by A. D. Crake
fiery, the eyesweak and bloodshot.
"Water! water! I burn!" he said.
There was no cooling medicine to alleviate the burning throat, no gentlehand to smooth the pillow, no mother to render the sweet offices ofmaternal love, no father to whisper forgiveness to the dying boy.
"Better he should die thus," said Ragnar, "since I cannot spare himwithout breaking my oath to the dead."
Then he left the room hastily, as if he feared his own resolution. Thesentinel looked imploringly at him, as the cries of the revellers camefrom below.
"Go!" said Ragnar, "join thy companions; no sentinel is required here.Go and feast; I will come and join you."
So he tried to drown his new-born pity in wine.
At a late hour of the day, Alfred and his attendants arrived, bringingnews of the coming succour to Father Cuthbert and the other friends whoawaited him with much anxiety. They had contrived to account for hisabsence to the lady Edith, from whom they thought it necessary to hidethe true state of affairs.
But everything tended to increase Alfred's feverish anxiety about hisbrother. The relieving force could not arrive for hours; meanwhile heknew not what to do. No tidings were heard: Father Swithin had failedand Elfric might perhaps even now be dead.
So Alfred, taking counsel only of his own brave, loving heart, left thepriory in the dusk, attended by the faithful Oswy, and walked towardshis former home. The night was dark and cloudy, the moon had not yetarisen, and they were close upon the hall ere they saw its form loomingthough the darkness. Neither spoke, but they paused before thedrawbridge and listened.
Sounds of uproarious mirth arose from within; Danish war songs, shoutingand cheering; the whole body of the invaders were evidently feasting andrevelling with that excess, of which in their leisure moments they wereso capable.
"It is well!" said Alfred; and they walked round the exterior of themoat, marking the brightly lighted hall and the unguarded look of theplace; yet not wholly unguarded, for they saw the figure of a manoutlined against a bright patch of sky, pacing the leaded roof,evidently on guard.
And now they had reached that portion of their circuit which led themopposite the chamber window of the lamented Ella, and Alfred gazed sadlyupon it, when both he and Oswy started as they heard cries and moans,and sometimes articulate words, proceeding therefrom.
They listened eagerly, and caught the name "Dunstan," as if uttered invehement fear, then the cry. "Water! I burn!" and cry after cry, as iffrom one in delirium.
"It is Elfric! it is Elfric!" said Alfred.
"It is my young lord's voice," said the thrall; "he is in a fever fromhis wound."
"What can we do?" and Alfred walked impatiently to and fro; at last hestopped.
"Oswy! if it costs me my life I will enter the castle!"
"It shall cost my life too, then. I will live and die with my lord!"
"Come here, Oswy; they do not know the little postern door hidden behindthose bushes; the passage leads up to the chapel, and to the galleryleading to my father's chamber, where Elfric lies dying. I remember thatthat door was left unlocked, and perhaps I can save him. They are allfeasting like hogs; they will not know, and if Ragnar meet me, why, heor I must die;" and he put his hand convulsively upon the sword whichwas dependent from his girdle.
"Lead on, my lord; you will find your thrall ready to live or die withyou!" said Oswy.
At the extreme angle of the building there was a large quantity of hollybushes which grew out of the soil between the moat and the wall, whichitself was clothed with the thickest ivy; the roof above was slanting--an ordinary timber roof covering the chapel--so that no sentinel couldbe overhead. Standing on the further side of the moat, all this and nomore could be observed.
The first difficulty was how to cross the moat in the absence of eitherbridge or boat. It was true they might swim over; but in the event oftheir succeeding in the rescue of Elfric, how were they to bear himback? The difficulty had to be overcome, and they reflected a moment.
"There is a small boat down at the ferry," whispered Oswy.
It was all Alfred needed, and he and Oswy at once started for the river.They returned in a few minutes, bearing a light boat, almost like aBritish coracle, on which they instantly embarked, and a push or twowith the pole sent them noiselessly across the moat.
