The Last of the Vikings Part 18

"I fear me, Sir Knight, if you undertake so desperate an enterprise as this, with success, it will require matchless skill and daring, coupled with deadliest peril. I fear, also, it will have to be a sharp sword that severs so unholy and hated a bond."

Alice hesitated a moment, as though feelings of delicacy forbade farther advances; then, although the blushes on her countenance deepened, she said,--

"Having confided so much of the story of my sorrows--I fear at the peril of my modesty--may I venture farther confidence?"

"I dare not ask you for confidences you hesitate to give, fair lady, for I am deeply conscious my worthiness to receive them has not been put to the proof. Consult your own heart in this, for it is your best and safest guide."

"I think I may safely venture everything, and trust you, Saxon, even to the uttermost and with all my heart. This involves my father's secret, and his deadly peril also, for this Vigneau has obtained a fatal ascendency over him. He holds doc.u.ments most compromising to my father, in addition to the promise given long ago; and which my father might possibly have revoked with impunity had not Vigneau obtained possession of these treasonable doc.u.ments. These he uses with brutal terrorism to enforce his claim to my hand. In an unhappy moment my father entered into negotiations with the leaders of the late Saxon rebellion, and he made use of Baron Vigneau as his intermediary. The Baron never delivered those letters, but with brutal cunning he still holds them, and he uses them with deadly effect to enforce his claims."

"Ah! I have a distinct remembrance of this," said Oswald, as the memorable scene at the Council, in York, presented itself to his mind.

"I remember too well this traitor entering our a.s.sembly, under pretext of joining our ranks in opposition to the king; and I remember well, also, I met him face to face in combat next day, and 'tis a quarrel still unsettled, but which may be fought to the bitter end some day.

Take heart, lady; some means will a.s.suredly be devised for circ.u.mventing the purposes of this unscrupulous braggart, Vigneau. But if this should not be accomplished by human agency, I would fain think and hope, if the wisdom and the valour of man should fail, a kindly Providence has in store a happier lot for one so fair, so virtuous, and so good. Let us foster hopes of brighter days; these are troublous times, and one revolution of Fortune's wheel may bring momentous changes. Perhaps the asperities and hatreds of race, engendered by these cruel wars, may be soothed and healed again, and Saxon and Norman may be blended in one united people."

"Alas! can this ever be? My people seem drunk with greed and blood, and thy people given to fierce reprisals."

"This reconciliation does not seem as though it were near, truly, lady.

Our peasantry have been ma.s.sacred by scores. The more spirited of them have taken to outlawry, and would as soon take the life of a Norman as the life of a stag. We have also chieftains amongst us who have lost all, and live only for revenge; fierce and implacable, they cherish mad schemes of re-conquest, which are utterly futile. But all the same, it will be woe to the man who argues for peace in the Saxon witan in the presence of these implacable men."

"Is there anything I can do to soothe these hatreds?"

"You have begun well, and it seems marvellous to report, your deeds of mercy and kindness are being talked about through the countryside where Saxons meet together. These acts of kindness make for peace with mightier force than deeds of arms or years of a rule of force."

"But what is to be the solution of this race difficulty? Some of our people speak and act as though there were no solution but the extermination of all those who offer any resistance to their being reduced to villeinage the most abject."

"In a policy of force there is no other conclusion. If you were to take yonder sapling and tie its head down to earth, there would be unceasing resistance to the ign.o.ble bond. And why? Because the Creator made it to be free, to rear its head aloft, contemporaneous with its fellows. The human spirit loves its freedom even better than yon sapling, and its resistance to all tyranny is eternal. Force may fetter it, but perpetual force will be necessary to keep it fettered. Mark me, lady, it is easier to talk of extermination than to effect it. I command at present a band of men who are the pick of my race for valour, who will defy thy people with impunity, and are capable of striking fierce blows of revenge in every unguarded moment. If ever the hour of thy nation's weakness should come, terrible will be the revenge, if some strong hand curb not the wild spirit."

"This unholy strife between our peoples is madness. How may we avert it?" said Alice.

"I confess, lady, that but a little while ago I had no feelings but those of undying hatred to thy race. But as I lay in that dungeon beneath the castle, an angel in human form, by an act of pure mercy, gave me liberty and life. 'Twas wonderful! The cold, frozen blood at my heart turned, at a stroke, to warmth. I felt that there is a pa.s.sion of the human heart more potent than hatred, and some obligations more binding than an oath. Let those who do not love strife, but love mercy, work for mercy and reconciliation; and I think I see the day when there shall be such a blending of races that each shall be strengthened by the other."

"I shall welcome the day, Sir Knight. But had we not better return?

Jeannette, I am afraid, will be in great trouble."

"I am not a knight, lady; we Saxons are slow at learning the language of chivalry. If it be not presumptuous to ask it, call me Oswald; 'twill bring us so much nearer."

"Then if you have not learnt the language of chivalry, you will be the better able to call me Alice. Is it agreed?"

"With all my heart, Alice. It is a compact. Let me again a.s.sure you that you and your maid are perfectly safe in the woods or anywhere, so far as my followers and va.s.sals are concerned. There is just one thing I would caution you about," said he, with a twinkle in his eye. "One Saxon has a very great admiration for the very spots which you are likely to choose; and I warn you, if he see a certain light in his lady's eyes, never more look for peace."

