giving his master warning of what
+he must have seen was likely to occur. The bishop of Mynyw ran as fast
+as he could after the thief. Some distance below, in the valley, he
+caught his dog, beat and scolded him, and possessed himself of the
+bread. In the village at the hill's foot, he admired a cottager's
+leeks, and was given a handful. He then re-ascended the hill.
+
+"The sour-faced hawk!" thought he. "I am glad, very glad, he did not
+obtain the rule of Mynwy when he tried to supersede me, long ago!"
+
+Gildas confronted him.
+
+"Ill is thy laughter, Dewi mab Sandde!" he spluttered hoarsely. "For a
+holy man of God--such conduct is light...."
+
+"Thou hast the black bile, brother," said David. "Laughter is surely
+given us for good--so are we different from the brute beasts. We must
+practise austerities for all needful purposes; but I counsel thee that
+thou endeavour to find joy in all things gay and innocent, and in thine
+own mishaps, that prove thee human, most of all: so shall such
+dust-specks not make the sunshine less sweet to thee!" In softer tones,
+"Lift up thy heart, brother; in a very little while, we shall break our
+fast. I and my companions will find food enough for us all and to
+spare."
+
+Gildas, raging inarticulately, rushed into the cave where he had spent
+the night.
+
+David turned to the contrite boy, whose cheeks showed traces of tears.
+
+"Hast thou seen our Lady's Candle,[9] over yonder by the quarry-side?"
+said he. "Such altar-light saw I never made by the hand of man. Seek
+thou it out, for a lovely sight."
+
+          [9] The great mullein.
+
+"Father David," answered the child, "how may that be? Do they not tell
+us that we must not gratify our senses, for that this world teems with
+sin most foul?"
+
+"That is old nonsense!" cried David. "Has not the Lord made all the
+earth, and is not His Word indwelling? And, son, remember this--come
+storm, come drought, come frost, nothing can take our God from us."
+
+"Is it true, O my father," asked the boy, wide-eyed, "that once on a
+time your own cook did try to poison you?"
+
+"The poor mad fellow!" said the bishop shortly. "Luckily one of my
+guests suspected, and so were we one and all saved alive. Go thou draw
+water, little one, where the brook is deepest: I have need of more."
+
+David stirred the broth in the pot, adding his leeks and some sage and
+pepper which he carried about him. The monks had gone their several
+ways, in search of wild fruits and pot-herbs. From within the biggest
+cave came the sound of restless fidgeting. David began to sing:
+
+    "Hast thou heard the saying of Calwaladr,
+    King of all Britain?
+    The best crooked thing is the crooked handle of a plough."
+
+There was a hasty footfall behind and Gildas stood beside him.
+
+"Thy pardon, David," he said, very humbly, hanging his head. "Indeed,
+indeed, I know not why--but I have always a dark humour before
+breakfast!"
+
+"Oh, Gildas, Gildas," cried David, as he wrung both the other's hands.
+"I am too hot-mettled, I fear, in the early hours!"
+
+When they were within an hour's walk of the town of Brefi, David left
+them and disappeared into the woods.
+
+"There will be enough to talk and enough to listen," said he to Aidan.
+"I feel a great need to pray."
+
+The rest of the party proceeded without him. Now upon and around the
+hill of Brefi vast numbers of people were assembled. Certain questions
+disquieted the land of Cymru. Some hundred and fifty years before,
+Morgan the Briton, who is also called Pelagius, being at Rome, where he
+lived ascetically and reasoned unceasingly, hatched from his brain a
+subtle heresy. Adam's sin was his alone, and brought no curse upon his
+children; the will of a man to do good was enough to secure him from
+sin; Christ died only that His example might prompt and incite the
+well-disposed to greater efforts, and that those baptized in His Name
+might enter after death into a heaven superior to that of unbelievers.
+Now, of all the races of the earth, the race which set most store by
+the sayings of Morgan was his own nation of the Briton, who love
+discussion before all things, and especially discussion of the
+properties of the soul. Even so late as this, the Pelagians in Britain
+were many, and tampered with the faith of many, exhorting their
+fellow-Christians to forego the aid of the sacraments, as tending to
+superstitious bondage. And that some even of the clergy led gross and
+scandalous lives, we have Saint Gildas to witness.
+
+The day of the synod was hot to oppression. From early morning until
+past noon, one after another, bishop and priest addressed the
+gathering. There was as much embroidered rhetoric, impassioned
+argument, and brilliant, aimless quotation as always abound wherever
+the Cymry are met together; but to no one came the trenchant words that
+would sever the knots of their problems. As for the greatest among
+them, Dyfrig, and Deiniol, and Gildas, they seemed tongue-tied by the
+heavy weather, and hopelessly dreary.
+
+Then said Dyfrig the aged saint:
+
+"One who was made bishop by the Patriarch of Caer Salem is not present
+amongst us, a man who is eloquent, full of grace, and approved in
+religion, who has spread the Gospel far and wide in the desert regions
+of Britain, and has thoroughly purged the pagan land of Dyfed: David
+the son of Sandde, of Mynyw in Pebidiog. Let us send for him."
+
+Gildas, Dyfrig, and Deiniol, and the young Aidan, sought and found
+David, and to Brefi hill they led him. Now the sides of the hill were
+white as a flowering orchard with the bleached garments of the priests
+and bishops who crowded thereon, and for a mile or more on every hand
+stretched the great throng of the people. When David came among them,
+the holy men made a pile of their cloaks, satchels, and books that he
+might mount upon it, for he was a short man (they say three cubits in
+height). So he stood up before them in all his greatness, and he seemed
+to tower high above them all.
+
+He spoke to them in his voice of silver; he smote at error with strong
+strokes, which called forth both tears and laughter; he pleaded sweetly
+with the recalcitrant; his arguments were sound, his metaphors lively
+and concise. How can it be supposed, said he, that the nature of man
+can of itself engender righteousness to salvation? He told of his own
+laborious days: of his long discipleship with Illtyd; his missionary
+journeys throughout the west of Britain; his struggle, scarcely ended,
+with hostile princes and heedless people in his native province; his
+temptations, contests, watchings, and privations; his experiences as a
+ruler of religious and a trainer of youth. "If a man glorify his will,
+there follows pride; and pride drops dead in the presence of God mocked
+and crucified!"
+
+Then he talked of discipline, of the need of it in human life, and of
+how it must be loving and carefully contrived, that the heart of the
+delinquent be not hardened.
+
+Of those who listened, not one moved from his place until the end of
+David's discourse, and scarcely one stirred hand or foot. And some
+there were who saw a spirit near the saint, like to a dove, with
+gleaming bill, who sometimes perched upon his shoulder and whispered in
+his ear. And to many in that assembly his words brought comfort entire
+and ease from mental strife, and left in their hearts a pathway of
+peace and light.
+
+They acclaimed him with rapturous tongues; far and wide they noised it
+that David of Mynyw was the treasure of the Cymry, the prince of all
+the saints of Britain. Gildas muttered congratulations, and hurried
+away to his interminable writing. His heart was not free from envy for
+a little while.
+
+As David was leaving the synod, he heard the sound of heartbroken sobs
+from a little gathering upon the banks of the Teify. It was a poor
+woman lamenting by the body of her son.
+
+"Dewi, Dewi!" she cried, "have pity upon my affliction! He was my only
+little weakly child, and I have striven so sorely to rear him! God
+cannot reave him from me. Entreat Him for me, Dewi Sant!"
+
+The tears rose to David's eyes as these sorrowful words were uttered;
+he knelt down by the body, and began to rub the hands and the feet, and
+to pray aloud in this wise.
+
+"O Lord, my God, who didst descend to this world from the bosom of the
+Father for us sinners, that Thou mightest redeem us from the jaws of
+the old enemy, have pity on this widow, and give life to her only son,
+that Thy Name may be magnified in all the earth!"
+
+He felt the limbs growing gradually warmer beneath his touch, and he
+continued to pray, and to call upon the boy in tender, soothing tones.
+By and by the eyelids flickered; then the boy opened his eyes, raised
+himself for the space of a second, and looked full into the eyes of
+David. They gave him wine, and life was secured to him.
+
+When they had escaped from the grateful outpourings of the mother,
+David said to Teilo:
+
+"Brother, an awful thing is death! For after death, we come no more;
+and judgment follows. It has been given to me once or twice to behold
+the Angel drawing near to those who themselves were unaware; and power
+has even then come upon me that I might put them in mind of their
+latter end. I pray often, Teilo, that neither thou, nor I, nor any of
+the brethren, nor any of all my beloved people, may be cut off without
+timely warning."
+
+Wherefore, say the ancients, is the Corpse Candle foretelling
+dissolution oftenest seen in the diocese of Mynyw.
+
+The next day, before they had travelled many miles, earth and sky took
+on a mysterious aspect. A heavy blight hung in the air; and a strange,
+watery column, with its head in the clouds, trailed over the earth,
+discharging raindrops which were hot to the touch and yet struck chill.
+A few men and women fell sick by the roadside; their bodies shrivelled
+and turned yellow, and in a few hours they died. David remained among
+the sufferers, nursing and consoling. The Yellow Plague hourly
+increased its ravages. Some recounted that the advance of the pest
+could be seen in the form of a female spirit--a frightful hag,
+hairless, with flavescent features and long pointed teeth, who clutched
+at her prey. Ere many days, the land was choked with unburied corpses.
+
+"Maelgwn the King is dead!" they told David.
+
+"Then is Gildas content!" said he. "Hasten we to Mynyw."
+
+In Dyfed, for all his loving zeal, he could not dwell long, because of
+the Plague which followed him there. So David and all his surviving
+brethren and all the inhabitants of Pebidiog whom he could gather
+together set sail for Lesser Britain. There he laboured greatly for
+five years and more at Leon, Saint Ivy, and Loquivy, preaching the word
+of God and founding churches and houses of religion.
+
+
+In the last year but one of the fifth century after Christ, when David
+was a very old man, Cynyr son of Cyngen, a scholar in Teilo's Cor upon
+the Taff, being unable to bear the stern rule of Teilo, fled from the
+college and wandered until he came upon Llywel the hermit of Selyf in
+Brycheiniog, who entertained him and kept him under his protection. And
+a little after Llywel died, and Cynyr dwelt still in the former cell of
+Llywel. That year was cold and frosty, and the fruits of the earth were
+nipped in the ear and in the bud. At the autumn equinox great storms of
+wind and rain arose, followed early by snow, and the flocks of the men
+of Brycheiniog were lost and starved for the most part. As soon as the
+thaw set in at the beginning of the next year, Llyr Merini, lord of
+Talgarth, laid claim to a cantref in the lordship of Rhaint son of
+Brychan, his wife's brother, as belonging to his own tribe, and
+publicly reproached King Rhaint with being the cause of the late
+disastrous weather through his harbourage of an apostate religious. The
+men of Llyr fell upon the lands of Rhaint, seized his men, broke their
+ploughs, and carried off the little grain they had ready to sow. Some
+of the seed-corn with which they could not escape they cast into the
+stony bed of the brook Cilieni. Rhaint and his people proceeded to
+fitting reprisals. And so things continued until the spring had come
+indeed. It was then that David of Mynyw, as he journeyed through
+Brycheiniog, declared his will to judge between the warring princes.
+
+On the morning of the first of May, a white-robed monk, with horny
+hands, and a tanned face whose pointed nose and patient brown eyes made
+it resemble the face of a dog, stood in the dingle through which the
+Clydach flows. Upon a gradually-sloping bank, where primroses and small
+blue violets bloomed in the damp and mossy grass, he had just spread
+three sheep-skins, and was regarding their position with doubtful look.
+He appeared oblivious of two other persons who occupied the little glen
+at the same moment, though these were no less than Llyr Merini, lord of
+Talgarth, and his wife Gwen, daughter of King Brychan. At a seemly
+distance were their household attendants.
+
+"O Lily, servant of David," said Llyr, "I have heard that he thy master
+holds the keys that do lock and unlock the portals of heaven!"
+
+"Very righteous saint is David," replied Lily. He did no more than
+glance at the lord and lady.
+
+"Surely he does consider that the perjury of one tonsured to God is of
+all things the most abominable?"
+
+"David has a key to all of heaven that is in the world," David's
+servant continued. "Where he scattereth, there does the good corn
+spring. When the Yellow Plague had run its course, and we returned from
+Llydaw, a crushing labour was before him, for men were lax and weary,
+and religion wellnigh forgotten. But this task he fulfilled, for the
+blessing of God was upon him, and he and his disciples journeyed far
+afield, hither to Brycheiniog, and into Gwent, Ewyas, and Erging, and
+sowed the seed of the Gospel in plenty. Every holy thing does David
+foster and honour. And he reads plainly the hearts of men, and traces
+the springs of their actions. A fountain of justice is the heart of
+David."
+
+"Many fair churches owns David. Loves he not gifts of gold, and silver,
+and polished jewels," said Gwen eagerly, "for the adornment of his
+foundations? They say that the praise of beauty is ever upon his lips."
+
+"This will not do for my master!" cried Lily, snatching one of the
+fleeces from the ground. "How can he, whose years are ninety and more,
+huddle upon the moss like a lithe-limbed stripling? He must have a seat
+conformable to his dignity, myn Duw!"
+
+"See, see!" Gwen cried. "A heap of logs for the great May fire! We will
+fetch one of them, husband, for the use of the powerful saint."
+
+They carried a log between them to the foot of the bank. Lily approved
+it, after scrutiny, and spread one of his cherished sheepskins upon it.
+Then David came slowly into the glen towards them, leaning upon the arm
+of King Rhaint of the Red Eyes. With a quick gesture of greeting to all
+there assembled, he seated himself in the tribunal prepared for him. He
+seemed smaller than ever now, for his form was bowed and his skin was
+abundantly wrinkled, and all his life and energy centred in his
+gleaming dark-hazel eyes.
+
+Teilo, abbot-bishop of Llandaff, and Ismael, one of David's own
+bishops, were with him, and some of their attendant monks; and the
+courtiers and fighting-men of Rhaint followed. A few of the villagers
+had made their way to the place of meeting.
+
+"Speak you now your causes, my children," said David, in his clarion
+tones, which the years had scarcely weakened.
+
+"This one has attacked my lands," cried Rhaint, "and has broken the
+ploughs of my men, and destroyed their valuable corn-seed!"
+
+"This one," cried Llyr, "keeps from me a cantref which was my father's
+and the father of my father's; and Brycheiniog brings forth no
+sustenance, for Rhaint mab Brychan protects the renegade Cynyr!"
+
+Two armed men, shouting and threatening, dragged a youth in monastic
+garb, tonsured, his countenance pallid and his eyes dim with watching
+and fasting, to the feet of the bishops.
+
+"Here is Cynyr, between my men," said Rhaint. "Examine him, father,
+upon his matter."
+
+"O stinging viper!" exclaimed Teilo. "Obedience didst thou vow to me in
+my college upon the Taff! And thou didst manifest such notable
+dispositions in the early days of thy pupilage!"
+
+"May the penalty be heavy and bitter, we pray you, holy bishops," said
+Gwen, "that the curse be lifted from us. Always very ill fortune dogs
+the breach of a vow!"
+
+"Lady, I would have silence about me," said David, "that I may pray Our
+Lord for grace to discern rightly between Teilo my son and my brother
+and Llywel who is in Paradise." ... After a brief pause: "What pleadest
+thou, Cynyr? By whose permission hast thou betaken thyself to the life
+of a solitary? Wilt thou confess thy sins, and return to the faithful
+congregation?"
+
+"Dewi mab Sandde, with you will I go," the young man replied.
+
+"With me? but not with Teilo? Speak out thy mind, and fear not."
+
+"Not with Teilo. His rule is too harsh: I cannot bow myself to such
+authority."
+
+"Thou must go with my brother Teilo, being his pupil and servant."
+
+"I will abide here in Llywel's cell, and gather about me my own Cor,
+and rule it. Or I will live beneath the ordinance of David. Let him[10]
+not cast me away; for of all saints he is the most efficacious! I would
+be a holy man, even as he is. But, look you, the legions of Satan do
+compass me about, and make hideous my nights and my days. There is also
+an evil, fair woman, Indeg daughter of Maenarch, who plagues me
+whenever I do meet with her; and her spirit is with me continually, to
+trouble me, when she herself is absent! Pray for me, for the love of
+the Lord!"
+
+          [10] David. Cynyr uses the third person singular of courtesy.
+
+"O Cynyr," said David meditatively, "hast thou the gift of obedience, I
+wonder?... Thou hast taken thy final vows before the Holy Sacrament?"
+he added suddenly.
+
+Cynyr hung his head, and grew even paler than he had been before.
+
+"No, no. My consecration should have been at the Paschal Feast of last
+year. I fled Llandaff the week before. This I told to blessed Llywel
+before he took me in."
+
+"Why, Teilo," said the bishop of Mynyw, "I had heard that this Cynyr
+had deserted the furrow that he had undertaken to plough. Where is the
+truth in this?"
+
+"My overseer of the disciples did speak of his consecration," was the
+other bishop's answer.
+
+"Thou hast said that his vows were taken?"
+
+"I did think that they were," said Teilo.
+
+"Llandaff has done the youth great wrong!" cried David.
+
+A dull red crept into the face of Teilo, but he did not utter a word.
+
+"Come you here, Llyr and Rhaint," David said sternly. "This is my
+judgment, princes, upon you. It is written that cursed is he who
+oppresses the poor and helpless. Ye have brought contention and
+bloodshed to pass. Your people are slain, or wounded, or they pine in
+captivity; those that remain unhurt and free are starving, their fields
+being waste; and great is your guilt, for their livelihood is given
+into your charge! Ye have just heard the conclusion of your affair.
+Cynyr son of Cyngen is no vowed monk; how can heaven have sent a blight
+upon your lands for his sake? Greed it was that made Llyr to plunder
+the Lordships of Rhaint. And Rhaint has hated his brother, though I say
+not that his hatred had no cause. Ye two shall swear to be friends, and
+to keep peace, and maintain good government. And half of Selyf shall be
+thine, O Rhaint, for Brychan thy father did win it in fair fight; and
+half shall be Llyr's, for thy sister is his wife, and he is thy
+brother. So shall the lords of Gwent not spoil Brycheiniog when its
+chief men are divided."
+
+The princes exclaimed together:
+
+"Wondrous his judgment! There is content we are!"
+
+"Gwen daughter of Brychan, wilt thou swear to this also?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" the Lady Gwen replied. "No love of warfare have I!"
+
+"In the name of God, ye do promise to hold to peace and fellowship?"
+
+"In the name of God, we do promise to hold to peace and fellowship one
+with another!"
+
+"Prosperity be upon you, and upon your children and your children's
+children, and upon all that is yours and theirs, while ye do observe
+this solemn compact!" said David then. "And if so be ye scorn and break
+it, may lightning and storm devastate your territories, may sickness
+and famine stalk throughout them, and may rottenness take hold upon
+your bodies! Amen, amen!"
+
+Rhaint and Llyr held each other's hands and shook them up and down;
+they almost danced upon the springy sod in the exhilaration that their
+reactive emotion had quickened.
+
+"I am old donkey, Llyr!" shouted Rhaint. "I forgive thee thy ravages.
+My people will have no bread this year; but doubtless thou wilt
+provide?"