They landed, made fast the boat, and searched in the darkness for thedoor; it was an old portal, almost disused, for it was only built thatthere might be a retreat in any such pressing emergency as might easilyarise in those unsettled times; the holly bushes in front, and the thickbranches of dependent ivy, concealed its existence from any personbeyond the moat, and it had not even been seen by the watchful eye ofRagnar.
Alfred, however, had but recently made use of the door, when seekingbunches of holly wherewith to deck the board on the occasion of thefeast given to King Edwy, and he had omitted to relock it on his return,an omission which now seemed to him of providential arrangement.
He had, therefore, only to turn the rusty latch as noiselessly as mightbe, and the door slowly opened. The key was in the lock, on the inside.
Entering cautiously, taking off their heavy shoes and leaving them inthe doorway, they ascended a flight of steps which terminated in frontof a door which entered the chapel underneath the bell cot, whileanother flight led upwards to the gallery, from which all the principalchambers on the first floor opened.
Arriving at this upper floor, Alfred listened intently for one moment,and hearing only the sounds of revelry from beneath, he opened the doorgently, and saw the passage lie vacant before him.
He passed along it until he came to the door of his father's chamber,feeling the whole time that his life hung on a mere thread, upon thechance that Ragnar and his warriors might remain out of the way, andthat no one might be near to raise the alarm. With nearly two hundredinmates this was but a poor chance, but Alfred could dare all for hisbrother. He committed himself, therefore, to God's protection, and wentfirmly on till he reached the door.
He opened it with trembling eagerness, and the whole scene as we havealready described it was before him. Elfric sat up in the bed, utteringthe cries which had pierced the outer air. When Alfred entered he didnot seem to know him, but saluted him as "Dunstan." His cries had becometoo familiar to the present inmates of the hall for this to attractattention. Alfred closed the door.
"It is I, Elfric!--I, your brother Alfred!"
Elfric stared vacantly, then fell back on the pillow: a moment onlypassed, and then it was evident that an interval of silence had begun,during which the patient only moaned. The noise from those who werefeasting in the hall beneath, which communicated with the gallery by alarge staircase, was loud and boisterous as ever.
A step was heard approaching.
Alfred took Oswy by the arm, and they both retired behind the tapestry,which concealed a small recess, where garments were usually suspended.
The heavy step entered the room, and its owner was evidently standingbeside the bed gazing upon the couch. There he remained stationary forsome minutes, and again left the room. It was not till the last soundhad died away that Alfred and Oswy ventured to leave their concealment.
The silence still continued, save that it was sometimes broken by thepatient's moans.
"Take and wrap these clothes round him; we must preserve him from thenight air;" and they wrapped the blankets around him; then Oswy, who wasvery strongly built, took the light frame of Elfric in his arms, andthey left the room.
One moment of dread suspense--the passage was clear--a minute morewould have placed them in safety, when the paroxysm returned upon theunfortunate Elfric.
"Help, Edwy! Redwald, help! Dunstan has seized me, and is bearing me tothe fire! I burn! help, I burn!"
Alfred groaned in his agony; the shrieking voice had been uttered justas they passed the staircase leading down to the hall. Up rushed Ragnar,followed by several of his men, and started back in amazement as hebeheld Alfred and Oswy with their burden. Alfred dre
w his sword todispute the passage, but was overpowered in a moment. Ragnar himselfattacked Oswy, who was forced to relinquish his burden. All was lost.
Another moment and Ragnar confronted his prisoners. Elfric had beencarried back to his bed. Alfred and Oswy stood before him, their armsbound behind them, in the great hall, while the soldiers retired at asignal a short distance from them.
"What has brought you here?"
"To deliver my brother."
"To share his fate, you mean. Know you into whose hands you have fallen?"
"Yes; into those of my cousin Ragnar."
"Then you know what mercy to expect."
"I came prepared to share my brother's fate."
"And you shall share it. It must be the hand of fate which has placedyou both in my power, me, the representative of the rightful lord ofAescendune, dispossessed by your father, and being