The Last of the Vikings Part 7

"Hilloa, Pierre! What now, you scowling villain! What has brought you?"

he bawled, with drunken incoherency; but, drunk as he was, he had noticed Pierre's disgust.

"We have executed your order, Baron," Pierre replied.

"Executed my order? Who? What have they done?"

"The commission you gave me about the Saxon lady down at the monastery."

"The wench that all the pother's about?"

"Yes, the same."

"Ah, I remember. Have you got her, Pierre?"

"Yes, as snug as anybody could wish. Not a whisper has got abroad."

"Bravo, Pierre! You are a gentleman. Pierre, do you hear? You are a gentleman, or a thief, I don't care which," giving a drunken chuckle.

"Drink, Pierre," said he, handing him a flagon of wine with a trembling hand.

Pierre took the goblet and drained it to the last drop.

Vigneau took it again, and looked into it for a moment with maudlin pensiveness, as though he could scarcely realise that it was really the bottom he gazed at. But the quarrelsome humour in him was never so rampant as when he was in his cups.

"There's a pint of good Rhenish gone, Pierre. Gone, too, into a stomach that must be about rotted out with Saxon ale by this time."

"Well, we'll bring them round with soothing draughts of Rhenish, master."

"Eh, dog? Not with mine, Pierre. With swill if you like, Pierre! Swill will do for a hog like you, Pierre! Eh! Do you hear me? Swill will do for you!" said the Baron, becoming quarrelsome with drunken excitement.

Fortunately, Pierre was sober, or matters would speedily have become serious. Checking the rising choler, he said,--

"What is to be done with this Saxon--Ethel, as she is called?"

"What do you know about Ethel, eh? Have you got her, scurvy villain? I say, have you got her? Answer me that."

"I told you we had, not a minute since."

"Eh? Then speak civilly, varlet! Do you know who I am? D---- me, I allow thy tongue too much licence. I'll not have such impudence from a scurvy trooper as I've taken lately. I'll teach you I'm a gentleman. Now mark me, Pierre. Keep a civil distance. I'll not have it," and he began fumbling for the hilt of his sword.

"Pshaw!" said Pierre, a.s.suming both a look and a tone of disgust.

"Eh, churl, what now?" roared Vigneau, in a towering rage, with great effort staggering to his feet, and after prolonged exertion getting out his sword, and lunging furiously at Pierre. But the act was too much for him. Lurching head foremost, the sword's point came ignominiously to the ground with his weight upon it, to prevent his falling flat. The result was, his great weight forced it a foot into the ground, from which his utmost efforts failed to extricate it, Pierre, meanwhile, vanishing from the tent with a horse-laugh. Vigneau dropped into his seat and stared vacantly at the point where Pierre had vanished, then at the sword standing upright in the ground. But his efforts to recall what it was all about were a total failure. Slowly his bleared eyes closed, and soon after he slid from his seat to the ground, to sleep off the effects of the night's debauch.

"The Baron is drunk and quarrelsome as usual to-night," said Pierre to his comrades, as he issued from the tent. "Nothing can be done with him till morning, and if he be not in a pleasanter humour in the morning, and come down handsome for us, you will have to be led by another, I trow. Well, we'll finish the business we have begun. Let us take victuals and a few other things down yonder. It will be a little more like a habitation, and not so like a sty."

CHAPTER X.

A FRUITLESS EMBa.s.sY.

"A bold, bad man."--Spenser.

To return to myself. I paced to and fro in the abbey grounds in anguish and suspense, waiting for Badger's return, yet almost dreading it, lest he should bring ill news. But midnight pa.s.sed, and the small hours of the morning came on, with no tidings of Ethel. I feared for her personal safety, and I feared also the effects upon her mind. For I must state here, for the benefit of the reader, that Ethel's surroundings had been such as to strongly imbue her mind with the heathenish beliefs of her ancestors. Her father came of an old viking stock, and rigidly adhered to the superst.i.tions of his forefathers. He had likewise given to Ethel a large measure of his stern and aggressive temperament, and had striven to instil into her mind his own religious beliefs. I had seen also at times the strange flashing of the fierce fire within her, when deeply stirred. Yet I saw there were elements of gentleness and delicacy in her composition, inherited in all probability from her mother, who was Saxon, and a devout Christian. With my whole energy I had striven, at the request of her dying mother, to train her in the Christian faith: but my opportunities had been of a most desultory nature. Then when I began to hope that my work would be accomplished, this terrible invasion occurred. Thus efforts to show her how the fierce pa.s.sions and reckless bloodshedding of the Nors.e.m.e.n--her father's ancestors--were cruel and heathenish, and their religion a gross superst.i.tion, were frustrated by this war of usurpation inflicted upon us by a Christian nation, with the approbation and blessing of the Pope, whilst at the head of their army they carried sacred banners and holy relics of saints. Thus the Christian religion was made to sanction bloodshed and ma.s.sacre, unsparing and fiendish in its extent and in its mercilessness. In the train of these professedly Christian soldiery also, there followed nameless horrors and offences, which outdid the excesses of Norseman and Dane tenfold. But, worse than all, her father and her two brothers had been ma.s.sacred--their home levelled--and she, having to fly to the shelter of the sanctuary, only found that the sanctuary was no sanctuary to her, and no protection against violence and brutality. It is utterly impossible to imagine any one more completely shorn of every prop and stay than she was; and I feared much also for her faith. I knew that there was that in her which would not permit her to tamely submit to indignities. But where would her revolt end?