+
+"Donkey and cuckoo am I!" roared Llyr. "I will feed thy people. We will
+make a great feast to-night, and forget our differences."
+
+And they two and Gwen sat down upon the bank, and laughed and gossipped
+together.
+
+Cynyr flung himself at David's feet.
+
+"Forsake me not!" he wailed. "I am as firmly resolved as ever to lead
+the life of a saint. Let the little holy one of Mynyw be aiding to me!"
+
+The abstraction of age was upon David; he sat gazing at and through the
+kneeling youth.
+
+Lily approached him, carrying something square wrapped in a cloth.
+
+"What wouldst thou say, my servant?" the bishop murmured. "Well, well,
+indeed, what hast thou there?"
+
+"My father's official," answered Lily. He removed the cloth, and
+disclosed a book, with cover worn and water-stained, and laid it upon
+his master's knees.
+
+David turned the pages, caressing them with his numb old fingers.
+
+"Once I was harsh with a boy,"[11] said he. "And my harshness was
+because of this blemished volume. I thank thee, Lily, for bringing that
+sin of anger to my mind. The child, whom I had permitted to read my
+office-book, left it out of doors upon a rainy day. For penance I sent
+him to lie at full length upon the sand of the shore at Porth Mawr; and
+in the press of business I forgot for many hours where I had bidden him
+bide. When at last I ran to find him, the waves were licking his body,
+and half-drowned was he.... My son," the saint continued, addressing
+Cynyr, "hast thou not told me that the direst of thy assailant demons
+is a living woman, and no bloodless spirit?"
+
+          [11] St. Aidan, bishop of Ferns.
+
+"Indeg daughter of Maenarch pesters and torments me, so that the
+thought of her is an ever-present temptation. Great hate and scorn has
+she for me, and her strength she spends in striving for my downfall.
+She does come bringing bannuts,[12] for she knows I love to eat them!"
+
+          [12] Walnuts.
+
+"My father," Lily interposed, "they say that the girl is here."
+
+"Well, indeed, now," said David, "let her come forth."
+
+Several women pushed a maiden into the middle of the ring formed by the
+assembly. She seemed to have been weeping, for her eyelids were
+flushed; she shook her dark hair over her face, and clutched her hands
+together and plucked at a ring she wore.
+
+"Daughter," said David, "why do you torment and pester Cynyr son of
+Cyngen, a hermit seeking God?"
+
+Her lips moved. Some thought she whispered hoarsely:
+
+"I do not!"
+
+"Dost thou hate Cynyr?"
+
+"I hate him in my heart!" cried she.
+
+"I will hang him from yonder ash-tree," said David with a mocking
+twinkle, "to-morrow at dawn."
+
+"No, no!" she shrieked. "Mercy, mercy! Holy David, there is cruel he
+is! Spare him--spare Cynyr----"
+
+"Peace, woman!" David's face had become a mask of fury, but his voice
+was mellifluous. "Nothing will thy tongue avail thee. Thou hast wrought
+devilish magic, and surely we shall slay thee as a witch!"
+
+"Myn Duw!" shouted Cynyr the novice, tossing his arms on high. "Do not
+so! I was mistaken--there is mad I have been. David has cleared the
+covering from my eyes! I love Indeg...."
+
+"And thou, Indeg," said David softly, "dost thou love Cynyr?"
+
+Said she, more softly still:
+
+"I like him ... as well as I like any man."
+
+"Our Lord God lays hold upon His own," cried David, "and, Teilo, there
+is no need to grab souls for him. Rhaint mab Brychan, wilt thou adopt
+this Cynyr into thy tribe, when he shall have sojourned with thee the
+accustomed number of years? He will make a brave fighting-man, though
+not in the picked army of heaven."
+
+"Yes, indeed!" replied Rhaint the King. "I am David's servant, to do
+his bidding."
+
+"Now, upon blessed Llywel's land, where he lived and died," the saint
+continued, "we will set a new church, and Llywel, Teilo, and I, we
+three, will own it in perpetuity. And of the three thou, Teilo, shalt
+have the pre-eminence. Willingly wilt thou fast forty days upon this
+spot, for our church's hallowing. A small omission troubles thy
+conscience, I know. Children," turning from the Abbot of Llandaff to
+the man and woman before him, "I would see all well with you before I
+depart. Give me thy ring, Indeg."
+
+She put her ring in the palm of David.
+
+"It is not yet the noon-hour," said he. "Lily, where is my altar, and
+the other things I now require?"
+
+"Here is your altar, my father," was Lily's reply, "and the sacred
+elements, look you!--ready for the swearing of oaths."
+
+He brought David's portable altar and placed it before him, and set
+bread and wine upon it.
+
+David rose to his feet, and, supported by Teilo and Ismael, said mass
+as it was celebrated for a marriage.
+
+"Cynyr," said he in the British tongue, "wilt thou have Indeg as thy
+wife?"
+
+"Yes, yes!" Cynyr answered.
+
+"And, Indeg, wilt thou have Cynyr as thy husband?"
+
+She nodded her head several times.
+
+"Then I declare before all these, men and women of the Plant y Cymry,
+that ye be man and wife together. And, Cynyr, thou shalt love Indeg as
+long as her life shall last; and thou, Indeg, shalt love Cynyr and obey
+him. The blessing of God is upon you; and ye shall go with my blessing,
+and with the blessing of Teilo."
+
+Hand in hand the lovers wandered away over the young, green grass.
+
+"Sixty days and no less will I fast before I consecrate Llywel's
+church," cried Teilo, his native generosity breaking forth, "and those
+two shall have my prayers at each day's offering!"
+
+Gwhir, Teilo's bard at Llandaff, unslung his harp from his shoulder,
+and struck a triumphant prelude from the strings. He began to chant the
+praises of his master:
+
+    "Thrice a hundred servants of Christ does Teilo feed in his Bangor.
+    The fierce old dragon he drove to the seas--potent is our father.
+    Miracles are all about the little ones of Teilo.
+
+    "With Brynach aforetime did angels company in the wilderness about
+        Nant Nimer.
+    No harvest had Llandaff but flower of the broom, the gold-finch of
+        the meadows.
+    Surely white messengers were at hand for the succour of the Cor of
+        Teilo!"
+
+David listened at first with a slight frown, but by the end of the
+second triad his countenance had softened.
+
+"Truth governs the tongue of Gwhir," said he. "Hearken! there is also
+music over yonder. Give me thy arm, my Ismael--I would hear the
+children sing."
+
+They left the dingle, David and his followers, and ascended a gentle
+slope that led to an open stretch of level, sheep-cropped sward. Here
+stunted cowslips grew, and daisies, and a few stray tufts of thyme
+greeted the footsteps of each comer with their tonic perfume. Young men
+and girls, partnered in couples, were dancing about a blossoming
+hawthorn. At their shoulders and wrists, their knees or their ankles,
+coloured ribbons fluttered; and as they sprang, with outstretched arms,
+to touch the tree-trunk they hissed between tongue and palate. A man
+played shrilly upon a pipe, and a number of elderly women, seated upon
+the ground, were singing:
+
+    "Arianrod's battlements light the pathless waste of the sky.
+    Oak for power, and ash for aid, and birch for constancy!
+    Bird calls to bird that gone is winter, the time of hunger and
+        fear.
+    Bless the thorntree, maidens and boys, and bless the spring of
+        the year!"
+
+David watched them indulgently, for the days of the Druids were far
+off. When their dance was over, they rushed in a body to his feet,
+begging his blessing, and crying out compliments, sincere though
+extravagant, upon his sanctity and his fame.
+
+"Dewi Sant! Dewi Sant! Father of the Saints of Britain! May he live
+amongst us for ever!"
+
+"As God wills," said he, as he turned to leave them. "Beautiful the May
+tree--more beautiful the groves of Paradise. There is a hard task, my
+brothers, for Ismael."
+
+His companions remembered well what he had spoken of Ismael in two
+months less than a year from that hour.[13]
+
+          [13] Ismael succeeded David as Bishop of Mynyw.
+
+One February day in the year Six Hundred and One, many folk, rich and
+poor, flocked to the walls of Ty Ddewi, David's monastic enclosure. A
+rumour had gone abroad that the saint had had heavenly premonition that
+his end was near at hand. So, weeping and lamenting, these men and
+women came from the regions around, crying upon their bishop to take
+their sadness from them. Within Ty Ddewi there was a wonderful silence
+and peace; and in the streets of Mynyw were heard the flutterings of
+invisible wings.
+
+"Look you, this mourning must cease, now!" said blessed David.
+
+"Well, well, true is what ye have heard. Merry tidings have reached me!
+In a little while from now, on the first day of March, I must go hence
+to the place where is life without end, rest without labour, and joy
+without sorrow--where is health and no pain, youth and no old age,
+peace and no contention, music and no discord. I charge you pray
+always, in all your undertakings, spiritual and bodily; and be good,
+little people, for the best usage is goodness."
+
+His last words on earth were just as simple:
+
+"Take me with Thee!"
+
+
+
+
+Star of Mercia
+
+    "_Hic regina detestatur
+    Amplexus illicitos;
+    Spreta mortem machinatur
+    Ob amores vetitos._"
+
+
+"Nay, Ethelfrith, bide thou here in quiet!" said Cynerith. "Tush, girl!
+art no child now, at sixteen years old! Why, thou hast witnessed the
+death of many a fledgling rook. The sun must not stain thy cheeks this
+day, and that thou knowest! The young man cannot now be afar off, God
+help! Nay, good lack! I will not have such pouting! It is my behest
+that thou stay at home."
+
+In reality, the Lady Ethelfrith could scarcely be said to pout; and she
+knew her mother too well to venture a protest. The party set
+forth--Offa the King, the imperious Cynerith his Queen, their son the
+Atheling, and Eadburh their handsome elder daughter, wife of Beorhtric,
+King of Wessex, and now on a visit to her parents' court--and the young
+Ethelfrith, debarred from the sport, climbed to the upper room which
+was her own sleeping-chamber, and looked out over the shire of
+Hereford.
+
+If she leant out and turned sideways, her window commanded a view of
+the highway that ran by the gates of King Offa's palace of Sutton. She
+peered idly in that direction, without emotion of any sort--even anger,
+or curiosity. Below her lay the orchard-close, bright green under foot,
+and rosy overhead with the vernal glory of the apple-trees. It was the
+fairest day of the fair month of May; but its beauty awoke in
+Ethelfrith a dull, continuous pain. She was seldom happy, poor little
+princess: she thought much, but there was no one to whom she could tell
+her ideas, or who would give her sympathy. The King was always
+occupied; her brother was as spare of speech as herself; her mother was
+the Queen and unapproachable, except when she jested coarsely; and she
+feared her sister, the Queen of Wessex. There were many puzzling things
+in her everyday world which had only just begun to claim her attention.
+
+She was a very fairy-like being, so small and slim and fragile; her
+complexion was as delicate as the apple-blossom; she had soft eyes,
+grey as the plumage of a dove and a soft mouth with an obstinate curve;
+her hair was of the purest, palest gold, just saved from being flaxen
+and colourless. A strange child, surely, for those two robust persons,
+Offa and Cynerith. Just now she was wondering why they had not told her
+before yesterday of Ethelbert of East Anglia, his coming and its
+purpose. Every one about the palace had known of it but herself. She
+had overheard what had been whispered to a servant of her sister's from
+Wessex, in the orchard, upon the foregoing afternoon, by one of her
+father's henchmen, whose eyes had shed a marvellously tender light
+while he gazed upon her, King Offa's daughter.
+
+"She is the star and flower of all Mercia," this henchman had said,
+"and she is to wed Lord Ethelbert, the star of the Eastern Angles."
+
+Although she had remarked it, the expression of the speaker's
+countenance had in no wise stirred her sensibilities; she had been a
+little ruffled in temper, perhaps--no more. For Ethelfrith had no
+affinities with the courtiers; the overfed, voluptuous women and their
+satellites filled her with a cold disgust. The nuns of Marden, she
+thought, led peaceful lives, and bore in their faces a truly joyous
+light. Yet she had no longing for the seclusion of a religious house.
+She would sometimes, however--though very rarely--go to visit the
+sisters and spend a day in their company. The reverend mother was a
+motherly woman indeed; she was very gentle with the princess, and
+careful to refrain in her presence from any allusion to her life or her
+kinsfolk that might dash her girlish, half-childish dreams. When the
+maiden returned to her ordinary surroundings, how the glare and the
+chatter tired her head and oppressed her whole dainty frame! So it came
+about that the Lady Ethelfrith was little accounted by the great folk
+of Mercia: she was always silent, usually prim, and sometimes brusque;
+and to some she seemed a cross, spoilt child, and to others, witless.
+
+Then there had been her mother's half-teasing words of the evening
+before; that was really all she knew! At the thought of King Ethelbert,
+a sharper pain than the ache of loneliness amid natural beauties struck
+through her heart. She remembered the Queen's parting injunctions. Her
+childhood was surely at an end. This Ethelbert would be coming by the
+highway to the halls of Sutton before long.
+
+Impatiently she turned away from the dusty road. Her eyes lighted upon
+the flowering gorse-bushes that blazed upon the outskirts of an upland
+covert in the distance. There ran through her head a riddle of her
+nursery days, couched in the rhyming metre which the Mercians had begun
+to imitate from the neighbouring Welsh.
+
+                  "Yellow and green,
+                  Sharp and keen,
+                  Grows in the mene.
+    The King can't ride it, no more can the Queen."
+
+Song after song, carol after carol, lay after lay, came tripping
+after--some of God and the saints and ghostly blessedness; some of love
+and mirth; others of woe. A smile hovered about the lips of Ethelfrith.
+She loved songs--they were often her only solace.
+
+She would walk in the garden--no, she would not. The sun was too
+hot--the wind was too cold. She had just decided to wile away the time
+by strumming upon her cither, when she descried figures approaching
+along the road. They were horsemen, many horsemen; a mighty train. And
+there, unmistakably, was the banner of some great one. It was not a
+lord of Mercia, nor a lord of Wessex! Ethelfrith rushed from her room,
+down the stairs, and headlong into the orchard-close, in a fit of wild
+shyness.
+
+There was her waiting-maid, and there were several aged ladies who
+cared not to look on at the shooting of the rooks. All confused, she
+stammered to them of her surmise--how that the King of East Anglia was
+even at their gates. What should they do, with her parents away?
+
+"Why, lady, there is no need for fear," said one kind-hearted matron.
+Even as she spoke a servant appeared in the orchard doorway, ushering
+with every token of respect a company of nobly-attired, travel-stained
+men. In another moment the little group beneath the trees had become
+aware of the leader of the party--a young man, very lithe, very
+muscular, with an energetic open countenance, and the bluest, brightest
+eyes that Ethelfrith had ever seen. Their glance wandered from one to
+another of the women, and came to rest upon King Offa's youngest
+daughter.
+
+It seemed to her that the universe whirled around her: she had to
+strain at her insteps in order to keep herself upright. Then she heard
+him saying:
+
+"O lady, forgive me that I know not whom I should greet! Do I speak to
+the high and mighty lady, the Lady Ethelfrith of Mercia?"
+
+She curtsied, and hung her head; she was pallid now, who had been
+crimson the instant before; her tongue refused to utter audible sound.
+
+"I am Ethelbert of East Anglia," continued the stranger. "Here am I at
+King Offa's bidding. They have told you of my coming?"
+
+"Indeed, I am Ethelfrith," said she. "I do greatly grieve--my father
+and mother.... Oh, my lord, will ye not be seated? I had forgotten....
+Ye will deem me unmannerly...."
+
+"Nay, lady, surely nay," said Ethelbert earnestly; and he seated
+himself beside her upon a bench built round the trunk of an ancient
+apple-tree. He had begun to address her once more in his kindly tones,
+when a bustling noise reached them from within the palace, and in
+another moment the whole court was about them. Offa, the welcoming
+host, Cynerith, with her ready, witty talk. And Eadburh, whose person
+and taste in adornment made her give the effect of a full-blown poppy.
+Ethelfrith felt faded and nerveless beside her. She shrank into the
+background.
+
+"In a good hour!" cried Offa. "Ye have spoken with my little daughter,
+I see: no need to make you known one to another. I trow ye are weary
+from your wayfaring. Come with me, and ye shall bathe you, and have
+meat and drink. And then, Ethelbert Etheldred's son, I will show you my
+horses, my hounds, and my hawks, and ye shall say whether ye have other
+such in East Anglia."
+
+And they all departed into the house, leaving the princess alone.
+
+She, pondering dazedly, thought that a thunderstorm had broken.
+
+But the sun was shining as it had shone all day: the little stream
+which bounded the orchard from the meadows beyond was as blue as the
+sky whose colour it borrowed. The earth beneath her feet seemed to pant
+forth the scent, sweet and languorous, of white wild violets. A cuckoo
+shouted insistently. The air was vibrant with the voices of created
+things. A glimmering sulphur-moth came fluttering before her.
+Ethelfrith began to run. About and about she chased it, screaming in
+her excitement; and presently she fell on her knees, panting, by the
+brookside, her arms clasped around a clump of meadowsweet and
+forget-me-not.
+
+Summer was summer once again.
+
+
+They were all upon a green knoll, sheltered by ash and elm. They had
+flown their hawks with some success, and were now enjoying shade and
+repose, while their attendants laid the midday meal before them.
+
+Ethelfrith looked often at Ethelbert. He was listening somewhat
+impatiently to Eadburh, whose florid beauty was evidently little to his
+taste.
+
+"Lord King," she was saying, "ye seem to me in no wise a monkish man. I
+thought, from what I had heard, that surely ye would betake you to the
+life of the cloister, or else bind yourself to all of a saint's life in
+your kingly halls. I beseech you say, had ye ever such a meaning?"
+
+"They were my youthful thoughts," said Ethelbert. "But I have put them
+far from me. A king's life is for a king, and no monk's life. Besides,
+I am the last of my father's house."
+
+He rose, and crossed to Ethelfrith, offering to pour mead into her
+drinking-horn.
+
+Now Cynerith had looked often and long at Ethelbert since his coming.
+
+"A harmless boy!" she remarked to her daughter Eadburh; and then she
+said "Fore heaven! the handsomest boy I have seen this many a year!"
+
+Eadburh laughed her horse-laugh.
+
+"Are all things to thy liking, fair lady?" said Ethelbert to
+Ethelfrith.
+
+"Why, greatly to my liking, O King!" answered she.
+
+Suddenly Cynerith called out, "Child, where is thine amethyst brooch?
+Is it lost, then, thou naughty one?"
+
+"My lady," said the girl, trembling, "I did give it.... Ye saw the
+beggars. One there was that might have been a leper; and there were
+little children. O mother, be not wroth! I could not do else--woeful
+was their crying. I sent them unto the sisters, who will feed them and
+care for them this night; and I gave my brooch unto the woman with the
+baby in her arms."
+
+"Fie upon thee, fie upon thee!" cried the Queen. "Is my daughter
+altogether a fool? I will not have thee go among such filthy folk, to
+touch them belike! Precious stones give I not thee for this!"
