Stories from the Ballads Part 3

Now, when the little Etin reached the earl, he fell on his knee before him.

The old earl looked upon the little lad, and his eyes they were filled with tears.

'My little wee boy, ye must haste away,' he cried. 'An I look upon you long my heart will break into three pieces, for ye have the eyes, the hair of my lost May Margaret.'

'My eyes are blue as my mother's eyes, and my yellow hair curls as does hers,' cried the little wee boy.

'Where is your mother?' then cried the earl, and the tears rolled down his cheek.

'My mother is standing at the castle gate, and with her are my six little wee brothers,' said the bonny young Etin.

'Run, porter boys, run fast,' said the earl, 'and throw wide open the gates that my daughter may come in to me.'

Into the hall came Margaret, her six little sons by her side.

Before the earl she fell upon her knee, but the earl he lifted her up and said, 'Ye shall dine with me to-day, ye and your seven bonny little sons.'

'No food can I eat,' said Margaret, 'until I see again my dear husband. For he knows not where he may find me and his seven dear little sons.'

'Now will I send my hunters, and they shall search the forest high and low and bring Hynde Etin unto me,' said the earl.

Then up and spake the little wee Etin.

'Search for my father shall ye not, until ye do send to him a pardon full and free.'

And the earl smiled at the young Etin.

'In sooth a pardon shall your father have,' said he.

With his own hand the earl wrote the pardon, and he sealed it with his own seal. Then the hunters were off and away to search for Hynde Etin. They sought for him east and they sought for him west, they sought all over the countryside. And at length they found him sitting alone in his home in Elmond wood. Alone, and tearing his yellow locks, was Hynde Etin.

'Get up, Hynde Etin, get up and come with us, for the earl has sent for you,' cried the merry hunters.

'The earl may do as he lists with me,' said Etin. 'He may cut off my head, or he may hang me on a greenwood tree. Little do I care to live,' moaned Etin, 'now that I have lost my lady Margaret.'

'The lady Margaret is in her father's hall, Hynde Etin,' said the hunters, 'nor food will she eat until ye do come to her. There is a pardon for you here sealed by the earl's own hand.'

Then Hynde Etin smoothed his yellow locks, and gay was he as he went with the hunters to the castle.

Down on his knee before the earl fell Hynde Etin. 'Rise, Etin, rise!' cried the earl. 'This day shall ye dine with me.'

Around the earl's table sat the lady Margaret, her husband dear, and her seven little wee sons. And the little Etin looked and looked and never a tear did he see on his mother's face.

'A boon I have to ask,' cried then the little wee boy; 'I would we were all in the holy church that the good priest might christen me and my six little brothers. For in the greenwood gay never a church did we see, nor the sound of church bells did we hear.'

'Soon shall your boon be granted,' cried the earl, 'for this very day to the church shall ye go, and your mother and your six little wee brothers shall be with you.'

To the door of the holy church they came, but there did the lady Margaret stay.

'For twelve long years and more,' she cried, and bowed her head, 'for twelve long years have I never been within the holy church, and I fear to enter now.'

Then out to her came the good priest, and his smile was sweet to see. Come hither, come hither, my lily-white flower,' said he, 'and bring your babes with you that I may lay my hands upon their heads.'

Then did he christen the lady Margaret's seven little wee sons.

And their names, beginning with the tiniest, were these--Charles, Vincent, Sam, d.i.c.k, James, John. And the eldest little wee son was, as you already know, named after his father, Etin.

And back to the earl's gay castle went the lady Margaret with Hynde Etin and her seven little new-christened sons. And there they lived happy for ever after.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 'For twelve long years have I never been within the Holy Church, and I fear to enter now']

HYNDE HORN

Hynde Horn was a little prince. It was because he was so courteous, so kind a little lad that Prince Horn was always called Hynde Horn. For hend or hynde in the days of long ago meant just all the beautiful things which these words, courteous, kind, mean in these days.

Hynde Horn lived a happy life in his home in the distant East.

For it was in the bright glowing land of the sun that his father, King Allof, reigned.

The Queen G.o.dylt loved her little son too well to spoil him. She wished him to learn to share his toys, to play his games with other boys.

Thus, much to the delight of little Prince Horn, two boys, almost as old as he was, came to live with him in the palace. Athulph and Fykenyld were their names.

They were merry playmates for the little prince, and, as the years rolled by, Athulph and Fykenyld thought there was no one to equal their prince Hynde Horn. They would serve him loyally when he was king and they were men.

All went well in the palace of this far-off eastern land until Hynde Horn was fifteen years of age. Then war came, without warning, into this country of blue sky and blazing sun.

Mury, King of the Turks, landed in the kingdom of King Allof, who was all unprepared for fight. And King Mury, with his fierce soldiers, pillaged the land, killed the good King Allof, seized his crown, and placed it on his own head.

Then poor Queen G.o.dylt fled from the palace, taking with her Hynde Horn and his two playmates Prince Athulph and Prince Fykenyld.

I cannot tell you what became of the beautiful queen, but Mury, the cruel king, captured Hynde Horn and made him and his two playfellows prisoners.

What should he do with Prince Horn, who was heir to the kingdom he had seized?

Should he kill the lad, he wondered. Yet cruel as King Mury was, he could not do so dastardly a deed.

But Hynde Horn was tall and strong, and Hynde Horn was loved by the people. He must certainly be sent out of the country.

So King Mury planned, and King Mury plotted, and at length he thought of a way, by which he hoped to be for ever rid of the gallant prince and his two companions.

He ordered the prisoners to be brought down to the seash.o.r.e, and there the lads were thrust into an open boat, and pushed out to sea. It seemed as though they must perish, for King Mury had given orders that no provisions were to be placed in the boat.

There was neither helm nor oar for the little craft. The lads could do nothing to guide her on her dangerous course. Now they would drift gently on the swell of the quiet sea, now they would whirl giddily on the crest of a storm-tossed wave. Faint and weary grew Hynde Horn and his two companions. It seemed to them that they would perish from hunger or be devoured by the storm.

Yet every day the little boat was drifted by soft breezes or driven by wild storm-clouds westward and always westward. At length one day a great wave came and lifted it high up on to the coast. The boys had reached Scotland, the country over which King Alymer ruled.