Well, feeling that it would be better to be doing something to effect her rescue than to be absorbed in these painful cogitations, I decided I would start at once for the Norman camp. It was a long and a weary tramp in the darkness through the forest, but still, I hoped, by patient plodding forward, I should reach the camp by daylight. Happily I found I had not overrated my powers. As I drew near, I was challenged by the outpost. There was a considerable parleying, and a determination evinced to prevent my farther advance. But my sacred calling, coupled with the fact that I was unarmed, and that it was now broad daylight, ultimately prevailed, and I was conducted to a tent not far from the one occupied by Lady Alice de Montfort, with whom, after some time, I received an audience, and whom we will in future call Alice. To her I related all that I knew of the outrage, with such description of the persons taking part in it as I had been able to gather. From my description of the leader, she had no difficulty in identifying Pierre as the man.

"Well, Father, I may as well tell you at the outset, that this is what I expected. I warned this Saxon lady of the risks she ran by staying at the monastery, but I could not persuade her to accept my protection."

"She has been a great sufferer, gracious madame," I replied, "during these wars; and she was, no doubt, greatly afraid. Probably, also, she was greatly averse to joining your camp; though it was unquestionably a generous offer on your part."

"Well, reverend Father, I am not saying this to excuse my inaction now, but I a.s.sure you from what I know, and what I suspect of the partic.i.p.ants in this outrage, that it would have been far easier to keep the prey from the jaws of the lion than it will be to force his den and wrest it from him. I will do my utmost, I a.s.sure you. Jeannette," said she, turning to her maid, "let our guest have some refreshment, for he will be weary and faint, I am sure." So saying, she departed I know not where.

She returned in the course of half an hour; but she gave me little hope of success, though she said the Count, her father, had gone out in quest of the persons whom he suspected. She was most gracious to me, and asked most anxiously as to whether we were treated properly by the soldiers quartered upon us. I suspected very strongly that the comparative immunity from personal molestation we had hitherto enjoyed arose in great part from her goodwill and protection. She asked many questions with regard to our books; to our endowments; especially to the great relief we had been able to extend to the poor, and to strangers. I was highly impressed, not only with the charms of her person, but with her highly cultivated mind, and gracious demeanour.

I hastened my departure with as little delay as decency would permit; for to tell the truth, I was driven back upon my first hopes, that Badger's cunning and prowess would be equal to the emergency. I was thus extremely anxious to get me back to the monastery, that I might learn how he had fared. So I hurried over the open plain, and gat me into the forest as quickly as I could. For in very deed I felt myself anything but safe, as I noticed jealous eyes watching me narrowly. But I had scarcely entered the forest when I found myself in the presence of the unG.o.dly Norman who had desecrated the sanctuary, and endeavoured to carry off Ethel--whom, also, I strongly suspected of being at the bottom of this latest outrage. I involuntarily crossed myself, and uttered a prayer for help, for I felt instinctively that I had myself in very truth fallen into the jaws of the lion.

"Well, shaveling," said he, "thou hast said thy prayers, I perceive.

Thou hast done well to be prepared, lest the devil should get thee. What has been thy errand to the camp so early? Be explicit and prompt, or thou wilt rue it."

"I have had particular business there, my lord."

"I knew that already, dolt! Let us have details. With whom hast thou had business?"

"With Lady de Montfort."

"So I thought. What was the matter that disturbed your saintly bosom, old smooth-pate? Out with it!"

"There has been an outrage committed upon us, and one of our refugees carried off by force from the monastery."

"Ah! that was terrible! So you first despatched a posse of your bog-trotting Saxon churls to murder two of my men; then you dragged your battered old shins through the woods, to raise a hullaballoo at the camp. It was well done. Now, what shall I give you for your trouble? I think a broken neck is about your deserts."

So, without more ado, he laid violent hands upon me, and tore my cloak from my back. Then he tried to strangle me; but I had been stout of limb, and agile as any of my fellows, when I was young, so I resisted with all my might. I was delighted to find, in spite of the disadvantage of a score of years, he was more blown than I was. Eventually, I was able to slip from his grasp, and immediately took to my heels. He was younger, but stout and bulky; and I found in this point, also, I was greatly his superior, and quickly increased the distance between us. So he gave up the chase, and permitted me for the time being to go in peace. For this wonderful deliverance I gave G.o.d thanks.

CHAPTER XI.

OSWALD'S DEFENCE OF HIS CASTLE.

"Cry 'Havock!' and let slip the dogs of war."--Shakespeare.

In the meantime, the Normans had made diligent preparation for an a.s.sault on the castle. Now the castle could not be described as a very formidable stronghold, or one designed to withstand a regular siege. It had been built mainly to resist the incursions of the Scots, who periodically raided in force into these parts, their purpose being plunder and cattle-lifting. They overran the country quickly, getting them back as speedily as possible, before the Saxons had time to concentrate, so that no very great powers of resistance were needed to repel them, or weary them. Occasionally also the Danes carried fire and sword to our parts; but since the conquest of Northumbria and the north of England generally, by Halfdane, and the settlement of so many of his followers in the land, we had not been afflicted much with their incursions in this part of the kingdom, during my lifetime. Thus, the strength of the castle being sufficient for our hereditary foes, it still was not such as would be likely to long resist the experienced and numerous foes now pitched before it. The castle itself stood on an eminence; was built of good solid masonry, with a battlemented tower rising from its centre, but without any special design. It was strengthened by a wall which ran completely round, forming a s.p.a.cious enclosure, in which cattle could be speedily and safely housed in cases of emergency. This wall was lofty and fairly proportioned, but its great length made it difficult to man by the handful of Saxon defenders. It is well also to note that, as in the case of nearly all the strongholds of the land, it was provided with a secret pa.s.sage, known only to the trusted followers of Oswald--a pa.s.sage which could be entered by the initiated at a certain place in the circular stair which led to the turret. This underground pa.s.sage had an emerging place, carefully concealed in a dense wood some distance away.