+
+"All beggars and such scum should be whipped and branded," said
+Eadburh, little guessing that in years to come she herself would roam a
+foreign city,[14] begging her bread. "Lord father, think ye not that it
+would be well that when a bondman have not work enough, or when he
+feign himself a cripple, his lord might sell him beyond seas? So do I
+often tell King Beorhtric."
+
+          [14] Pavia.
+
+"Why, why," Ethelbert broke in, "I miss my ring of onyx!"
+
+"Was it loose upon thy finger?" said Queen Cynerith. "Often in
+unhooding a hawk----"
+
+"Nay," said he, smiling, "I do think it is where the Lady Ethelfrith's
+sweet charity would have it be!"
+
+Cynerith bit her lip.
+
+"Have ye indeed bestowed your ring upon the beggars?" Ethelfrith
+whispered.
+
+"Surely, aye," answered he. "The sad, sorry souls! These do fear lest
+they be besmirched by fellowship with the mean and ailing. But I think
+that a king, before all men in the earth ought to be lowly." Bending
+towards her, he said softly, "Tell me now, are all things truly to thy
+liking?"
+
+"Oh, my lord...." said she. Here, amongst all these people--before all
+her kindred!
+
+"'High and mighty' I greeted thee," he pursued. "Dearest, I knew not
+then to whom I spake. 'Soft and lovely lady' hail I thee now!"
+
+He handed her down the slope and together they wandered slowly through
+the fields.
+
+The royal party followed immediately, and they proceeded, mostly on
+foot, along the path which leads through the lush meadow-land.
+Presently Cynerith called the King of East Anglia to her, and they in
+their turn headed the company.
+
+"May-tide is God's gift to lovers," she said. "The Queen's words are
+sooth," was his rejoinder.
+
+"Hearken to the live things, and to the birds," said Cynerith, and her
+eyes were languishing. "Ethelbert, a woman's heart blooms blithe and
+tender in this month of May!"
+
+Eadburh looked her sister from head to foot.
+
+"Art not a fine woman," she remarked. "Belike thou wilt yet grow."
+
+"Think ye I must needs become a fine woman?" said the other, smiling.
+
+"Men like them," replied Eadburh. "All men," she added, with a meaning
+glance towards Ethelbert.
+
+"What wouldst thou hint?" cried Ethelfrith; but Queen Eadburh was gone
+from her side.
+
+The younger sister was not easy in heart or mind. Lately she had become
+aware of circumstances which she did not care to think on; and now, her
+sister's words! She was used to the moods of her mother; but there was
+also Sexwolf, the young lord who had been the Queen's constant
+companion for two years--he was full of smouldering fury, it was
+evident, and would speak to no one. Her brother was near at hand, but
+he always snubbed her when she talked inquisitively; he would be no
+help. There was thane Edric, the honest old man, seneschal of the
+court; she was certain he would tell her plainly anything he thought
+she ought to know. Why should she not take her perplexities to him?
+Alack! here was Eadburh again! Her she could not question. She would
+consult old Edric later on.
+
+"Is a woman ever too old to love?" said Cynerith the Queen.
+
+Ethelbert looked up quickly, surprised and a little amused. They were
+walking along the edge of a springing cornfield.
+
+"Look, the bonny blossoms!" cried she.
+
+She stooped over a patch of poppies, whose bowls seemed to burn with
+liquid scarlet fire. As she did so, her hand brushed against
+Ethelbert's as though by accident.
+
+"Bonny, for sure," answered the young man.
+
+"Pity they have no smell--as it were, no soul. They are rank, too, I
+think. O lady mother, this morning I heard Ethelfrith singing to
+herself...."
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Why, Leofgythe, whither away?" said Ethelfrith.
+
+Said the waiting-maid: "Lady, there is great mirth afoot to-night for
+us of the household. The Queen hath given us leave that we may go to
+the dancing at Aegelstane the Thane's. I beseech you, my lady, that ye
+forget not to comb your locks right thoroughly; they must shine like
+gold for King Ethelbert."
+
+"Good luck go with thee, Leofgythe," cried the Lady gaily. "I would we
+might have dancing too. But I fear me we shall be too few." And she
+passed on up the staircase.
+
+In the palace hall King Ethelbert and Queen Cynerith sat facing one
+another across a little table, playing at chess. All was not well
+between them. The Queen leant very far over the board, and her lips
+were pouting. Her fingers rested lightly upon the head of a chessman.
+Suddenly she withdrew her hand, and launched a side-long look at her
+opponent from beneath drooping lashes. Ethelbert's brow was black, and
+for an instant there appeared in his eyes a glint of loathing.
+
+Then Cynerith surveyed the board once more and played her piece.
+
+It was checkmate.
+
+As by a common impulse, they both rose, making no comment upon the
+game. The Queen was flushed and quivering. Ethelbert bowed to her and
+strode hurriedly from the hall.
+
+Cynerith went then to King Offa's private chamber. The King was there
+alone: he smiled at sight of her, and greeted her lovingly. Cynerith
+stood before him, rapping one foot upon the earthen floor.
+
+"My lord," she burst forth at last, "what will ye do if things fall out
+even so as your dearest wishes be undermined?"
+
+Offa spread wide his hands.
+
+"How now, sweetheart?" he queried, laughing.
+
+"It were well to be ready. If East Anglia become our foe--if Ethelbert
+will not wed with Ethelfrith----?"
+
+"Not wed with Ethelfrith! Not wed my little maid! How, wife, what
+meanest thou?"
+
+"I understand not, for my life," said Cynerith, "which way things are
+faring between them twain! It is my belief that Ethelbert is here to
+pick a quarrel with thee, Offa."
+
+"Tush, woman, woman! I have marked nought of this."
+
+"Thou wilt own that my woman's wit is ever quicker than thine own,
+husband. I think he beareth little love to our daughter, and none to
+thee or me, or any of us. For all he is so mild, and his tongue so
+smooth, he is a man to scheme deep undertakings. Why hath he brought
+with him so great an armed train--greater far than a wedding
+warranteth? Offa, I tell thee this youth will some day spread his sway
+in England, even so far as thou hast spread thine!"
+
+"If I thought he truly scorned my daughter...."
+
+"Shall we let him go forth, husband, wed or unwed? Thou shouldst set
+him straightway in ward, the wheedling knave! or there are other ways,
+maybe!"
+
+"Lady wife," said Offa, "do thou bear in mind that this man is our
+guest!"
+
+"My lord, Ethelbert is young, and as for thee, thou hast looked thy
+last upon the height of thy manhood. And Egbert our son will never be
+the man that thou art. I say, beware! Come tell me now, if so be that
+Ethelbert of East Anglia wriggle from out of this pact he is come to
+make with us--if he make of us laughing-stocks from Iceland unto Caisar
+Charles's court--aye, and beyond--say ye will strike, O Offa of Mercia,
+so that your kingly dignity be upheld in the land!"
+
+"God knoweth I will strike, and right heavily!" cried Offa. "I give my
+word I will not fail thee. But, lady, I hold thee mistaken--all this
+can scarcely be."
+
+And as he was in gleeful humour, he put the matter from his mind, and
+began contentedly to examine and polish his boar-spears. He had
+suffered one or two envious pangs through Ethelbert's youth and vigour.
+Moreover, strong man though he was, he had never been able to bridle
+Cynerith.
+
+Hardly had the Queen left the room than Sexwolf, her neglected
+favourite, sprang out upon her; and bitterly he upbraided her, raging,
+expostulating, pleading, outside the very door of King Offa's cabinet.
+
+"Hold thy tongue, young man!" said she loudly, in her stateliest tones;
+and she swept from before him into the hall, where some were setting
+out the evening meal.
+
+It was a hot evening, even sultry. They opened the doors, and such
+windows as had swinging frames, and the red glow of sunset shone in
+upon them for a brief hour. Though few of their court were to be
+present, they decked themselves that night in their full finery.
+Cynerith, clad in wine-purple, was as handsome, seen by twilight, as
+she had ever been in the days of her prime. Eadburh, in green and
+crimson, was gorgeous and blatant. Ethelfrith wore white, exquisitely
+embroidered with silver and gold.
+
+Star of Mercia was she indeed that night. Eadburh seemed a burning
+brazier by contrast; Cynerith a painted shrew. No more was the Lady
+Ethelfrith silent; merry words flowed from her lips; time and again her
+laughter rippled out, soft and joyous. King Offa began, as was his
+custom, to talk of his wars, and of the stupendous dyke, boundary
+between his dominions and the lands of the wild Welsh, which the March
+folk, at his bidding, had dug in the sweat of their brows; but he soon
+hushed his voice, and listened proudly while his youngest-born told of
+her new-found pleasure in hunting, dancing, and friendly company. Even
+the Atheling, a stalwart, somewhat sullen youth, was seen once or twice
+to smile.
+
+They brought her cither, and she sang them all her store of songs, with
+an art and confidence of which none had ever thought her capable. King
+Ethelbert applauded her and cast fond looks upon her, and at the end of
+every ditty he prayed her for more.
+
+By and by, when the light faded and the torches were kindled, Offa the
+King began to yawn, and to doze in his chair. The Queen then conversed
+apart with Ethelbert. She bore herself meekly towards him, was innocent
+and child-like in manner and speech. Presently Offa awoke. His wife was
+beside him, bearing a brimming tumbler.
+
+"What--what--sweetheart?" said he.
+
+"It is mine own brew that thou lovest so well," Cynerith replied. She
+waited while he drank, and noted how the potion increased his
+drowsiness.
+
+"Husband," she whispered, "I have sure proof that it is even as I
+guessed. He will go hence upon the morrow, leaving us pledges which he
+hath no mind to fulfil. Then will he stir up the men of his own
+kingdom, without doubt, hoping to take thee defenceless in thine old
+age. The hour is ripe, Offa my King! Shall he live to work our
+undoing?"
+
+"I shall be nithing in the eyes of all men," murmured Offa.
+
+"Lo, no man shall know how the end did come about," said the Queen. "I,
+thy wife, will be thy handmaid in this as in all things, aye, and bear
+the blame, if blame be to follow. Trust in me. O son of Woden, it
+profiteth not a man to spare his enemies. Hereafter shall thy sway
+reach from the hills of Wales even unto the eastern sea."
+
+And Offa nodded his head.
+
+She took another cup in her hand, and beckoned to Ethelbert, who rose
+to meet her midmost in the hall.
+
+"We will talk together of the wedding day," said she. "The King leaves
+all such business unto me." Then they drank to one another, very
+gravely, where they stood.
+
+Eadburh, sitting by her sister, nudged her, with sneering lips.
+
+"Let us now to bed, children," cried Cynerith.
+
+"I trow we are all full weary, even as our lord the King."
+
+As she passed out, she said in the ear of a trusted servant: "Gymbert,
+be ready against I need thee!"
+
+Edric the seneschal stayed behind, searching the floor and the tables
+for property mislaid, smothering the torches himself with meticulous
+care. He heard a light step brush across the strewn rushes. Ethelfrith
+stood before him, darkly cloaked and hooded.
+
+"My little hare was ailing this evening," said she. "I might not find
+thee, Edric, though I sought. But even now he is better than I could
+earlier have hoped."
+
+"I will go see him early to-morrow," said Edric, "if ye do think he
+will live through this night." He was a man of few words.
+
+"He will live through the night.... Edric, I have no wish to sleep. I
+have thoughts and fears which break through my rest.... And then ...
+Eadburh said ... at least I do fancy that she meant to say...."
+
+"Her tongue wags ever too fast," Edric rejoined. "Well, lady, what said
+she?"
+
+"It was of my lord King Ethelbert she spake.... I am sorely troubled.
+Meseemeth that the Queen and King Ethelbert love each other not, or
+mayhap.... And there is strife between my mother and Sexwolf.... I hate
+Eadburh!" cried Ethelfrith. "God forgive me!" she added, horrified.
+
+Surprise and interest went far to conquer Edric's wonted reserve. The
+little princess irked him usually; but now--yes, and formerly
+throughout that evening--she showed signs of a spirit that he had never
+suspected to exist in her.
+
+"Listen, lady," said he. "King Ethelbert should go his ways, taking you
+with him. He loveth you dearly, as all may see. Here hath he been three
+weeks, and is no nearer the settlement of that which brought him
+hither. Ye are scarce even a moment together. This is a drear
+betrothal."
+
+"Alack! how can I help?" said she. "Can a maid beg a man to wed her?"
+
+"And fret not yourself too greatly over what Queen Eadburh may say or
+do. Her mind is evil, and all that she looketh upon doth take on for
+her the same ill hue."
+
+"O Edric, good Edric, dear Edric, say to me that all must be well! My
+heart sinks within me. Tell me--tell me truly whether my father's court
+be fair and clean, as I have heretofore dreamed it to be!"
+
+Edric turned away his face, and began to poke, with the staff which he
+always carried, in the rushes beneath a little table standing under one
+of the windows. A faint clink resounded. He stooped and picked up a
+small, finely-wrought key with a handle curiously bent.
+
+"That is my mother's wry-necked key!" exclaimed Ethelfrith. "Great
+store sets she by it. Thou knowest she weareth it ever upon the chain
+at her waist."
+
+"She leant much upon the board this evening, playing at chess with
+Ethelbert," said the old man, "Belike it was rubbed loose, or the chain
+broke."
+
+"It openeth the garden door of the chamber, built down into the earth,
+beneath the Queen's bedroom," the Lady continued. "I have never been
+within, nor hath any that I have heard of. But Gymbert may go
+sometimes: he hath another key like unto this. Once, one of the maids
+did whisper.... But I will not believe it!"
+
+"Neither have I ever seen into that chamber," said Edric the seneschal;
+and both together they uttered the same words:
+
+"This night spake she into the ear of Gymbert, even as she left the
+hall!"
+
+"O child, be strong!" said Edric. He stopped and coughed. "There would
+be no harm," he ventured, "in learning to be strong."
+
+They were both silent for a little while. Then "Take thou the Queen's
+key, Ethelfrith Offa's daughter," said he. "She shall deem it utterly
+lost. It may serve thee at need."
+
+She slipped it into her bosom, and went softly from the room.
+
+
+"God's blood! thou sorry young fool!" cried Offa's wife. "Is this all I
+must hear from thee--I, who have done thee so much honour? By the
+Fiend! thou art right hardy! Thinkest indeed that the man who scorneth
+me shall have my daughter? I am no loser, and Offa and I, we shall
+share thy kingdom!"
+
+She stamped her foot three times, and scarcely had she done so when a
+part of the floor of her bedchamber began quickly to descend, and
+Ethelbert King of the East Angles, who stood upon that part, sank with
+it out of sight.
+
+There followed one or two cries, fierce, but muffled almost to
+extinction, and a thud.
+
+The Queen put her face to the opening, and called, "Gymbert, is all
+done?"
+
+There was no reply. She bent low to listen. Then a piercing sound
+assailed her ears--the voice of a woman, shrieking again and again,
+with gruesome, mechanical regularity.
+
+Another moment, and Cynerith had reached the garden. The outer door of
+this wing, her private door, was open. Upon the threshold stood her
+youngest daughter, in night-rail and hooded cloak.
+
+Gymbert the Queen's thrall rushed at the Lady Ethelfrith, and tried to
+take hold of her. She fought and beat him off, and tottered, shrieking
+still, though more faintly, sobbing and moaning, down the few steep
+steps and towards the middle of the room, where lay a shapeless mass
+from which a pool of crimson was spreading slowly. A flickering lantern
+swung from a hook upon the wall.
+
+Others arrived upon the scene. First came old Edric; then Eadburh, with
+her mass of tawny hair about her face; then Offa, muttering hoarsely;
+and all the inhabitants of the palace thronged to learn what had
+befallen.
+
+Ethelfrith was seated upon the ground, holding Ethelbert's dissevered
+head in her arms, and she rocked herself to and fro, and chanted in a
+far-away tone.
+
+    "Under the leaves, under the leaves,
+    There saw I maidens seven!"
+
+She broke off short, and changed her tune.
+
+    "Then He built Him a bridge of the beams of the sun,
+    And over the water ran He;
+    And the three wealthy wights they followed him after,
+    And drowned they were all three!"
+
+"Come, canst thou riddle me my ridlass?
+
+                    "Yellow and green,
+                    Sharp and keen,
+                    Grows in the mene.
+    The King cannot ride it, no more can the Queen."
+
+"No more can the Queen.... I must mind me to tell my mother that in two
+years and a little more her son will be lying dead and cold. How sister
+Eadburh will storm at what must follow--the fall of our proud house!...
+Heart's dearest, the sun is high in heaven. Why do ye not awake, my
+lord? Do ye not hear the lark singing? Ethelbert, there is blood all
+about thy hair--it is like a crown, Ethelbert!"
+
+Babbling thus and laughing, she was torn away: nor did she ever recover
+her reason, though she lived thereafter thirty years.
+
+
+
+
+Earl Sweyn the Nithing
+
+_Being the Chronicle of Winifred Ebba's daughter_
+
+
+In the first year of King Hardicanute, on the sixth-and-twentieth day
+of May, feast of blessed Augustine, Algive, only child of Aldred,
+sometime thane of Berrington, became by oath-plight nun of the Order of
+blessed Benedict, before the altar of the Abbey-church of Leominster,
+lately builded and begun by Leofric the good Earl. By this means grew
+the hoard of the same holy house the richer by the half of her goods.
+The other half, and her land at Berrington eke, Athelstane her uncle
+kept for himself.
+
+On the self-same day, and in the self-same abbey-church, did I,
+Winifred Ebba's daughter, whose father had been freed churl of the
+father's father of this Algive, make also mine awful vows to serve God
+after St. Benedict's law. Algive Aldred's daughter had then fifteen
+years, and I six more than she: all the days of our lives had we played
+together, and I watched over her. And for that I had ever longed, since
+I could mind me, for the religious life, I was glad in that hour: and
+my kindred chode not too greatly, for that I willed to tread the path
+whereon wended our old thane's daughter. But for Lady Algive was her
+oath-plight the spring of many and bitter woes.
+
+Now Algive was a right comely maiden. Like the blush of the wild rose
+on milk was the skin of her cheek: red as the wild rose-berries her
+soft lips; her hair yellow as the heart of the honeysuckle, and long
+and curling before they shore it; and her eyes were blue and grey
+together, as the onyx-stone in my Lord Bishop's great ring. She was
+hale, blithe, and unmoody, mild and forgiving; she worshipped God as do
+most women; she had ever a most sweet ruth for all that ailed or
+sorrowed; boughsome was she unto the rule of St. Benedict, in so far as
+the Abbess willed: yet I do mind me of thinking always that Heaven had
+not called her to be a nun. Howsoever, these thoughts kept I to myself.
+Twenty sisters were we, a few good enough, many less good than the best
+that lead the life of the world. We dwelt together in peace as far as
+might be; but there were no saints among us, such as King Edward loved.
+Nor was there such learning at Leominster as many of our English
+sisterhoods did boast of; but of such things I cannot speak cunningly,
+nor was I ever drawn to lettered lore. For me, the things of the
+household: let me cook and mend, heal and bind, and all happiness is
+mine. Our sister Algive had small learning enough. But because she was
+sunny ever, and none hated her, and because, moreover, her kin were
+mighty folk, when the Abbess Mildred came to die, we made her Abbess
+over us. Algive was then in her one-and-twentieth year. I do think that
+from first to last her rule was overmild. Many of us left prayer for
+idle talking--an ill thing where there are many women! Me she took from
+the kitchen, wherein I had wrought since my coming to the convent, to
+be sub-prioress, and sent me often as her trusted bode about the farm
+and garden.