"Really this does sound like the language of our Norman gallants, after all. But come, now, if you are really heart-hungry, just a crumb of comfort will sustain you; for our Norman ballads declare very loudly that valorous knights for their lady-loves will do and dare, or suffer and wait,--well, really, without going through the list, it is wonderful what valiant knights will do for love and chivalry--_in books_. I used to see the said valiant knights in books, but latterly I have been face to face with the reality; and alas! I find them most devoted to wine and ale, and incontinence. So, Sir Knight,--for such I will call you once more--he who wins Alice de Montfort will have a knightlier soul than this."

"Well, I will not sound a trumpet before me, as the hypocrites do, so no more of this. Let time declare it. But did you learn how I made my escape from the castle that fateful night?"

"No. Pray tell me now? I am most curious to know it."

"Wait a little. But let me tell you I can enter the castle when I like.

If you wish an interview with me at any time, you need but make some signal from the tower, and at nightfall I will meet you there whenever you wish."

"But can you come with perfect safety?"

"With absolute safety."

"Then that shall be our trysting-place, to which I will summon my Saxon ally when good news stirs--but I fear me more often when my sad heart needs cheering. But I sorely fear your coming there will be full of peril. Could I not meet you elsewhere?"

"Courage, dear one! and take no thought for me. Let your heart be stout, for the future is luminous with hope."

As the boat rounded a bend in the river, Oswald beheld the fierce struggle going on between the two Saxons, and, with an exclamation of pain, he gave two or three l.u.s.ty strokes which sent the boat flying amongst the trees which lined the embankment. Hastily springing upon the bank, he tore Sigurd from the prostrate form of Wulfhere.

"Jarl!" said he, "how is this? Making war upon your friends! This will not do, mark me!"

"And how is this?" retorted Sigurd fiercely. "You and this chicken-hearted slave making love to deadly enemies. This will not do, _mark that_!"

"Enough, enough!" said Oswald, gathering up the prostrate form of Jeannette, who was in a dead swoon. He lifted her into the boat and dashed a few drops of cold water in her face. "There, now," said he, "she is all right." And in a whisper he said to Alice, "Pull away, dearest. Remember the tryst, and be not dismayed. This man is a scion of the untamed Vikings who linger in the land. I shall know how to deal with him."

Oswald watched the boat and its occupants glide away, and waving a last adieu he turned to his companions, and said, "Let us go. Sigurd," he continued, in tones of severity, "this fierce quarrel bodes no good to the Saxon cause."

"Does this dawdling with Norman women bode some good to the Saxon cause?

I wot Viking, or Dane, or old-time Saxon would not have warred like this. Are we going to avenge ourselves upon our enemies by simpering to their women? My ancestors have conquered with the sword, and I will thrust through any Norman I can--aye, and their women, too! To spare the dam to suckle cubs will not do for me!"

"Sigurd, mark me, thy fierce, implacable temper will hurt the Saxon cause more than ever thy sword will aid it. Kindly understand that I am lord in these parts, and my will shall be law. If thou art not satisfied, well, thou had better return to thy own domain of Lakesland, and make war according to thy own notions. If thou succeed better than us, well, then we may copy thy methods; but here we will have no slaying of defenceless women and children. As for these two in particular, they gave me my life, and whoever injures a hair of their heads is my mortal foe. Let that suffice, Jarl."

"Tut, tut! Fine, no doubt; but I like not such modes of warfare, and if I cannot be allowed to spill Norman blood whenever I can, I'll none of it."

"I have my own plans for the protection of my people and for the amelioration of their lot, and I think it is the best. As for thy methods, and the hopes thou hast of driving out the Normans, I regard them as worse than madness, and they will end in the annihilation of the Saxon race. So be pleased to interfere no more with my plans," said Oswald.

CHAPTER XX.

WAR'S VICISSITUDES.

"Hope tells a flattering tale, Delusive, vain, and hollow.

Ah! let not hope prevail, Lest disappointment follow."

Miss Wrother.

The desperate repulse which the Normans received at the hands of the Saxon outlaws, made them exceedingly chary of attempting again the extermination of them. This afforded a welcome respite to the fugitives, particularly to the women and children. But the vigilance of their sentinels was never permitted to be relaxed. The retreat to which Ethel had been conveyed was thus free from alarms, and lacked nothing in picturesqueness and beauty. Oswald had taken care that it should be furnished with some comfort and taste, for he had been wont in summertime to spend often many days, and even weeks, in this secluded and lovely spot. To Ethel, this home in the mountains was dearly welcome. During the day she busied herself with the books of history, travel, and romance which Oswald loved; and at even her countenance brightened at his cheery words and pleasant greetings. But for some days a strange feeling of anxiety and foreboding had clouded her happiness; for more than a week Oswald had not so much as paid a hurried visit to his favourite rendezvous.

"Your master has not been here for more than a week, Bretwul," said she one day, when her anxiety for tidings could no longer be resisted. "Do you know what detains him? I fear me he has fallen into the hands of the Normans."

"He will not fall into the hands of the Normans so easily, lady. If he does it will only be his body, though I am afraid he ventures on some desperate enterprises."

"Whither has he gone, Bretwul? Know you?"

"I know not for certainty, lady, but I have belief he has gone with one Sigurd, lord of Lakesland, for he has disappeared and taken his wild-cat crew with him. Good riddance, I trow! and may my eyes never look upon such starved, ill-clad, unsavoury mortals again!"