+
+Those were the days when holy King Edward sat upon the throne in
+Thorney Island, by London town, and doughty Earl Godwin swayed the
+land. Many hated this Godwin; not a few feared, but ever followed him;
+but I who knew him can tell you so much of him: Were he greedy of
+wealth and grasping after means to might, yet had he a stout English
+heart, and none loved better than he the English land, or kenned better
+the wants of English folk. Churl's son or childe's son, I wit not, but
+King Edward took his daughter, fair Edith, as Lady of the English; and
+the children of Godwin were of the blood of kings, for he wedded Gytha
+the Danish Lady, kinswoman of King Canute. But though foremost in Witan
+and in leaguer, two of his own sons might Earl Godwin never rule. Of
+the six sons of Godwin, with three have I, Winifred, had my dealings,
+and of those three this is my reckoning: Sweyn the eldest was a man,
+for all his wilfulness and his sinful wrath. Harold the next-born was a
+noble prince. Woe worth the day wherein the arrow slew him! As for
+Tostig, fair of face as Michael Archangel, he was a devil.
+
+Now the Abbey of Leominster stood in the old land of Offa, some
+fourteen miles from the Hereford, where the king's armies are wont to
+pass over Wye into the fastnesses of the Welsh. Some three years before
+my lady Algive became our Abbess, Sweyn the first-born son of Godwin
+was made Earl, and given as Earldom much of the old kingdom of the
+March--to wit, Herefordshire and Gloucestershire, and more beside. Ere
+long there spread from mouth to mouth tales of the wildness of our
+young Earl, even such wildness as Godwin his father bore with never in
+any other lord in England. More viking he seemed than Englishman, which
+made some to wonder, and to put abroad a groundless slander. And with
+brooding brows and foreboding nods, folk would tell of how he spurned
+the wise words of the old, or of how he would at times drink deep, and
+then fall to singing, fighting, or love-making maybe. Yet was he a
+righteous lawgiver, and open-handed ever: loving a daring deed, a
+hearty lay, a tale of the great ones of bygone years. Few there were
+that wished him not well, and few that prayed not God to bring him
+through the storms of youth to a steady manhood. Alack! alack for Lord
+Sweyn! tallest, proudest, most gifted of all the Godwinsons!
+
+It was on the twenty-sixth day of May--the self-same day of our
+profession--in the year of Our Lord One Thousand, Forty and Seven, when
+the hawthorn was in full bloom, and the bleak blossoms of the
+blackthorn hung withered and tattered on their swart stems, and all our
+broad meadows shone golden with the buttercup, that we of the convent
+of Leominster heard a clatter of many horses' hooves upon the
+cobble-stones before our door. And there before the door was Sweyn our
+Earl, with twenty Danish house-carles that followed him, and at his
+side some of the wealthiest and worthiest thanes of our smiling shire
+of Hereford. He was much above the mean height, long-limbed and lithe,
+with a swift and noiseless tread; not ruddy, as are the most of the
+English, but dark of hair and milk-white of skin as his mother the
+Dane, and browned about the face and neck by wind and sun; with a nose
+like the beak of a hawk, and eyes like the hawk's for brightness, and a
+sudden, rare smile such as God gives to few. And a most beguiling
+tongue had Earl Sweyn--the tongue of a sagaman.
+
+I saw his coming, peeping from an upper window, and went in haste with
+the tidings to the Lady Abbess.
+
+He strode into her little parlour, and louted low before her. Then many
+a strange thing happened. I was standing by at this their first
+meeting, and what there befell can I forget never. For ye must bear in
+mind that for six years I had toiled without end within the convent
+kitchen, and beheld no man, young or old, goodly or wizen, but Godmund
+the priest. It was a fair sight that greeted the Earl, that of Algive
+Aldred's daughter, now full-grown to womanhood--two and twenty years
+had she--fair even in her weeds of black, with her eyes lowered, yet
+she peering, as I knew, all the while from beneath her lashes. And so,
+when he then beheld her, Sweyn Godwinson grew pale beneath his bronze,
+and stood stock-still before her, his look all wonder. Algive raised
+her grey-blue eyes to his for one short moment. Of a sudden she dropped
+her gaze once again to the hem of her kirtle, and felt fumblingly for
+the crucifix at her waist. Then Sweyn flushed deep red, and his fingers
+clenched on the handle of his boar-spear; and taking another step
+forward, he bowed him down once more, and gave her greeting in words.
+Thereafter these twain talked together in courtly wise, as befitted
+them.
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+From that day forth came Earl Sweyn often to our Abbey. Twice or thrice
+had he with him his near kinsman, Beorn, late made Earl of the Middle
+English, sister's son to King Canute. This was a handsome man enough,
+but methought his eyes were treacherous. After a while Earl Sweyn
+brought Beorn no more, but himself came, and was much with the Abbess
+alone.
+
+My lady had indeed grounds for beseeching help of him: her churls were
+unruly, and who could rede the Abbess so well as the Earl? Howsoever,
+within the sisterhood was there great tattle of talk, and light hinting
+anent their two names. I but waited, and prayed, feeling sharp woe, and
+sorrowed in my heart--Mary forgive me!--as much for him as for her.
+
+Then one day late in June, the Lady Abbess rode forth, with only a band
+of weapon-bearing churls, to Hereford, where Sweyn the Earl then dwelt.
+A week's stay made she there, then rode back again to her Abbey. No
+more was she the woman that she had been--even Algive the fair,
+sparkling as a beam of the sun. Wan as the dead was she now, with
+tight-drawn lips. All day long would she walk up and down the cloister,
+up and down the garden paths, oft-times wringing her hands together.
+The evil mutterings grew, and tongues waxed ever louder and bolder; and
+some sisters forbore not openly to cast gibes at their Abbess almost
+before her back was turned.
+
+I beguiled them as well as I could to leave chatter and spend
+themselves in healthful work, for it was hay-harvest-tide. On a day
+early in August, the eleventh day, we bore in our last load of hay. I
+mind me well of that eleventh of August--sultriest day of all that
+sultry month: the lift bright as glass, and cloudless altogether until
+the hour of sun-setting. All day long we laboured in the heat, staying
+only for our holy offices, the which were soon said under the roof-tree
+of heaven; and every sister, yea, even the Abbess Algive herself,
+worked as lustily as the stoutest churl. All was done at early even;
+the great wains rolled home to the barns, and we passed in thankful
+procession to our church, and there sang vespers, as well as we might
+for our parched throats. The evening meal was spread in the hall of the
+convent: each nun stood beside her stool at the board--thinking, one
+and all, I trow, of white wheaten bread, and cool cider, and eke of
+dreamless slumber: at the board's head, the Abbess had but now beckoned
+to Godmund the Priest that he should ask blessing on our food, when
+there arose a loud clamour without, such as made even the drowsiest to
+start, and we heard the voice of the portress, angry and shrill. Then
+one threw open the door of the hall, and there upon the threshold stood
+Earl Sweyn Godwinson, and behind him his house-carles, twenty dauntless
+men of the Danes.
+
+Earl Sweyn stepped within the hall, up to where the Abbess was.
+
+"My lady," he cried, before us all, "here am I. Come thou with me!"
+
+Abbess Algive would not meet his gaze. She strove a little to speak,
+and a whisper came.
+
+"Lord Earl----"
+
+Sweyn kept his glowing eyes upon her until at last she raised her eyes
+to his. Then:
+
+"Sweyn, Sweyn," quoth she, and went to him, putting both her hands into
+his hands. She would have withdrawn them indeed, but he caught her
+about the body, and laughing a little, bore her shoulder-high from her
+convent hall.
+
+We sped to our gates, but he was already ahorse, with her before him,
+holding to him tightly, and his men were springing to their saddles.
+Out at the gates they streamed, and we after them, into the midst of
+Leominster town, where they halted a little while. What a sight was
+there upon Leominster green! Small wonder that the folk thronged to
+stare! There were the sisters of blessed Benedict, running hither and
+thither as they were wode, all shrieking, some laughing, most wailing
+and calling upon all the saints: there lame old Father Godmund,
+snuffling and chiding all unheeded; in the midst of all, Sweyn the
+Earl, with his Danish house-carles about him, marking naught, it
+seemed, but a loose nail in his horse's shoe. Suddenly, one Sister
+Sexburh, who had been ever greedy after gold and jewels and such light
+things of the world, cried with a loud voice:
+
+"What, good sisters! bide ye here when the road lies open before you?
+What of the flock when the shepherdess is fled? Must we ever waste
+within walls?" And picking up her kirtle with one hand, she set off
+swiftly down the high-way, with Offa the drunken thane in her wake.
+
+But of all that there befell--to my shame I own it--I heard no more,
+for now Earl Sweyn set his horse's head towards Hereford, and with him
+was Algive with her arms about him; and I had no more thought of the
+Abbey of Leominster, of my holy oath of profession, of the needy I was
+wont to feed and clothe and the sick I was wont to heal; but I ran
+until I came up with Sweyn's horse, catching at his stirrup and calling
+out:
+
+"Leave me not, leave me not! Take me also, Lord Earl!"
+
+Sweyn made sign to one of his men that rode beside him, who, stooping,
+lifted me into his saddle before him, and so was I borne along,
+following Earl Sweyn and my Lady Algive.
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+From that day forth was Earl Sweyn forced to flee from shire to shire.
+For wheresoever he would go, the noise of his sacrilege sped before
+him. All priests of God cried out upon him throughout the length and
+breadth of the land; and of the folk, the most did shun the Earl, and
+curse the whole brood of Godwin.
+
+Then Sweyn took pen in hand, and wrote unto Edward our King, his sister
+Edith the lady's lord, begging this thing of him: That whereas Algive
+Aldred's daughter had taken the holy oath-plight in full early youth,
+for dread of her kindred, whom she might not withstand, this Algive
+might now be freed of her oath, and be wedded to him, Sweyn Godwinson,
+as his lawful wife. Now blessed Edward was a great saint, ywiss. Did
+any man ill or slightingly by this Edward's self, his laws or his
+kingship, then had the King towards him the kind heart of a woman: but
+woe betide that one that had wrought wrong to Holy Church! He alone
+would find starkness in King Edward. For him had our Lord King heart of
+stone! When he had read the writing of Lord Sweyn, he cut and tore the
+same in shreds, and stamping his foot upon the ground, swore by blessed
+Dunstan's bones that Sweyn Godwinson should rue the day wherein he was
+born.
+
+King Edward was abiding at Winchester, and Earl Godwin and his other
+sons were with him. Unto his father sent Sweyn then for help, but
+Godwin did most straitly let that he should not come to him: nor would
+any of his brethen hold speech with Sweyn, but Harold only.
+
+Then was Algive the Abbess stricken with fear, and wanhope, and bitter
+remorse, and she fled from before Earl Sweyn, and hid herself in the
+house of a kinsman of mine own, in the borough of Pevensey, in
+Kentland, where, try as he would, he might never come at her. Here, in
+the summer of the next year, her son Haco was born.
+
+And about this tide was Sweyn Godwinson outlawed by Witenagemote, and
+became as a wolf, and his head as a wolf's head, and thus any man might
+slay him, and yet go guiltless of blood.
+
+And Sweyn fled to the sea-shore, and took ship with his house-carles,
+and fared unto his Danish kin, and with them roved the seas a viking,
+for full a year and more.
+
+Now my Lady Algive and I abode in the house of Oswy my kinsman, a
+worthy chapman of the town of Pevensey, and the folk around kenned
+nought of us nor of whence we came, believing her to be a widow and I
+her maid. For King Edward and Earl Godwin had made fast unto my lady
+some small means of livelihood. Thus a whole year passed from the
+spring of Sweyn Godwinson's forth-going, and summer was come again. And
+one fine day, when my lady and I did walk forth into Pevensey market to
+buy us fresh cake-bread, who should come through the market, wending
+afoot, but Sweyn's cousin, Earl Beorn of the shifty eyes. He caught
+sight of Algive's face beneath her wimple, as she stood by the
+cake-seller's booth, and halted beside her, and spake softly, near to
+her ear. And when my lady returned to our dwelling, Earl Beorn went
+along with her, and there talked with her alone some while.
+
+Often thereafter came he unto my lady Algive at my kinsman's house at
+Pevensey--once in the week at the seldomest. What this boded I could
+not guess, but ever I misliked this Beorn more and more.
+
+One evening, late in summer, I, after long wandering by the shore in
+the cool of the eventide, hied me home, weening that somewhat ailed my
+lady, and sought her in her own small chamber. I found her therein,
+crouched low upon the floor, white as sheeted ghost, her eyes a-stare,
+her mouth round-agape. Seeing me, she stumbled to her feet, and with
+one great sob, flung her arms about my neck and held me as she would
+never let me go.
+
+"Winifred, sweet friend," then said mine alderliefest lady, "fail me
+not now, thou that hast followed me through weal and woe! For now must
+I to a deed before which my whole being quails. Know then--Earl
+Beorn--he hath wooed me long to his own ends, and I withstood him,
+minding me that my troth is to Christ our Lord, even though I be now
+desecrate. But ever he spake of the King, and of how he, Beorn, had
+lately besought him that Sweyn might come again into England, and be
+made once more lord and earl, as beseemeth his father's son. And King
+Edward, said he, seemed like to yield. And oh! I have but now plighted
+me, that if Sweyn be inlawed by his means, I will go unto Beorn
+whensoever he shall send for me.... O Winifred, thou wilt yet stand by
+me? Thou wilt go with me--on that day...? To what end my soul's weal?
+Is not Sweyn's life wrecked through me?"
+
+Seeing how it was with her, I wrestled not with her resolve, but
+soothed her crying, and swore to stand or fall by her. In the town of
+Pevensey I had a friend, a trusty good-wife who had been whilom of Earl
+Godwin's household, and loved Lord Sweyn as her own bairn. Indeed, I
+had but now learned of her that Sweyn, with his Danish ships, hung even
+then about the shores of Kent. And in his father's lordship of Bosham
+were some, as I knew, that gave him food and shelter when he willed to
+set foot on English ground. To one of these I sent, bidding him tell
+Sweyn the outlaw that I had that for his ear alone which must be said,
+and quickly. Three days later I found him, Earl Godwin's first-born,
+within a filthy hovel, wherein must he ever stoop that his head hit not
+against the thatch.
+
+Straightway I fell on my knees before him, not knowing what I
+uttered--only saying over and over:
+
+"Lord Sweyn, Lord Sweyn, this must not be!"
+
+And I told to him the guilty bargain made by my Lady Algive with Beorn
+the Earl, for sake of him, Sweyn Godwinson.
+
+Scarce was my meaning clear ere his fell wrath began to gather like a
+thunder-storm.
+
+"May he burn in hell-fire!" cried Sweyn. "May earth spue forth his
+body, that he come never to no burial! May the ravens of Odin pick his
+bones for ever, and each day may the flesh grow upon them anew! The
+toad! The rat!--Aye, I too have trafficked with Beorn Estrithson of
+late, and found him kindly and loving enough. Speak for me to the King!
+Shall I be inlawed? I do think for a day: and then, if I but yawn at
+mass, or smile at a pretty wench by the roadside, they will drive me
+once more forth!"
+
+Then growing calmer he said:
+
+"Into thy keeping give I Algive. Watch well; and when Beorn would work
+his wicked will, send me tidings, and I will be with them ere harm can
+come to that lady."
+
+Honeyed words spake Earl Beorn in King Edward's ear, and within the
+week was Sweyn Godwinson inlawed, and of the King bidden come and
+welcome.
+
+On the self-same night my lady bade me wit that the hour of her dread
+was nigh. Now the King's ships were out, ready to fight with Baldwin
+the Flemish Earl, but in the end King Edward willed not to war with
+Baldwin, so must the seamen to their own homes. It had so befallen that
+the King had sent for Harold Godwinson to Sandwich, where he was then
+dwelling. Earl Harold's seamen were of Devon, and would make Dartmouth
+on the next day, and thus must Earl Beorn be over them in their ship of
+war, in Harold's stead. At eventide would Earl Harold yield up his
+command to Beorn his kinsman, in the haven of Pevensey; and at eventide
+would Beorn have my Lady Algive come to him aboard this ship.
+
+Then I sent a trusty one in haste with these tidings unto Sweyn.
+
+As the sun was setting, my lady, hooded altogether, and leaning upon my
+arm, went down to the water-side. In a shed, behind heaped-up timber,
+crouched we hidden, and watched Earl Harold and his household men land
+from the tall warship when the shades of night were fast drawing down,
+and set out for the court of the King. Earl Beorn was left, and four of
+his men, and they had all eaten and drunken well.
+
+When all was once more still, we crept out, she and I, clomb the ladder
+that yet hung adown the side, and so aboard the ship of Earl Beorn. In
+the bows lay the four seamen, heavy with the ale they had drunken: they
+seemed scarce to mark our going. Now Beorn awaited her astern, in a
+tent-room strung upon poles and screened on all sides with thick
+hangings, wherein he had feasted with Harold a little before. At the
+door of this tent I left her, and ran with all my haste to the ship's
+side. Beneath my cloak I had carried, so warily, a little lanthorn,
+whose horn I had shrouded with a scrap of thin red silk. This I waved
+thrice to and fro, for a token to Lord Sweyn without.
+
+In the twinkling of an eye, he came on out of the darkness, ten of his
+Danish followers in his wake: swiftly and soundlessly they leapt
+aboard. They took hold on three of Beorn's men ere they could struggle
+or cry, gagged them, and bound them fast. The fourth saw we not at all
+at that time.
+
+Swiftly sped Sweyn towards the Earl's tent, the great battle-axe of a
+viking in his hand, and I beside him. Even fleeter was I, for I forged
+ahead, and had torn aside the hangings even as he came up with me. Earl
+Beorn stood within, flushed and lowering: at his feet knelt Algive, her
+hood wrested away, and the fingers of his right hand clasped in the
+short golden curls of her hair. Beside him, as though thrust from his
+way, was a light trestle-board, yet strewn with bread, broken meats,
+and drinking-horns: upon this board he leant unsteadily with his other
+hand. Said he thickly, swaying a little:
+
+"By the hammer of Thor, who dare----"
+
+Then Sweyn glided within, and called full softly and sweetly: "Ho,
+Beorn Estrithson! Here is Sweyn Godwinson!"
+
+"Is it so?" said Beorn. "Is it so indeed? Sweyn the Outlaw! Sweyn the
+Nithing!" His voice rose in a drunken laugh. "Godwin's son! Sweyn the
+son of King Canute, and of Gytha the spotless princess."
+
+It was the last hiss of that wicked worm. The Danish war-axe of Sweyn
+whistled once through the air, and smote Earl Beorn right between the
+brows, and he fell heavily along the deck, and by his blood was Algive
+all foully bespattered as she lay.
+
+And Sweyn sang loud and hoarse and high; hoarse and high and loud sang
+he:
+
+    "Utters the axe: of Sweyn the sea-rover;
+    Lifeless he lies: the wiler of women!
+    Blood of betrayer: is it not a sight full seemly?
+                Haro! Haro!
+                Aie! Haro!
+    Lo! cries his lord: Weapon unworthy,
+    Lop I thy head leifer, than 'gainst brave and true men bear thee!
+    Hempen death rather his, that was sib-folk's slanderer.
+    'Cowards come not: To the halls of the Chosen!
+                Haro! Haro!..."
+
+But of all that followed I nothing saw nor heard, for a great blow was
+stricken me behind the head, and black darkness rushed down upon mine
+eyes and ears.
+
+
+The blood beat dully against my brow, and my head ached as it would
+split in twain. I lay on a day-bed, pillowed with down.
+
+On the ship? There had been a ship.... The fourth man! He must have
+fallen upon me as I stood in the tent-door.
+
+Nay, I was once again within four walls. There were voices of men and
+women about me. I opened mine eyes. Near-by saw I some that I kenned
+full well, though they kenned not me, for often had I gazed upon the
+great ones of the land, since coming into Kent. On a settle over
+against me sat proud Lady Gytha, Earl Godwin's wife: her grief had made
+her stony; her eyes were heavy, and her lips a thin, tight streak. Earl
+Tostig stood before the empty hearth, clanking ever at the golden chain
+about his neck. At the feet of his mother, upon a stool, sat Harold,
+holding on his knee the child Haco Sweynson.
+
+"Stirs she yet?" said Lady Gytha.
+
+"Nay, not yet," Tostig answered. I shut mine eyes, for his harsh tones
+jarred and sickened me.
+
+"Was it Algive?" she said, right mournfully. "Has this woman once again
+brought my Sweyn to nought?"
+
+"Lady mother," spake Earl Harold, "I was, as ye know, at Dartmouth
+town, when, at dead of night, came one of my men to me. In a dark wynd,
+he said, armed men set upon him and held him fast, and one, whose voice
+seemed the voice of Sweyn, gave into his arms this child, son of Sweyn
+Godwinson, and bade him take him thence unto me, or be slain where he
+stood. 'And look thou beneath the shed of Oswald the shipman, by his
+wharfside,' quoth he that might be Sweyn, 'and there wilt thou behold
+more which beareth on this matter.' My man and his fellows sought the
+sheds of Oswald, and lo! bound hand and foot, four seamen of Beorn's
+ship, which Sweyn my brother sailed out of Pevensey, and the body of
+Beorn Estrithson our kinsman, mangled fearfully, and eke yon poor soul,
+whom the men of Beorn call the Lady Algive's woman."
+
+Then I guessed that I was now in the house of Earl Godwin at
+Dorchester.
+
+"Slain by my son!" moaned Lady Gytha. "Beorn, who won for him the
+King's forgiveness!"
+
+"Fore God and His host of hallows!" cried Tostig bitterly. "Heavy is
+now our shame! Such wantonness knows no end. Outcast of Holy Church was
+Sweyn Godwinson--and now black murder done on him who had befriended
+him. Shall the whole house of Godwin fall for the strayings of one?
+Were I King----"
+
+"Hold!" Harold thundered. "Never aught underhand did Sweyn, and that
+thou well wittest, Tostig!"
+
+At this I strove to sit upright on my bed, but could not, and fell
+back.
+
+"See, she swoons no more," said Lady Gytha, and was at my side,
+bringing wine in a flask.
+
+Then there broke in upon us Godwin the Earl, with fumbling step, his
+eyes wild, his grey locks tangled and unkempt.
+
+"Woe worth the day!" he cried aloud unto his lady. "Woe worth the hour
+wherein he saw the light, this son of thine! Twice outlaw he, and
+Nithing by the word of the armed Gemot! Foul blows where thanks were
+owing--that was well done, O Sweyn! No child of mine art thou
+henceforward. Harold, stand thou in his stead: thine are all the rights
+of the first-born."
+
+He sank upon a settle, shading his countenance with his hands. Lady
+Gytha went to him, and her tears began fast to flow. Then came Tostig's
+whisper, sudden and clear as the cracking of ice:
+
+"What, Harold, so soon? I did think----"
+
+But Harold chode not with him, for the boy Haco whimpered, and he fell
+to soothing him in most kind wise.
+
+Then, by God's favour, I rose from my bed, and knelt at the feet of the
+Earl and his lady, and spake to them of the shameful saying of Beorn,
+the which had goaded Sweyn Godwinson to smite him to death. In after
+years, Lord Harold knew, but so softly spake I there that my tale was
+heard of Godwin and Gytha only, and no word reached the ear of Tostig.
+
+When I had ended, Lady Gytha arose, to pass from us all into an inner
+room. And Earl Godwin arose too, and caught her arm as she went.
+
+"Gytha--wife"--said he--"here is it at an end! I am old, I am old,
+Gytha!"
+
+It was sooth he spake, the once stout Earl. He was an old man from that
+hour. But Gytha held her head high, and I knew that in her heart she
+was glad for her son.
+
+
+Good folk, ye say that ye would hear yet further of Earl Sweyn and of
+the Lady Algive, who are now no more, and of how they came to their
+ends. Men say that King Edward would once more have pardoned this lord,
+Edith the Lady besought him so. But when Sweyn had put the body of Earl
+Beorn on shore at Dartmouth, of his eight ships, six then left him, for
+his men, both Danes and English, now beheld him stained with the blood
+of a kinsman. And as he sailed towards the east, in the warship of
+Beorn, with one of his own ships faithfully following, the men of
+Hastings set forth from their haven, and hunted these craft until they
+overtook and seized them. But Sweyn Godwinson they took not, nor Lady
+Algive that was with him; and they twain hied them into Flanders, and
+there abode all that winter. Thereafter Lord Sweyn went once more
+a-sea-roving, seeking forgetfulness, as I have heard.
+
+In the year One Thousand Fifty and One, when the townsfolk of Dover,
+greatly wroth, did wreak the wrongs done to them by Eustace the French
+Earl upon the said Earl and his men, Godwin withstood the King upon the
+men of Dover's behalf, and was banished by King Edward beyond seas, he
+and all his house. Then went they also unto Baldwin's land, and Sweyn
+met them there, and abode with them, for he had long yearned for sight
+of his kindred.
+
+When Godwin was called back into England, they were for bringing Sweyn
+with them, to be inlawed, and received back into the King's trust, But
+Sweyn's pride was broken. He would come no more to the land of his
+birth, who had so fouled the fair fame of Godwin's house. Harold should
+stand in his stead: he would fare afar, pilgrim to the Holy Grave and
+Calvary Hill, that haply he might find the forgiveness of heaven. When
+the children of Godwin returned, they had in their keeping Algive my
+dear lady. All this while had she been in the city of Bruges, in the
+ward of Baldwin's daughter, Mahault, that is now Queen of the English,
+wife to King William. They sent for me to her, and put us to dwell
+together in the house of my kinsman at Pevensey, where we had woned
+aforetime.
+
+Now in two years from that time began my Lady Algive to wane and to
+wither, as a green bush when the sap no more rises. She spake little,
+and prayed long hours together. At last came the day, when she went
+abroad no more, and often kept her bed. Then one morning early, she
+called me to her side and thus quoth she:
+
+"O Winifred, this month agone dreamed I a dream, one that is sooth and
+no vanity. I dreamed that Sweyn, my lord and my love, stood before me,
+the rime in his hair, his feet bruised and bleeding, and beckoned me.
+So I know--ask me not how--that he is no longer on life, and that God
+in his goodness sendeth death to me also. But lo! another marvel. Each
+morn, as I awaken, I hear the ring of footsteps that come from a far
+frozen land. Each morn, I say, are these footsteps louder and nigher;
+but Sweyn comes not at all any more."
+
+This was at the winter-tide. Early in the next summer, my good friend,
+she who had been of the household of Gytha, sent to let me wit that an
+holy priest and pilgrim was lately come from the East, bearing tidings
+which my lady should hear. To our house-door came he, and I led him
+within to my lady, where she lay. And this was his tale, told in few
+words:
+
+"Good wives, as I journeyed hither from the Holy City, I traversed the
+land of Lycia, where they have a winter more bitter than any winter we
+English know. And one evening came one to our fellowship, saying that
+yonder, beneath the roof of an holy hermit, lay a man of the north,
+they thought of the Island of the Angles, sick unto death. I followed
+this Lycian, seeking my countryman, and found him, a mighty man
+aforetime, I ween, but now so wasted with his wanderings that he seemed
+to have no flesh, but only skin and bone. And when I would shrive and
+housel him, thus he spake: 'Priest, know that I am Sweyn the Nithing,
+first-born son of Earl Godwin, and whilom Earl in fair England, from
+Hereford even unto Oxenford! Woe for the sins of unbridled youth! I
+have profaned the Holy Church of Christ, and have wrought murder, even
+upon my kinsman, when the red wrath boiled in my blood--aye, and the
+guilt of mine own father's death is also upon me, most wretched! Since
+these things done have I known no peace until this hour, wherein I
+leave my life.'
+
+"Soon after died he of the cold."
+
+Now about an hour after this pilgrim had given over speaking, Algive
+Aldred's daughter went forth from the bitterness of the world to the
+unbounded mercy of God.
+
+As for Haco Sweynson, he fell fighting by King Harold upon Senlac
+field.
+
+And I, Winifred, daughter of Ebba, yet live on, and pray in each hour
+to Our Lord Christ and to Mary mild, His Mother, that the souls of
+these twain, Sweyn and Algive, may be cleansed of every foul stain. For
+though their sins were many and great, yet scorned they none, nor lied,
+nor ever betrayed any but themselves, neither ground down the needy
+when that might was theirs; and verily and indeed they loved much; and
+I, who have sinned my share, God wot! do faithfully hope to meet them
+both again ere long in the fair, shining meads of Paradise.
+
+
+
+
+Edith's Well
+
+"_Sicut spina rosam genuit Goduinus Edivam._"
+
+
+So, Gundred my son's daughter, thou hast been to London town; and thou
+hast seen this new Queen Edith, whom men in the French tongue call
+Maulde; and she is the fairest lady who ever in all the world sat
+beside king in high-seat; the most gracious, the meekest, the
+freest-handed, the most ruthful! Edith, quoth the child? Long ago there
+was an Edith.... Well, daughter, a queen once spoke to thy grandfather,
+and he to her; and a mighty wonder marked their meeting, which will be
+remembered while time shall last. Young folk love tales, and the old
+are fain to the telling of tales. Sit down by my feet, and hear how
+once upon a day Edith came to her Well yonder by the highway.
+
+I have witnessed frost and snow, storm and lightning, pest and famine,
+in my nigh-on-eighty years; I have known drought and burning also, but
+never such drought as befell us in the year One Thousand Sixty and
+Five. This was a great year in its beginnings: a marvellous year for
+the apple-bloom; we had carried two crops of hay before July was out;
+the wheat-ears were so heavy that they leant together as they grew,
+like unto folk in a crowd that swoon, and even the barley would
+scarcely bestir itself at the coming of a welcome wind. Oh, the heat of
+that summer! We had three showers in all between April and the end of
+August, and they but soft and slender. The earth cracked in places into
+gaps full many a foot wide; the grass was no more green, but the colour
+of the baked earth in which it had root: small weeds died, and the moss
+withered on stock and stone; half a day was the life of a brier-rose.
+Rabbits, hares, and some birds starved all about us; the field-mice
+were a scourge to us at the first, but later even they and the
+hedgehogs gave up the breath of life. The brooks dwindled and ceased to
+flow but in a trickle: many an age-old spring sent forth water no more.
+The morning dews were heavy, but soon gone; and the earth could drink
+them in no farther than a hen may scratch. Though we dug dew-ponds, the
+little moisture they gathered was not worth our toil. We cut the corn
+in haste, for the wild fowl rifled it day and night. Many an one that
+laboured did the sun strike dizzy. One man and one boy were slain by
+the heat-stroke, and some tottered from the fields to work no more that
+year. With those that remained, it was mug to mouth ten times in the
+hour! My cider was gone within the first three days; and then my goodly
+beer must follow! And in the second week in August they sent from
+Ledbury to tell me that Edith the Lady, King Edward's wife, would pass
+near by my dwelling as she went to visit her brother, Harold Godwinson
+the Earl, at Hereford, and begged that I in charity would give her
+refreshment upon her wayfaring.
+
+As the Lady willed, so must I do, for our King's sake, and for the sake
+of other some. In my boyhood I had been one year a henchman of Godwin
+her father's; Gytha her mother had nursed me in some slight sickness; I
+had ridden out with Sweyn to fight with Griffith the Welsh king. I had
+not seen this Edith since she was a young maiden in her father's hall:
+men had told of her as both merry and learned; but I had never been
+near her, to speak one word. It was said that she led a gleeless life
+with her pious old lord. She would not pass right before my door, I
+deemed, on her way to the Hereford: I would take food and drink, and
+meet her upon the road that runs through Ledbury to Gloucester, and
+ride with her some deal of her journey, if she should wish for my
+company. So I set out about the ninth hour of the morning, with four of
+my men: my good wife, thy grandmother, I bade abide within doors, for
+fear of the deadly heat. We bore with us a pie and wheaten bread--no
+butter, for it would have melted. Little beer and no cider had I by
+then; but we took two skins of ripe mead, fit for queen or king.
+
+The sun was shining so strongly that we could almost hear the shooting
+of his beams. The air was seen to throb. White dust lay thickly over
+grass, bush and tree. There was a dreadful stillness; the only sound
+that ourselves made not was the sickening hum of flies. We went slowly,
+with bracken-leaves bound about our heads and twined within our horses'
+browbands. When we had gone some two miles, there befell a great
+mishap. The stopper flew from the mead-flask at the saddle-bow of
+Anflete the reeve, and the mead gushed out. We had not time to catch
+any of it ere it lay frothing in the dust. And then, as though the
+devil strove to plague us, the other bottle, which mine own horse
+carried, burst also, and left us likewise liquorless.
+
+But we bore on, until we came to a spot a few yards off the Ledbury
+highway, where the banks were steep and the bushes shady: indeed, all
+about was the woodland of the vill of Stoke, belonging to this same
+Edith the Lady, who had set a reeve therein to see to her rights and
+her profits. Seemingly she would not stay to look upon her own land, so
+fain was she for sight of Harold her brother. Near the joining of the
+ways, then, we waited. Our throats were as dry as a smith's bellows. My
+men had swallowed what little beer we had left before I could forbid
+them. At once I made the blockheads seek for water, thinking of the
+wants of those we had come to meet. Not one drop within a hundred yards
+in every quarter, though God knows there are springs and streams enough
+thereabouts in any common year! We stretched ourselves in what there
+was of shade, and soon we beheld them coming, a goodly company of
+ladies and armed men.
+
+We went forward to greet them; the foremost of them got down from their
+saddles; the Lady of the English came stately towards me, smiled, and
+put her small hand in mine.
+
+"Odda, right glad am I to meet with thee," she said. "Dost thou mind
+thee how at Winchester I let my head-rail fall from a window into the
+buckthorn-tree, and how thou didst climb in and get it again, and didst
+send it me by my mother's woman?"
+
+I remembered. Being but a henchman of the stable, I could not myself go
+with it.
+
+How gracious her smile! How mild her condescension! Great wonder was it
+throughout the land, I knew, that she should be so lowly-sweet. The
+Lady Edith was little like to Earl Godwin her father, the rugged, grim
+old man! Although at this time about forty-four years old, as I think,
+she was an exceedingly fair woman still. Her skin was white as
+walrus-bone, and very little wrinkled; her hair long, thick, and
+red-golden as ever it had been, for though she was now hooded and
+staidly wimpled, I saw it uncovered later on that morning, and I could
+find therein no grizzled strand. Her clothing? She was cloaked and
+hooded, meseemeth, in fallow hue--and a little cross, finely-wrought in
+silver, hung at her throat; but how can a man speak of women's
+garments? I know that her mouth was soft and kindly, and quivered a
+little sometimes when she was not speaking; and there were now black
+shadows beneath her big grey eyes--maybe from the hardship of her
+journeying.
+
+"My lady," I answered, "I beg that ye will rest awhile, and eat of the
+food that I have here. Alack! I have no drink to set before you! We
+brought mead, but in the heat an hour agone it burst our bottles; and
+there is no water near at hand--we have but lately sought it."
+
+The lady raised her hands to her brows in most weary wise.
+
+"Good Odda," she said, notwithstanding, "I thank thee much for thy
+kindness in thus coming, and for all the pains that thou hast taken.
+And since thy mead was lost on my behalf, I thank thee for it also. Let
+us sit here awhile and eat, as thou sayest; we are sore anhungered,
+that is sure. And later we will go find my reeve at Stoke over yonder.
+He will doubtless have one drop of somewhat for us each to drink. We
+also emptied our flasks an hour ago, silly souls that we were!"
+
+She had with her her mass-priest, her women, her men-at-arms, her
+thralls. We sat down upon the ground, and broke the pasty into
+portions, and dealt out my fine wheaten bread.
+
+As she talked with me of the old days in her own home, suddenly we
+heard a noise in the woodland upon our right--a child's voice
+wailing--the voices of two children. Far away at first, then somewhat
+nearer. Two wandering children, crying fit to burst their bosoms. Great
+breathless, thirsty sobs, swelling every now and then to a despairing
+roar.
+
+The lady had sprung to her feet, and had broken through the nearest
+bushes into the thicket beyond.
+
+"Hither! hither!" she cried. "Come! Come! But where are ye? Weep no
+more--here is help!"
+
+We all followed her. She walked onward, calling; they shouted still,
+and drew nearer and yet more near: at last they came forth, the little
+mites, upon a bare plot whereon we had halted. Boy and girl they were;
+five and seven years old they seemed: hand clasped in hand, cheeks
+grimy with dust which their tears had furrowed, faces flushed and
+seared by the mighty heat.
+
+She ran to meet them, with outstretched arms. They ran to her, and
+caught at her skirts. The girl, the younger, cried, "We were lost!" and
+the boy said hoarsely, "Mother!... O mother, the world looks black....
+Oh, my head, I cannot see!" and he had fallen flat at her feet before
+she could stay him.
+
+The girl said, "Lady, my head--great smart have I also!" and her breath
+came thick and loud.
+
+The Lady Edith gathered sorrel-leaves, and bound them about the heads
+of the bairns.
+
+"It is not enough," said she then. "They must have water."
+
+"There is no water here," Anflete my servant answered. "We sought it
+high and low before my lady's coming."
+
+She wrung her hands in sharp woe.
+
+"O Christ, have mercy!" she said. "O Mary, that art our mother,
+hasten--help!"
+
+Then her passion seemed to leave her, and she knelt, and began to speak
+in still, low tones; but I heard her words.
+
+"Father of all goodness," she prayed, "save these twain alive, who are
+more to Thee than the wild sparrows! Strengthen then, Lord, I beseech
+thee, the gift that Thou hast bestowed upon Thine handmaid!"
+
+Having so said, she arose, and quickly bade her folk bear the children
+with them, and shade the little ones' heads. It was high noon now, but
+she flung her hood back, and her wimple fell away and hung down with
+the hood, so that her bright hair was laid bare, and her shapely neck
+and breast of ivory. Many a woman would have seemed light-minded, even
+wanton, so; but our Edith was queen in everything she did. Although the
+soil was burning, and scorched the feet through riding-boots, she began
+to walk swiftly, glidingly, around and about. She held her
+riding-switch, a toy with handle of gold and amber, bent bow-wise
+between her two hands. Her lips were parted, as those of one who
+breathes-in freshest air.
+
+And we followed, a great awe upon us. We were once more in the lane
+where we had rested, when a gleam awoke in her eyes, which had become
+dark and shut off from earthly sight, and she sped ahead of us even
+faster than at first. She came to where the bank overhung, and was
+covered with sagging ferns, shrivelled and caked with dust. A shiver
+shot through her whole body, and the switch that she carried started
+and writhed as it had been a live snake.
+
+"God be praised!" she exclaimed. "Here is water for them!" She stamped
+her foot. "Dig! dig! Bring spades--Oh, dig! Quick! Would ye see them
+die before your eyes?"
+
+"Sebbe the charcoal-burner!" said Anflete. "I will fetch his spade."
+
+Edith had snatched his war-axe from one of her men-at-arms and was
+hewing at the bank whereunder she stood; I hacked away with my broad
+knife; some of the others scratched with their hands. In a little while
+Anflete was back from the charcoal-burner's with spade and pick, and we
+got more skilfully to work. A homely croon was heard in the heart of
+the earth. A spot of moisture darkened the bottom of the hollow that we
+had made. One spadeful more, and up it bubbled--a little spring, but a
+strong one. There were stones still within the hollow, and we put back
+more to keep up the shifting sides; and into the bowl so made the water
+flowed, thick and clotted, truly, with the dust and flakes of
+sandstone, but how sweet to touch and taste! Oh, the happy noise of
+water in a thirsty land!
+
+The Lady Edith dipped a clout in the well and bathed the heads and
+necks of the little ones, gave them to drink, and set them to lie in
+the shade. Soon the girl-child stirred and wept, and Edith lifted her
+up in her arms. A shrill cry made us all turn to behold a poorly-clad
+woman, hot and unkempt, who stumbled towards us, tears in her eyes and
+terror in her voice.
+
+"Ye naughty ones!" she stormed at sight of the children. "Here have I
+been...."
+
+Then she stopped short, with open mouth, and stared at the slender,
+bare-headed woman who held her younger child, until one whispered: "It
+is the King's Lady!" when she louted down upon her knees.
+
+"Hush! hush!" said Lady Edith to her sobbing burden. "Fear not,
+sweetheart! Thou must go home now--go to thy mother indeed!" and she
+laid her in the arms of the kneeling woman.
+
+Never had she been more lovely than in that moment, her face shining
+like a rose, her eyes most tender and brightly-beaming. When, a short
+while after, she turned from mother and child and came seeking me, a
+huge pity rushed up within me, and I think that she read that pity in
+my look.
+
+"Dread lady," said I, being a little mazed, and all soft with ruth,
+"how goes it with our Lord the King?"
+
+"Whenas I left my lord, all was right well with him," she answered. "He
+had some sickness in the spring, but it irked him little, truly, for
+his years. Such an holy life he leads, and yet he is so long-enduring
+towards them of worldly mind! It is great joy to me that I may see him
+sometimes, and be somewhat near him."
+
+She crossed herself, and the fair light faded from her.
+
+"Wherefore do I murmur?" said she. "Is not Jordan flood better than all
+the rivers of Damascus?"
+
+And so saying, she folded her meek hands above her heart, and went her
+way.
+
+I never saw her again. The well that she found for us abideth for her
+memorial: clear and cool in every weather--the freshest in all the
+countryside. I have often thought of her since that day; and I think of
+her more often now than ever in the long night hours that are not the
+drowsy hours when one has grown old. Dreams, Gundred, dreams--waking
+dreams, but idle things none the less! But sometimes meseemeth that her
+very self is near me, standing as I best knew her, arms outheld, face
+aglow. She lived and died childless; the old King had made an oath,
+they say, for fear he might fall short of heaven. Once or twice evil
+tongues have made free to slander her fame! She was staunch, I know,
+and flawless; and yet her heart was quick and warm. Girl, I have ever
+recked little of the greater deal of the saints to whom prelates bid us
+pray. Of God and of his goodness I reck much; and this is the saint
+whom I worship before all others, crowned in this world or
+uncrowned--Edith the well-beloved Lady, whom all her people honoured
+and pitied.
+
+
+
+
+Richard the Scrob
+
+
+"Better than mine, Kenric--better than thine!" said Grim. "Ever his are
+taken, and ours are left. Who will look at our sheep and our oxen when
+the Scrob's are by?"
+
+Kenric withdrew the straw that he had been chewing from between his
+teeth, and ceased to stare at the white-limbed, red-spotted cattle in
+the pen before him.
+
+"Eh! he buyeth for the Bishop," he mumbled. "And he buyeth for the folk
+of Hereford town. And for the Abbot of Leominster. And for the Prior of
+Wenlock. His salted meat is rowed upon Wye and upon Severn to feed the
+merchantmen of Bristol. Grim, this Frenchman is a worker of spells."
+
+"And even so the beasts of his own breeding are such as thou wilt not
+meet with on any other man's land within the two shires. Heavier!
+Fatter! Sleeker! I would that his lord the devil would fly away with
+him soon! Hast thou but seen his woolsacks yonder? What other has such
+great store to sell? True, he can have little spinning at home, with no
+women."
+
+"I have not seen him--Richard the Scrob," said vague Kenric, returning
+to his straw-munching. "Are not these sold already----"
+
+"Kenric, stand not and grumble, with blind eyes," cried Munulf the
+maltman, who now accosted these two. "Here is a sight not often
+seen--the little widow, Kenric, the plump widow. Look up and behold the
+light of thine eyes, where she cometh, girt about with her husband's
+stalwart kinsfold."
+
+"Hey? who?" Kenric rejoined. "Who cometh yonder? Alftrude the widow of
+Winge? Oh, aye, it is a pretty woman enough----"
+
+"And should be rich woman enough," said Grim. "They are watchdogs
+indeed, the brethren of the Moor. I wonder that they let her show her
+nose at Ludford fair--so little and straight is it that many a man will
+love it, by heaven! My good wife pities Alftrude greatly. She will be
+widow to the end of her days, they ward her about so wilily."
+
+"I know it, I know it!" wheezed Kenric. "And Ulwin, Alward, and
+Ednoth--they are three ill men to deal withal. Alack! no hope have I!"
+He summoned up a faint sigh of good-humoured resignation. "If but now
+thou found me grumbling," he explained, "it was at French Richard."
+
+Munulf raked his fingers through his long yellow hair, and looked
+mysterious.
+
+"I have heard cunning talk of late," said he "Men say that these
+outland folk that swarm about our King shall soon be outlanders
+twofold; for shall they not be bundled off, beyond the seas, whither
+they came? Earl Godwin called together his Mickle Gemot seven weeks
+ago. I would we knew how that has sped. Godwin is wont to bring about
+his will!"
+
+"Why, my lords, he hath brought it about, the good Earl!" sounded in an
+excited cackle behind them. Hildred the ale-wife hastened to join the
+three speakers, her red face unusually resplendent with pride in being
+foremost retailer of news for that day. "A man of Worcester brought
+great tidings yestereve. Godwin is driving out the accursed Normans,
+every one--man, woman, child, and priest. Even Ralf our Earl, the
+King's nephew, shall go, though his mother were English Godgifu!"
+
+"Bless the work!" exclaimed Grim. "These Normans have a knack of
+drawing to themselves the wealth that should be ours. There should be
+pickings, eh? for all true Englishmen!" He nudged Kenric, and
+whispered:
+
+"H'st! see where Richard comes!"
+
+Richard the Norman came up to his cattle-pen. He was a small man,
+slightly built, and of upright carriage, and he moved with a spring in
+his gait. He had an aquiline nose, a persistent chin, and a strong,
+exceedingly well-formed mouth; his eyes were dark and deeply-set
+beneath the fine straight line of brow, and they looked straight into
+the eyes of others. His face was clean-shaven like a cleric's, and more
+than ordinarily wrinkled about mouth, eyes, and brow for his age, which
+was a little over thirty; the black hair of his head was cut short at
+the nape of the neck and the top of the forehead. He wore a short tunic
+of dull-coloured cloth, and leather boots, and from his waistbelt hung
+a small, shabby leather bag. Behind him walked his two servants, Howel
+the Welshman, and his own countryman Perot.
+
+"Good day, Thane Kenric," said Richard the Scrob. "Good day, lords
+both, and to you, worshipful Munulf."
+
+"Ah! Good day, Richard Scrob's son."
+
+"Warm weather for November. A very Martin's summer," said Richard.
+
+"Aye," from Grim. "Oh, aye, right warm, this weather. It may become
+hot. It shall soon be hot for all Frenchmen!" he concluded savagely.
+
+Richard seemed unconscious of Grim's words and of their tone. He
+unfastened the bag from his belt, opened it, and surveyed the contents
+complacently. Oswin, the maltman's son, a weak-kneed, loose-lipped
+youth, gave a laboured imitation of the Norman's air of detachment, a
+few yards away.
+
+"Why, son," said Munulf, when he had finished guffawing at this
+specimen of his offspring's wit, "what bearest in thy bosom?" pointing
+to the opening at the neck of the lad's jerkin, where a small, dark
+head was seen to writhe.
+
+"Oh, it is my weasel," Oswin replied. "He harms me not, for I feed him,
+but others he biteth. There are some shall feel his fangs before Holy
+Martin's fair is out, I warrant you, my father!"
+
+"Here are the Moor folk at last. I shall sit down," Kenric announced
+portentously. He withdrew to the customary resort of thanes and great
+men on market-days, on holidays, and at all public functions held upon
+Ludford green--the huge elm whose boughs cast their shadow as far as
+the cattle-pen of Richard the Scrob. There he subsided upon a bench,
+and sent a serving-woman of the ale-wife's for beer.
+
+The green was now crowded with buyers and sellers of every degree. Grim
+and Munulf, who leant upon the hurdles surrounding Richard's exhibits,
+saw the throng before them part to release a procession of two thralls,
+four lean oxen, four women in riding-mantles, and three corpulent men
+who wore the grimy remains of once-fine garments, and had pretentiously
+heavy gold ornaments at their necks and about their wrists and fingers.
+Three of the women were comely and commonplace: the pleasant person of
+the fourth could not have failed to command attention in any
+surroundings. She was young, of moderate height, and generously built;
+she was small-featured, white skinned, blue-eyed, and her lips were
+full and wholesomely red. Over her head and the greater part of her
+figure was a hooded cloak, evidently new, of periwinkle-blue cloth; and
+upon her breast lay her hair in long plaits of that soft shade which is
+not golden, nor brown, nor chestnut, but all three, and has yet an
+ashen-silver haze upon its surface when the sun shines behind it. Her
+gown was black, and much the worse for wear, and at the base of her
+throat gleamed a bunch of the spindle-tree's pink berries, fastened in
+place with a silver pin.
+
+"Good day, or else good morrow, Ulwin," said Grim, scarcely attempting
+to veil the sneer in his voice. "Ye are late with your stock."
+
+"Late--aye!" panted the eldest, fattest, most showily-dressed of the
+newly arrived men. "Aye--late! All for women--hindered by women! I ask
+you, fellows, what should women do at fair or market, if they bring not
+wares to sell? Squander good money! Bedizen themselves to the nines!
+Would God that I had let thee from coming forth in thy prideful gear!"
+he snarled at her of the blue mantle. "Did I not say that thou wouldst
+seem no better than a tumbling-girl in the eyes of the folk? Dost thou
+mind that my brother lies in his grave?"
+
+Richard the Scrob's right hand closed upon the hurdle in a convulsive
+grasp.
+
+"It is five years since he died," said the woman.
+
+"Get behind me, and stay behind me, out of our way," said Ulwin. "See
+here, Alftrude, thou shalt not stir whence I now bid thee stand. I will
+not have thee waste our goods on womanish nothings. Geegaws and sweet
+foodstuffs, forsooth! What lacks the woman? Will she tell the world
+that we clothe her not nor board her?"
+
+She made no reply. For a moment she looked him full in the face: there
+was no reproach in her gaze, but only contempt and a spice of derision;
+then she turned and walked calmly, with unflushed cheeks, to join the
+other women in the background, and stood with them. The market-crowd
+surged all about them.
+
+"These are thine?" growled Ulwin to Richard, indicating the penned
+oxen.
+
+"Mine they were," answered Richard. "I sold them to Edmund the flesher
+of Worcester this morning, when the fair was but new-begun. But I have
+others, Ulwin Ednoth's son, if ye wish to buy."
+
+"Buy! Pah! no, not I! It is not of buying that I have to speak with
+thee, Richard."
+
+"Of what then, worthy thane?"
+
+"Indeed, it is not of buying that I have to speak with thee, Richard.
+Thou art learned in the law: because thou art so learned, the Lord
+Abbot deems thee worthy of his trust; but all thy cleverness could not
+teach thee.... How can I say, all-wise one, that thou didst not know?
+Well, the Lord Abbot knew not--aye, even I myself knew not--that
+Ashford, which thou callest thine, was not holden by us and by our
+father of the Abbot of Leominster, and that therefore neither the Abbot
+nor I might make over this land of Ashford to thee in exchange for ...
+such and so much cattle and silver ... two years ago."
+
+"Ashford is mine. I have set up a mill there, with the Abbot's
+licence."
+
+"Not thine, Richard the Scrob. I am Turstin of Wigmore's man for
+Ashford, and I may not go with it to any other lord;[15] and Turstin is
+wishful to uphold his right. As for thy mill ... well, thou hast made
+it, and there will be the tolls for me."
+
+          [15] He could not sell or convey it.
+
+"If there be any flaw in our dealings, then is it matter for the moot."
+
+"Now, understand me, thou!" shouted Ulwin, with a pompous gesture of
+the arms and an outward thrust of his swollen underlip. "That which
+thou hast tricked of me I will have again, yea, this day and this hour!
+Ulwin of the Moor is unwonted to waiting!"
+
+"Then, Ulwin, understand thou that Richard of Overton is unwonted to
+brook such words from any. At the bidding of none do I yield up mine
+own."
+
+Scarcely had Richard proclaimed his defiance than a thrill such as some
+much-desired presence imparts forced him to glance past the wrathful
+bully's left shoulder. The widow Alftrude was now close behind her
+brother-in-law, and studied the Scrob from head to foot with wide,
+wondering blue eyes.
+
+"I have nowise tricked you, Ednoth's son," said he, his countenance
+once more unperturbed. "Ye did chaffer with me for silver. This is
+matter for the hundredmen. They shall hear and try it."
+
+"Hearken, good neighbours, to the high and mighty words!" Ulwin jeered.
+"How will he speed when Englishmen are met together? Does he dream that
+their dooms are for the French?"
+
+"Come from here, now, master!" cried the high-pitched voice of
+Richard's servant Howel, in which agitation was patent. Ednoth, Ulwin's
+brother, pushed past Howel and jostled him roughly, in order to draw
+nearer to the two disputants. Howel flung up his head, his eyes
+kindling, and hissed an imprecation under his breath.
+
+"Hey? what hast thou there?" said Ulwin.
+
+"Nought, nought," Ednoth answered. "It is but a Welshman who bars my
+way."
+
+"No Welshman am I!" cried Howel the servant of Richard. "I am a man of
+Irchenfield--as good an Englishman as any of you here--and a better
+Englishman, too, than ye clumsy boors that think yourselves noblemen!
+When the King of the English marches with his army into Wales, we men
+of Irchenfield do go the foremost, that we may be the first to deal
+death, and----"
+
+"Do they dance in Irchenfield?" piped the maltman's son, as he shambled
+out of the crowd and swiftly inserted a furry object between the collar
+of Howel's jerkin and the back of his neck.
+
+"We shall soon see. Oh, merrily, right merrily--merrier and higher than
+in all Herefordshire else! On, on, brave Welshman! None here can hope
+to beat thee!"
+
+Loud was the spectators' laughter as the victim bounced up and down,
+shaking and tossing his limbs, and twisting his head and his body. When
+Richard had succeeded in dragging the weasel from out of his
+serving-man's garments, Howel rushed forward, bent on reprisal. Ednoth,
+the primary cause of the trouble, happened to be the person nearest: in
+a second Howel had him by the throat, and his short knife gleamed bare.
+
+Half a dozen bystanders instantly joined in the fray, most of them for
+the purpose of overwhelming the impudent Welshman of Irchenfield: in
+the midst of the turbulent knot were Ulwin, tugging at Ednoth's
+shoulders, and Richard, who held on to Howel by the arms and so
+compelled him to desist from stabbing at the Englishman.
+
+"Peace, thou fool!" cried Richard. "Leave be, now, Howel my man! I will
+not be embroiled for idle pride of thine. God's death! put up thy
+dagger!"
+
+Sullenly but promptly, Howel allowed his master to lead him out of the
+clutches of his assailants.
+
+"Peace, I beg of you, good men," the Norman continued. "We do but
+hinder the many that care not for our meaning. See, yon lady would come
+by!"
+
+The crowd had borne Alftrude away from her brother-in-law's side during
+the scuffle: she stood by the booth of a seller of gilded gingerbread,
+the nearest stall to the thanes' elmtree, a coin in one hand and two
+shining half-moons of cake in the other. Distaste and hesitancy were in
+the look she cast upon the brawlers.
+
+"Lady, fear not," said Richard. "If ye would but lean upon my arm----"
+
+Eagerly she moved towards him, in bland acceptance of his offer;
+however, before he could approach her, Ulwin had interposed himself,
+thundering:
+
+"Lay by yon nasty trash! Straight shalt thou wend thee homeward!
+Spendthrift! Shameless woman! Is this a widow's mourning? Is this
+modesty? Come home, I say!"
+
+He seized her by the arm, and in so doing trod heavily upon her toes.
+Alftrude's lips contracted, and her eyelids flickered with the pain,
+and she steadied herself against the gingerbread stall. Richard the
+Scrob was now beside them: with the first missile to hand, his own
+money-bag, he struck at the head of Ulwin; and Ulwin reeled and sat
+down upon the ground with a curse and a roar.
+
+"Foul clot of dirt!" said Richard. "I will not have thee deal so with
+her!"
+
+His money-bag was still in his right hand; but why was it no heavier
+than a strip of pigskin? Where was the reassuring weight to which he
+had grown used throughout that day?
+
+"Look, look!" the ale-wife screamed. "His ill-gotten silver of itself
+runs from him! Gather, gather, I say--it is his no more! All these
+French are to be driven forth. Shall he hoard king's coin in our land?"
+
+The well-worn bag had burst its seams, and pieces of money strewed the
+muddy ground.
+
+Thralls, boys, and children hurled themselves upon them; they
+struggled, fought, kicked and clawed up the mud, laughed ecstatically,
+and rushed about the green, each hugging what he had secured.
+
+The crimson faded from Richard's countenance, and he stood white as
+death and still as a stone. Alftrude hid her face in her hands.
+
+"Up, Ulwin!" exclaimed Ednoth. "Let us drive his cattle to Worcester
+for him--to Hereford--or to hell! Down with the Frenchman! Long life to
+Earl Godwin!"
+
+From under the elm stepped Ingelric the aged thane of Caynham, his
+beard half-covering his flowing moss-green robe.
+
+"No, no, it is unseemly!" he said. "Richard is my friend; he saved me
+once from debt and loss. If any man befriend me----"
+
+"Good folk," stuttered Kenric behind him, "this is more than a game! We
+are not thieves."
+
+But Ednoth and Grim had torn down the hurdles of the pen; the crowd had
+once more concentrated on that spot, and in another instant, shouting
+and shrieking, babbling and cheering, they chased and pelted the cattle
+of Richard the Scrob down Ludford street and out into the open country
+beyond.
+
+Alftrude had flung her arms about Ulwin. She seemed in a swoon: no, she
+was not fainting; her cheeks were aglow, and her finger-nails were
+embedded in her brother-in-law's neck.
+
+"Perot! Howel!" called Richard. "Come on, come on! To me!"
+
+The English, in their zeal for the dispersal of his cattle, had
+forgotten him. He ran between the outlying houses, followed by his
+servants, and upon the outskirts of the town they came face to face
+with the main body of the rabble, and drew their short swords.
+
+"Ere ye farther go," said Richard, "ye shall slay me and my men!"
+
+They bombarded the three with stones and dirt; a woman threw an egg,
+another hurled her market-basket with uncertain aim.
+
+"Tear him limb from limb!" snarled someone. "Surer rid of him so than
+by banishment!"
+
+Ednoth was advancing upon Richard, sword in hand.... There was a sudden
+hush, an awestruck murmur.
+
+"Lord Abbot! Lord Abbot!"
+
+"Hold your hands, in the Name of God and of His holy Church!" cried an
+imperious voice.
+
+Ednoth lowered his sword; the thanes uncovered their heads; many
+cowered, some stared resentfully; some slipped away in the tracks of
+the vanished cattle; the women fell on their knees. From the
+market-place came the Abbot of Leominster upon his fat white nag, with
+his chaplains and his retinue of men-at-arms riding behind him.
+
+"Ednoth of Moor, what would ye?" he demanded, flourishing the parchment
+roll that he carried in his bejewelled right hand.
+
+"Wherefore is the market all-to-wrecked? Would ye work murder upon
+harmless Ricardus here?"
+
+"Lord," said Ednoth, "here is a Frenchman who by craft sucketh the
+wealth from our land. Witanagemot is for putting an end to all such."
+
+"Indeed--and, Ednoth, art thou Witanagemot? Thou art too rash--ye are
+sadly unbridled, folk of Ludford. Hear the truth from me. There are
+surely many foreigners, Normans of the King's mother's people, who do
+craftily suck the wealth of England, and who bear not themselves truly
+towards blessed Edward our King; and Godwin and his Great Gemot have
+decreed that such shall go forth whither they came and leave the sway
+of England to Englishmen. But are there not some Normans, worthy
+fellows, whom no man could wish ill? Richard who dwells at Overton--has
+he not lived fifteen years among you, in good repute? In all
+Herefordshire is there no better dealer in corn and cattle: from
+Shrewsbury to Hereford is none more learned in the laws of English and
+of Welsh--none who can write a fairer hand--none of readier wit or
+smoother tongue: he hath been great help to me; how shall I spare him?
+Shall they bereave me of Ricardus? said I. I knelt before the King; I
+reasoned with stern Godwin; and ere I left London both had promised me
+my will. Yesterday the sheriff sent to me anent the outgoing of the
+French; and I have ridden since dawn, seeking Ricardus, that I might
+show him how Holy Church rewardeth goodwill for goodwill. Hugolin
+bideth about King Edward, they tell me, and Robert the Staller--they
+are faithful servants; as for the others, one Dumfrey--some outlandish
+name!... Hah! I have the sheriff's writing.... 'Banished be they all
+beyond seas, but Humfrey's Cocksfoot and Richard the Scrob.'"
+
+Richard bent to kiss the Abbot's ring.
+
+"Children, go your ways," the prelate continued, "with our blessing
+upon you. I rede you repent of your rashness. Ye are not robbers and
+rioters--no, but law-abiding English. Ricardus, come to me to-morrow
+morning: I have much to talk over with thee." So saving, he signed to
+his attendants, and ambled away.
+
+"My blessing, also, upon thee, worthy friend," a low voice said in
+Richard's ear.
+
+It was the blue-clad woman. Ulwin, with gashed forehead and scratched
+neck, was shepherding his kinsfolk in the direction of his abode.
+
+"Ashford shall be mine, O mighty Norman," said he with an exultant
+sneer. "Thy star is set, though abbots smile on thee."
+
+"Oh, Ulwin, brother!" exclaimed Alftrude--"oh, where is my silver
+bodkin? It is gone, Ulwin! And it was my mother's own! Can one have
+snatched it from me?"
+
+"Have ye seen it lying?" asked Richard of a group of persons lately
+come from the green.
+
+"What wouldst thou?" said Ulwin to Alftrude. "I bade thee leave the
+thing at home! Come on, thou spitfire--I will not wait."
+
+Old Ingelric hobbled up, and laid his hand upon Richard's arm.
+
+"Have no fear," he said. "Thou art not without friends. Though likely
+thou wilt not see thine oxen again, and who shall trace the coins----"
+
+Richard shook himself free.
+
+"The rogue who stole her pin!" he cried--"I will split his head also!"
+
+
+The grey cob plodded and splashed through the stream of slushy mud and
+half-thawed snow which represented the descending track from Ulwin's
+dwelling of the Moor to the highway between Ludford and Leominster.
+Upon him was Alftrude, closely muffled in a grey felt mantle, and
+beside him, holding the bridle, splashed and floundered a bare-legged
+boy, the bondman's son, with alder-clogs upon his feet. Alftrude rode
+in some discomfort, perched astride upon a man's saddle: her right arm
+supported a big wicker basket. The December sun shone out
+self-assertively: nevertheless the child slapped his free hand
+continually against his thigh, and often blew ruefully upon the fingers
+that clasped the reins. The widow, however, paid no heed to the moist
+chill of the morning air. Every now and again she glanced behind her.
+Once, in the shelter of the grove of hollies, she stopped for a moment
+to listen. There was no sound but the purring of a brook beneath its
+perforated covering of ice. She urged on her stolid steed.
+
+As they reached the heath, they heard the scrunch of a horse's hooves
+upon the ground they had just traversed. Alftrude turned her head
+nonchalantly; then she smote the cob such a sudden blow with her whip
+that the boy stumbled, and stared up into his mistress's face, aghast.
+About twenty paces more, and the Norman came up with her, riding alone.
+He would have passed her with "Good day to you, lady!" but she called:
+"Friend, stay awhile!" and he reined in his horse and proceeded beside
+her.
+
+"Master Richard," said she, "I would thank you meetly, if I could, for
+your great and neighbourly kindness, and beg forgiveness of you for
+that I have not myself done so until now. My mother's pin is the
+dearest of all my few possessions. Tell me, how came it into your
+hands?"
+
+"If ye be content, madame, I am honoured," said Richard. "It was no
+matter. The maltman's dunderhead son passed it about the ale-house that
+night. They gave it up when I did call for it."
+
+(This was not true. When Richard had seized the trinket from the thief,
+the ale-house company had fallen on him to a man, and had rolled
+ten-deep upon him about the floor, until their sense of fair-play had
+obliged them to draw off.)
+
+Alftrude was smiling her slow, comfortable smile. Could she--the gleam
+in her eyes seemed one of admiration--could she have heard what had
+really befallen?
+
+"I was like to weep when I saw it again," said she.
+
+They had reached the steepest slope of the hill. Richard the Scrob
+dismounted.
+
+"I will carry the basket," said he. "And I will lead your horse
+heredown. Let yon lad take mine. Whither make ye?" he continued, when
+the boy had fallen behind with his new charge. "Madame, I think ye
+should not fare abroad by such a slippery road and in such fickle
+weather."
+
+"I must to Ludford," she answered. "What think ye of this? There are
+seven young children at home, and in the house no spices nor dried
+grapes to make them Yuletide broth or Yuletide cake, and the housewife
+will not send any for these! Yet our bairns must have their Christmas
+fare like other bairns! so I am for Hildred the ale-wife, who has such
+sweet stuffs to sell." But even as she enlarged upon her purpose, her
+cheeks blushed red.
+
+"It is shameful!" said he, and his tone was full of warmth. "I like not
+their dealings with you, these kinsmen of your former lord!"
+
+"Good friend," said Alftrude, "how wilt thou do now? Thy cattle--thy
+money--the best of all thy gear! Great thy loss that evil market-day!
+Indeed I am abashed by the folk with whom I dwell!"
+
+"Why, I must stint and save, that is all. It will be no new thing--so
+have I done all the days of my life. When I first came over to join the
+train of Ralf the Earl, I had nothing but two silver pieces, my pen and
+inkhorn, and my wits. That was fifteen years ago.... They have been
+lonely years in England since Idonea died."
+
+"She was your wife?"
+
+"Idonea was my wife. She was of Bayeux--daughter of Robert the deacon.
+I had her but two years in this misty island. A short sickness bore her
+off."
+
+"Alack, alack! that is piteous!"
+
+"She fretted ever for Normandy. I think it was as well she died."
+
+Alftrude eyed him gravely, reflectively. Suddenly she shook with silent
+laughter.
+
+"Oh! oh!" she cried when she had recovered her voice, in answer to his
+manifest surprise, "ye would have laughed, Son of Scrob, had ye seen a
+sight that mine eyes beheld three nights ago. Know that Ulwin will ever
+have the swine and the fowls to wander in and out of the house, as they
+were mankind, that they may eat up the scraps of food which he throweth
+by among the rushes. Upon that night, my husband's mother and I had
+gone aloft with the maidens, when a mad hubbub arose--Ulwin shouting,
+threatening, praying--with such grunts and shrieks besides, ye would
+have thought the Fiend himself was there. We hurried down, and there
+stood my good brother, smiting upon his bed with a flail as strongly as
+his quaking hand would let him--and the fattest pig tangled in the
+covering of fat Ulwin's bed!"
+
+"Oh, gladsome sight!" exclaimed Richard. "Ye did work havoc upon that
+same Ulwin that day at the fair? Indeed I think I owe my life to a
+lady's finger-nails!"
+
+"Ye had avenged his roughness with me," she answered. "And I saw him
+rise to fall upon you."
+
+By this time they had emerged upon the highroad; and now there passed
+them two nuns riding sleek mules, and two serving-men, mounted also.
+
+"There goes Burghild of Caynham," said Alftrude. "It is now five years
+since she took her holy oaths. I would not be she for all the
+world--though, heaven wot! a nun's life is a peaceful life!"
+
+"There is peace to be found where no nuns are, lady."
+
+"Know ye her story, Richard Scrob's son? She is the thane of Caynham's
+daughter, and Godric the brother of Athelstane of Berrington loved her
+dearly, and she him. But his lands were small and barren, and he could
+offer her no fitting home, or so he thought. He would take service with
+some great lord, and store what wealth the saints might send him, that
+he might make yon maiden his wife. They met twice or thrice in the
+year, and I am sure each read the other's mind; but he never told her
+of his love and of his hopes. And she pined for him, and grew pale, and
+tart of mood. Godric went out with Earl Sweyn against the Welsh king,
+and was slain by the Welshmen. When Burghild heard these tidings, she
+fell sick of sorrow, even nigh unto death; but she is brave; she clung
+to life, and now she is the Church's bride. Oh, sad that lack of goods
+should sunder two true hearts!"
+
+"How could he speak, being a man without wealth?" said Richard. "He
+might not speak." He would not look at her.
+
+"He should have spoken," said Alftrude softly.
+
+"Now, as for these swine indeed, thy kinsmen----" cried he.... "Pardon
+my rough speech, Lady Alftrude; but I have marked how they treat
+you--you who were their brother's wife--better born than they, and
+better nurtured. As the dirt underfoot! Must ye abide beneath their
+roof? Is there none other with whom ye might dwell?"
+
+"My brother is a thane about the King's court. I have not set eyes on
+him for many a year. I have no other brother and no sister."
+
+"It is many a day since I have wondered how ye bore with them."
+
+"Since ye press me, Richard, I will own that my lot is hard. I have
+been widowed these five years. Since Winge my husband died, the land
+and goods with which he left me--aye, and mine own goods which I
+brought him--I may not call mine own. The first they till and order as
+they will, and the yield thereof they put with the yield of their land.
+As for the goods, they all lay hands upon them with never a 'by your
+leave' to me! Ulwin would have sold my mirror of steel last week, but I
+hid it.... Richard Scrob's son, there are two of thine oxen among the
+cattle at the Moor. At least, I am sure I saw them at Martin's Fair
+within thy pen."
+
+"Let them be. I have enemies enough at this time. To claim your goods!
+To sell your mirror!"
+
+"They grudge me this my new cloak," Alftrude continued, drawing a fold
+of periwinkle blue from beneath her winter wrapping. "True, it is not
+of my weaving; but mine own corn did I sell to buy the cloth. I believe
+they grudge me my mother's own jewels! Ulwin, and Alward, and Ednoth,
+and their mother, and the wives of the three. There would be no
+pleasure for any but Ulwin, if he could have his way: others must
+scrape and lack for him. A bad husbandman, too, is Ulwin. Men will give
+him but little for his crops and cattle. And that little leaves his
+poke that he may feast and game, and bet on sparring-cocks. But I think
+the women are the worst to dwell with."
+
+"And the housewife--your husband's mother? Has she no kindness for
+thee, who wert wife to her son?"
+
+"We were childless, Winge and I."
+
+"By holy Stephen! it is a weary life ye tell me of!"
+
+"I am well wonted to such weariness. I am four and twenty. A great age,
+Richard."
+
+"Madame, I am thirty-two, and I think that the sweetest of my life is
+yet before me."
+
+"Here is Ludford. Now, God speed you, lord," said she, holding out her
+hand to him. The next instant she withdrew it in confusion, exclaiming:
+"I know not why I clepe you lord!"
+
+"I know," said Richard, and took her hand. "Alftrude, I will see to it
+that thou become a very great lady."
+
+
+From the thicket bordering the pathway proceeded gasping, panting,
+maudlin complaints, and thickly-uttered curses; then came the sound of
+a feeble struggle as though a heavy body strove vainly to extricate
+itself from glutinous, liquescent soil. Richard the Scrob got down from
+his horse, handed the reins to Perot, who walked beside him, and strode
+in among the alders. The light of the sinking moon revealed a man lying
+face downwards, his legs submerged in a marshy pool, his hands clinging
+to a tuft of rushes. Having chosen a firm foothold, Richard seized the
+unfortunate by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him on to more or
+less solid ground. The bloated visage, streaming with mud, was just
+recognizable as that of Ulwin of the Moor.
+
+"Oh, oh--ah--oh!" he blubbered. "I am a dead man! Drowned dead--frozen
+to the inwards! One had bewitched the accursed nag that she might throw
+me!"
+
+Richard heard a horse cropping the wet fern a little distance away. He
+captured the offending animal without difficulty, and gave it into the
+care of his servant. Then he approached Ulwin once more, and took him
+by the arm in order to help him to his feet.
+
+"Dost thou dare?" cried the Englishman, striking aimlessly in the
+direction of his rescuer's chin. "I have no gold upon me--nought upon
+me! Murder! Murder by our lord the King's highway! Fellow, I am a
+thane, and my wergild a thane's wergild--twelve hundred shillings
+worth!"
+
+"No robber am I. Ulwin, I am Richard of Overton. Ye have known me this
+many a year--I am Richard the Scrob."
+
+"Scrob? Scrob? Eh, what is Scrob?" said the thane of the Moor. "Oh,
+aye--I mind--thou art the Frenchman--Richard--neighbour Richard. Well,
+Richard, my old nag tossed me off--bewitched is she, the jade! And
+Alward and Ednoth and the others--to hell with them for selfish churls!
+they rode on and left me here--would not wait for me--rode on and left
+me lying here.... I called--I called! Wending home from Wigmore....
+Cakes and ale had we--good eating and drinking at Wigmore, Richard....
+Left me here to drown! What think ye of that?"
+
+"Belike they missed thee not!" replied the other grimly. "Here is your
+horse. Try to get upon her. I think your bones are whole."
+
+Ulwin remained sitting in the mud.
+
+"Wa--la! wa--la!" He was weeping again now. "Wa-la-la and woe the day!
+Beggared am I and all undone! They set two worthy cocks to fight....
+Oh, a fair sight to see them at war! When all around would wager upon
+them, how might I not do likewise? One hundred shillings have I lost to
+the men of Wigmore! And, Richard, I am burdened with debt: one hundred
+and forty shillings in all do I owe among my neighbours. I must sell
+myself into thralldom--my wife--my hapless bairns! Let me flee the
+shire...."
+
+Richard brought a leather wallet from beneath his mantle.
+
+"No need," said he. "See here," and he unfastened the string which
+closed the wallet.
+
+"What?" shouted Ulwin, scrambling to his knees. "Money? Money? How
+comest thou by money? Art surely a sorcerer--a warlock--leagued with
+Satan and all his devils! Why, it is not three years since we--since
+thy cattle was driven loose and thy silver scattered and lost beneath
+the feet of Ludford folk!... Richard Scrob's son--good neighbour----"
+
+"Now, cease thy whimpering of a dog, Ulwin of Moor, if man thou be,"
+said Richard. "Shalt not sell thyself for debt. One hundred and forty
+shillings--such shalt thou borrow of me.... Nay, not now. At thine own
+dwelling, in the afternoon.... Give me Alftrude thy brother's widow to
+wife: that she will have me I know well. Half thy brother's
+morning-gift to her of land shalt thou keep; and if within ten years
+from this day thou owe me still that which I do pledge me here and now
+to lend thee, I will take again Ashford and its mill. They were truly
+holden of the Abbot, all the time."
+
+
+"So they have crowned French William at Westminster?" said Ulwin.
+
+"Aye, so was I told by one of Harold's men who came alive through
+Senlac slaughter," Grim replied. "This William is a stark man, they
+say; but he has sworn to abide by our old laws."
+
+The men of mark were gathered about Ludford elm. It was a warm, misty
+day in February. There was a fair upon the green for the sale of
+chickens, ducks, and geese.
+
+"I do think that these be lying tidings," said Tori the priest of
+Ludford. "Two kings dead within a year, and English and Welsh at peace
+in Herefordshire! I will believe there is such a William when I have
+set eyes upon him, and in the deaths of kings when I see kings lying
+dead. I am a stickler for the good old ways: I do not waste my prayers
+upon an unknown outlander, but beseech heaven for Edward and for his
+Lady as I have been wont all the days of my life!"
+
+"Under seven kings have I dwelt," Ingelric the ancient murmured
+dreamily. "First Ethelred, then Sweyn, then Canute. Canute was a Dane,
+but a better man than Ethelred. Then Harefoot, then Hardicanute, then
+Edward whom they call the Blessed. Well, well, peace to his soul! There
+were no more righteous folk in England after his crowning than before.
+And so the son of Godwin is cast down and slain! It is a little thing,
+children, where or of whom a king be born, if so be he govern strongly
+and wisely."
+
+"Now, Childe Edric, what say ye to this?" cried Ulwin of the Moor.
+
+"Father Ingelric, ye know that my mind is quite other," said a hoarse,
+far-carrying voice. The speaker, a weather-tanned young man, with
+bright grey eyes and a resolute chin, bent towards Ulwin and whispered:
+
+"The poor old man--he doteth!"
+
+"A fair tide for the ploughing," Kenric's elephantine tact prompted him
+to observe. "I think there will be no more frost nor snow."
+
+"We have one Norman here," said Ulwin to Edric. "Spared when the others
+were banished, through the might of the greedy Abbot. He has the
+Fiend's own luck. Frost and snow! I would the earth were ice-bound for
+his sake! I would the frost would shatter his plough-shares! I would he
+might drop dead as doth a sparrow!"
+
+"Richard is a good fellow," Ingelric interjected stubbornly. "And one
+king is much as another king."
+
+"Is it nothing to you all," cried Edric the Wild, "that England shall
+be no more England, but Normandy? What of Harold, our King and our Earl
+of late, and his bloody end? Must we all bow to the robber, because the
+men of the South loved their harvest-beer better than their
+motherland?"
+
+"We are free English!" said one; and another: "What shall we do?"
+
+"We have our hills and our woodlands," Edric continued. "When William
+sends his warriors amongst us, we will lead them jack-o'-lantern's
+dance, and utterly undo them. My men are all armed and ready to come
+forth whensoever I bid them; and I have the word of the Welsh lords
+that they will give us help."
+
+"If Howel of Irchenfield were here," Kenric remarked ruminatively, "he
+would tell you to put no trust in the word of a Welshman. And Howel is
+right: they do never cleave to us, though time and again have they
+sworn faith and truth unto our kings. And I have not seen Howel this
+day...."
+
+"Howel, Richard's man, say ye?" panted the ale-wife, as she deposited
+mugs of beer before two of her customers. "Howel passed the ford three
+weeks ago, or nearer four. I know not whither he went."
+
+"Richard also crossed over this day at dawn," said Munulf the maltman,
+"and with him his firstborn boy. They took the road to Stretton."
+
+"Hey? it is not like Richard to miss the fair," said Ulwin. "I see
+bondmen of his who watch his wares."
+
+"But not the goodwife?" said Kenric. "How not? She loves the mirth of
+the market."
+
+"Why, he liketh not that Alftrude bestir herself overmuch, or rub
+shoulders with all and sundry," answered Ulwin contemptuously. "Treats
+her as she were the Mother of God herself, or a queen at the least. And
+they have been wed eleven years!"
+
+"I met some of his men yesterday upon the heath," said Grim, "all
+mud-bespattered and outworn. What hath he now in hand, Ulwin?"
+
+"Pah! who can tell? He hath fetched a swarm of accursed
+foreigners--smiths and wrights--from overseas, and he must keep them
+busy. There is ever some new-fangled hewing or digging. He set a
+yew-hedge in the fall, ye know; and they say he will have a fish-pond."
+
+"Here is friend Richard," said Ingelric, "and the little lad also."
+
+Richard appeared upon the green, on horseback, accompanied by his son
+Osbern, aged ten, who rode a pony. Having tethered their mounts to two
+of a row of posts beside the ale-house door, they made their way to the
+elm-tree. The years had been generous towards Richard the Scrob. He was
+better clothed and shod than formerly, more serene, less spare. Osbern,
+the eldest of his children, had his father's firm mouth and his
+mother's clear blue eyes.
+
+"Greeting," said Ulwin, with an uneasy leer. "We talk of thee,
+neighbour, as a great man and a wealthy. Shouldst thank me for Alftrude
+and what she brought thee, which latter did surely set thee on thy
+feet."
+
+"Nay, Ulwin, surely I did set thee once upon thy feet, with timely
+loan. Hast thou forgotten, also, that I have had no answer from thee to
+a question I put to thee above a year and four months ago?"
+
+"What mean ye? Say all that ye mean aloud, in the ears of these thanes,
+and let them judge between thee and me!" Ulwin's brain was slow, but he
+rightly guessed that an explicit reply would follow, for Richard's love
+of litigation was notorious.
+
+"Thou knowest that I speak of Ashford, which wrongfully thou keepest
+from me, and of the hundred and forty shillings which thou borrowedst."
+
+"Thou knowest, and all here know, that Ashford is mine, holden of
+Turstin as lord," said Ulwin.
+
+"Turstin is not lord of that land; the Abbot is lord thereof indeed,
+and by the Abbot's leave did it pass from thee to me. And I did pay thy
+gaming-losses; and thou gavest me Alftrude my dear wife, and half of
+the land she had as thy brother's widow. I did swear to let thee be in
+Ashford for ten years, and thou to give it up to me when ten years were
+run, or to repay me the sum of my lending in gold."
+
+"Not so," said Ulwin. "I agreed with thee for Alftrude and half of her
+morning-gift from Winge. Why should she take more with her when she
+went from us to wed a needy foreigner?"
+
+"I have thy mark which thou settedst to the bond I wrote."
+
+"I made no mark. I saw no bond."
+
+"There is Ednoth's mark thereon, beneath thine own."
+
+"Say, brother Ednoth, have I pledged all this to Richard the Scrob by
+tongue or by pen?"
+
+"I know nought of it," answered Ednoth.
+
+Richard thrust his hands into his belt. The faintest possible shadow of
+a smile lurked at the corners of his lips. For a second his glance
+wandered absently to the rocky hill of Lude[16] which towered above
+Ludford on the farther bank of the Teme where that river turned
+northward to join the Corve, and for a fraction of a second rested upon
+the narrow track straggling round the southern side of the hill and
+descending steeply to the ford.
+
+          [16] Now Ludlow.
+
+"Bring witnesses to my mark and Ednoth's!" cried Ulwin with a gobbling
+laugh. "Bring witnesses to the Abbot's right! The hundredmen will laugh
+thee to scorn. This Richard is a liar, friends: guilt hath sapped his
+boldness, or wealth and good-living, belike; he who was wont to be so
+ready with his fists now quails before an Englishman. What, dost thou
+smile? Aha, thou thinkest on the Frenchman at Westminster! What deemest
+thou we shall make of thy Duke?"
+
+"What ye will, I doubt not," said Richard. "I am for law and order." He
+seated himself upon a root of the elm, and leant against the trunk.
+Every now and again he scanned what could be seen of the winding road
+about the hill of Lude.
+
+"Hear me once more," said Edric the Wild. "Ye should make ready against
+aught that may befall while these your fruitful acres are your own and
+all unscathed. The tyrant hath left his spoor of fire and steel from
+the South Saxon land to London town.... Why, Gunwert of Mereston! What
+tidings? Steady, man--drink first, speak after!"
+
+A weary, speechless man dropped from his horse to Edric's feet.
+
+"They come!" he gasped, when he had swallowed a mouthful of beer.
+"Sighted beyond Stretton.... From Shrewsbury ... in their
+hundreds--fully armed!"
+
+Richard, deep in the shadow of the tree, took the boy Osbern's hand and
+drew him down beside him.
+
+"Hasten, all!" shouted Edric, quivering with eagerness. "To every
+homestead where be weapons--tools--what ye can find! Hasten, hasten!
+Ride--gather your men together! We will beat them back at the ford."
+
+All were on their feet, all running--every thane, every churl, every
+thrall. Some dashed into houses and sheds, and bore thence sickles,
+scythes, axes, picks, shovels, and mattocks, and ancient rust-caked
+weapons; some seized the horses tethered by the ale-house door and
+sprang upon them. Richard, still holding Osbern by the hand, entered
+the town in the midst of the first contingent of those who remained on
+foot.
+
+"They have taken our horses," he whispered. "Silence now--we must not
+move nor breathe!"
+
+The maltman's barn opened on to Ludford Street, and they slipped within
+and hid between the outer wall and a rampart of odorous sacks. Edric
+drove the whole body of his compatriots out into the open. After a
+quick consultation with Ingelric, he set off with the old man on the
+shortest route to Caynham. Some made towards Ashford, some towards the
+Moor. A few splashed through the ford over which the grey waters of the
+Teme glided in their winter flood.
+
+An hour passed; another hour; the second hour after noon began. Richard
+was still in the maltman's storehouse, scarcely stirring from the post
+he had originally taken up, listening intently to every sound that
+penetrated from without. Osbern had perched himself upon a sack by his
+father's side, as motionless except for his fingers, about which he
+twined a piece of string in cat's cradle pattern. The voices of women
+reached them, the laughter of children, the swirl of water among the
+roots of the willows. Falling cobwebs powdered these two with dingy
+flakes; conflicting currents of air made the malt-dust dance all around
+them; they heard the patter of rats' feet, the dogged gnawing of a
+mouse. Suddenly a woman shrieked in terror----
+
+"Yonder--see yonder! Horsemen! horsemen! Yonder the death of us all! My
+man--where is he? Gone--left me here helpless! The Frenchmen! The
+Frenchmen!"
+
+Panic seized the women of Ludford (there were some twenty of them):
+tearful, voluble, or outwardly composed, they carried, dragged, drove
+their children up the street, across the green, and out of the town, in
+frantic search of masculine protection.
+
+Richard and Osbern stepped stiffly out into the street, brushing their
+garments as they went. Yes, there they were, the horsemen, filing along
+the hill-side track. The apathetic sun of late winter lent a sulky
+radiance to lance, mace, and scabbard, ringed hauberk, conical helm,
+and kite-shaped shield. Nearer they came--sixty in all, Richard
+guessed. The cavalcade appeared at the farther end of the street:
+men-at-arms, pursuivants, knights, esquires, and, behind his banner,
+riding alone, William fitzOsbern, Earl of Hereford and Lord of
+Breteuil, in the full splendour of vigorous manhood.
+
+"Seignior!" cried Richard the Norman--"Seignior, faictes grace a moy,
+qui suys de vostre sang!"
+
+William fitzOsbern threw an amused glance at a forgotten cobweb that
+adhered to the speaker's head.
+
+"Mort Dex!" said he. "Whom have we here?"
+
+"Richard of Overton, son of Hugh, son of Osbern, son of Walter of Rye
+in the Cotentin, where my nephew is now lord. Sir Count, the mother of
+my grandsire was cousin and nurse unto Herfast your own father's
+father, and unto noble Dame Gunnore his sister, spouse of our then
+Duke."
+
+"Thou art the Scrope. I have heard of thee. One named Perot spoke of
+thee with the King at Westminster; and that British fellow of
+thine--Howel they call him--guides the company of Ralph de Mortemar
+behind us upon the road. I have pressed on with another to conduct me,
+for I would reach the city of Hereford as soon as may be."
+
+"Seignior, I have dwelt for twenty years within your county that now
+is," said Richard, dropping on one knee, "and I pray of you justice and
+your puissant aid! The rascal English do me wrong, and they will not
+consider my cause, for I stand alone. One Ulwin invades certain of my
+lands and a mill which I myself set up beside the river: he first
+exchanged this Ashford for money and cattle of mine, then pleaded his
+no-right to sell."
+
+He paused. FitzOsbern had half-turned in his saddle and was surveying
+the rugged hill of Lude upon the other side of the ford.
+
+"What a rock of defence!" he exclaimed. "Careless fools to let it stand
+unfortified!... Well, I did look for thee to come to greet us; but
+alone? and--toil-stained, is it? I have seen no rascal English
+hereabouts. This seems a village dead or sleeping. Are ye the only
+persons here alive, thou and one child?"
+
+"News of your coming has reached these English, my lord, and they
+believe that your purpose is to spoil their homesteads, and so they are
+gone without into the country, gathering together all able men for
+resistance. Wild Edric of Clun was here but now, at work upon their
+fears. Though they be mostly on foot, and their weapons be rusty, they
+are more than we, and might bar your road to Hereford. Come with me, I
+pray you: on yonder hill I have a strong house, where ye, aye, and all
+these, may be safe."
+
+"Joyously will we partake of thine hospitality, good Richard, for an
+hour or so, although our march be thereby delayed. Thy Howel, I know,
+will lead Ralph de Mortemar to thy very door. Say, who is the lad? Son
+of thine, I wager."
+
+"My eldest son, so please you. Osbern, stand forth."
+
+"Hah! Osbern fitzRichard, how sayest thou?
+
+"Wilt thou serve my lady in bower and at board until such time as thou
+be old enough to ride with me into battle?"
+
+"Assurement, mon seignior!" replied the child, upon his knee beside his
+father in a moment. His French had the thick accent of an Englishman.
+
+FitzOsbern smiled down upon him.
+
+"Shalt learn more gracious French," said he, "but not more gracious
+manners. Well, let us be going."
+
+"Seignior," said one of the esquires, "I hear the tramp of many feet,
+but no voices at all."
+
+"The English!" cried William, and Richard the Scrob sprang to his feet.
+"They think to surprise us. It were best parley with them in the open,
+in peaceable guise. Boy, I will carry thee behind me."
+
+Osbern clambered on to the Earl's steed.
+
+"Sir, have I your leave?" asked Richard of Sir Walter de Lacy, who rode
+on the left of his master. Lacy nodded, and instantly Richard was
+astride behind him. He had scarcely mounted, when a strange, seething
+hiss resounded from one side of the street, and above their heads.
+Another hiss, and another: a splutter, then a crackle; and the thatch
+of the maltman's dwelling, which adjoined his barn, burst into
+steadily-spreading flame.
+
+"O Mary! happy thought!" they heard in the fatuous tones of the
+maltman's son Oswin. "Hem them right well about, and watch them cook
+alive!"
+
+"Thank God for burning pitch!" and in the indignant voice of Grim:
+
+"Thou oaf! Would thou had been born dumb! We had them snared!"
+
+A horse neighed shrilly; the other horses echoed the warning sound.
+
+"Quick, ere terror benumb them!" the Earl shouted. "Right about--a dash
+for it!"
+
+A bucketful of hot pitch streamed from one roof, hot charcoal cinders
+showered from another; some one flung a lighted torch. Another thatch
+was already on fire. The English were formed in a thin ring all round
+Ludford. The Norman charge scattered those at the bottom of the street,
+and the horsemen poured out.
+
+"Follow me!" cried Richard. "I know a way to baffle them. Ride,
+sirs--ride as ye were devils!"
+
+Edric of Clun, on horseback, planted himself in fitzOsbern's way with
+menacing gesture; William hurled his truncheon, hit him on the head,
+and sent him tumbling from his saddle. Ednoth clung like a vice to
+Richard's legs for some yards, and was thrown to the ground, and
+trampled by many hurrying hooves. The few mounted English tried
+valiantly to intercept the trained cavalry, but were unhorsed or put to
+flight.
+
+"To Richard's hall!" shouted Ulwin, from the background, where he was
+making tentative passes in the air with an antique sword. "Overton!
+Overton! Fire! Burn! Torches, I say--bring torches! Come on, all of
+you! Come, burn his house to the ground!"
+
+The Earl and his men had rallied to Richard the Scrob, who called and
+signalled to them from Walter de Lacy's crupper. He headed straight for
+the forest of Haye.
+
+"Warily now," said he. "There is much bogland."
+
+He led them westward, skirting swamps, threading apparently
+impenetrable thickets, with scarcely a pause. They could hear faintly
+the voices of a few Englishmen who cursed as they wandered among the
+briary undergrowth. The hindmost of the Normans looked back and saw
+Ludford flaming, crumbling, and falling into ruins.
+
+"It is mine own secret path," their guide announced. "Verily, mon
+seignior, I have prepared for your coming."
+
+They left the forest behind them, and rode through the hamlet of
+Overton.
+
+"Look yonder!" said Richard, pointing to the grey gleam of a stone
+rampart among the trees surrounding his mansion.
+
+"What is this?" laughed the Earl. "Have ye licence from King William to
+erect a castle within his realm?"
+
+"I am King William's loyal subject," the Scrob replied. "Of a
+certainty, our King will not grudge a timely shelter to his Earl."
+
+A curtain-wall, roughly but strongly compacted of quarried stone, of
+wood, and of rubble, surrounded and concealed the timber dwelling of
+Richard and Alftrude; at the western end of the enclosure the
+unfinished keep loomed upon its mount; and about them both an
+eight-foot moat was drawn.
+
+"The keep as well!" cried fitzOsbern. "Oh, guileful notion, to colour
+it with pitch! Only the hawk-eyed may spy it from the valley, for the
+foliage embowers it--and, man, ye can surely keep watch therefrom for
+many a mile!"
+
+At a blast from Richard's horn, the drawbridge was lowered, and several
+Normans in his service appeared upon the threshold, mail-clad and fully
+armed.
+
+"It was four weeks building, under Geoffrey of Rouen," said Richard,
+"and the moat was digging thirteen days more. I have engines of war
+within, and great store of missiles of stone. Enter, bel sire. They
+will not find it easy to burn this my dwelling about my head."
+
+"Let the peasants come!" said William fitzOsbern. "They must learn to
+know their masters; but please the saints! we shall not need to take
+the lives of many. Perchance the sweet peers of heaven may send that
+Mortemar find us before long.... Cousin, thou hast a pleasant view from
+thy fortress, even through such a narrow peephole. H'm! Rich
+forfeitures for our sovereign Lord! Thou shalt trouble thyself no more,
+cousin Richard, concerning lands and mills and cheating Saxons. As far
+and as wide as eye can see, from the sky that is our Lord God's
+footstool unto Satan's fires in the centre of earth, this same pleasant
+country shall be thine own, in reward for this day's fealty and
+service, and so I, William of Hereford and Breteuil, promise thee in
+the name of the King.... Nay, no thanks: kneel but one moment
+longer.... It is meet, sirs, is it not, that our leader in this
+engagement should hold the honourable rank of chevalier? We will
+account this a field of battle. Rise up, Sir Richard fitzHugh le
+Scrope!"
+
+
+The next morning, when the Earl of Hereford had gone his way, and the
+bodies of the only two Englishmen slain by Ralph de Mortemar's rescuing
+party had been borne to burial, the new lord of the Moor, of Ashford,
+of Ludford, and of Stanage rode out to display the extent and resources
+of his manors to his astonished lady. Their itinerary ended, they stood
+in the evening outside the moat and gazed at the placid, billowing
+country beneath them. Although by the cold, saffron light of a February
+sunset the misty course of the Teme was the only certain landmark and
+it was hard to distinguish meadow and ploughland, pasture and forest,
+they had to feast their eyes until the last glimmer faded.
+
+"With right tillage," said Richard, "it should yield me thrice its
+yearly value in grain. And I will have yet more sheep, and yet more
+cattle: there is now place for four times as many as ever I bred.... I
+have made thee great and famous, as I promised; and Osbern, with the
+Earl to favour him, should be an even greater lord than I.... Our
+fishpond shall go forward upon the morrow. What sayest thou to an
+orchard yonder, planted with apples of Normandy? and I think that
+Gascon vines would ripen passably upon our southern slope. O Alftrude,
+thou knowest how I have loved and pondered this land this many a year;
+and we shall have great profit of it, ma belle, thou and I together."
+
+Alftrude dwelt at Richard's Castle well content; for, as she sometimes
+observed when she looked round upon her flocks, her herds and her
+horses, her orchards, her cornfields, her vineyards, her chickens,
+ducks and geese, her hounds and her falcons, her fishpond, her smooth
+green lawn, her yew-tree alley, her doves and her peacocks, and her
+band of healthy children, there was no reason at all why she should not.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Star of Mercia, by Blanche Devereux
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