"I will try to persuade him to stay, he is along with Bertric and Ethelgiva; they are only a few steps behind. Cuthbert, I have ordered every one of my theows and ceorls to be obedient to your warning if they wish to preserve their allegiance to Aescendune, or to escape chastis.e.m.e.nt, and I think none of them are likely to be abroad tonight."

"Can you not find out what the sheriff has told them? I saw him speaking to one or two."

"I will try. You must be my guest tonight, or at least for a few hours."

"Nay, I must return to compline; I may be wanted tonight, and ought to be at my post," said I.

We arrived at the old home, dear familiar place! stronger and better built than most such houses, because, being burnt down in my father's younger days, it had been rebuilt in a more substantial manner, and was capable of sustaining a formidable attack successfully.

We crossed the drawbridge, and entered the courtyard under the gateway; before us was the door of the great hall, merrily illumined by its blazing fire.

There, then, was the supper table bountifully spread, and the theows and ceorls awaiting the arrival of their lord. We entered, Elfwyn and I, and soon after Bertric, Ethelgiva, and Alfgar followed.

A loud horn was blown upon the battlements. Stragglers made their entrance good; the drawbridge was drawn up, the doors closed, and I blessed the meat.

CHAPTER III. THE NIGHT OF ST. BRICE.

Monday, November 14th, 1002.--

I hardly know how to write the events of last night, my pen almost refuses to begin. I feel thoroughly sickened by the very remembrance of the bloodshed and treachery which have disgraced Christian England, and which will a.s.suredly bring down G.o.d's judgment upon us.

But I will do violence to myself, and will write all things accurately, in order it may serve to show that there were those amongst us who were not consenting parties, who entered not into the counsels of those men of blood, whom may G.o.d "reward after their deeds, and according to the wickedness of their own inventions."

Well, to begin. When supper was ended at the hall last night, my brother bade his wife and children seek their bower, and Alfgar went with them; then he addressed his people with that confidence and affection he not only shows in his outward speech, but really feels in his heart.

"Are all the folk present within the gates?" he asked.

"We are all here, my lord," replied they; "none have been wanting in their duty."

"It is well; and now, my people, I ask you, whom I have ever trusted, and to whom I have tried to be a friend as well as a master, have you any of you a suspicion what the sheriff is about tonight, and why he desired the prior to tell good Christians to keep within doors?"

There was a dead silence. At last one of the ceorls rose up, and spoke with some hesitation:

"I think, my lord, that they intend to avenge themselves upon the Dane folk."

"Did they say anything about it to you or any other of my people?"

"Yes; they tried to get two or three of us to join in the work, but when they found we would do nothing without your knowledge, they told us no more."

"Then you do not know what is the exact work they have in hand?"

"No. But I heard something which made me think that plunder and ma.s.sacre were both likely to be committed."

"Did you hear any particular names mentioned?"

"Yes. That of Anlaf."

"This explains Siric's insolence, Cuthbert."

"It does," I replied.

"But surely they cannot intend to do anything tonight. They would not choose Sunday for a deed of darkness. Men who have attended ma.s.s during the day, surely would not so forget their G.o.d as to go through the country like cowardly wolves, pulling down the prey in company which they dare not attack singly."

"I should hope the same; but then the looks and words of today," said I.

"Did they say what authority they had for their projected scheme?"

"They dared to say," replied the ceorl who had before spoken, "they had the sanction of the king."

There was again a painful silence. We groaned in the bitterness of our hearts--O Ethelred, son of Edgar, hast thou forgotten all truth and mercy?--thou, the son of Edgar the Magnanimous?

Every impulse of our hearts led us to detest the cruel deed of treachery about to be consummated, but which we could not prevent.

At least there was one whom we could save from the general destruction, the young Alfgar, and we determined to detain him if possible by persuasion, keeping the truth from him, but in any case to detain him at the hall during the night.

I could not remain at the hall myself, for, on such a night, it seemed necessary to be with my own people, and to be ready to seize any opportunity of saving the effusion of blood, or of giving protection to any who might seek refuge under the shelter of our roof, where murder would be sacrilege, a consideration of some importance where Christians, shame to say, were the murderers.

But before I went my brother and I sent to Alfgar that we might speak to him, and prevail upon him to stay with us the night.

"Alfgar," said Elfwyn, "the night is very stormy and bl.u.s.tering, and we wish you to remain with us, and share our hospitality till the morn. Your father will not miss you?"

"I do not think he will; for after one of these debauches he generally sleeps far into the next day. But the domestic serfs may remark my absence."

"There is another reason, my boy, why we wish you to stay. Wild men who hate your father's race are abroad, and did you fall into their hands while returning home it might fare hard with you."

"I can imagine that. I marked the looks they cast upon me in G.o.d's house, even there, this day. They cannot forgive me my Danish blood, although my mother was one of themselves, and a Christian."

"They have suffered much, my lad; and suffering, as is often the case, has blunted their feelings. But you will stay with us, will you not?"

"I will stay; many thanks for your kindness."

After this I had nothing further to detain me at the castle, so I left for the priory.

It was a black dark night. The violence of the wind almost lifted me from my feet; not a star could be seen but occasionally a sharp hailstorm pelted down. Glad was I, although the distance was not great, to see the lights of the priory, and to dry my chilled limbs and wet garments before the fire in the common room while I told my brethren the tidings of the night, and the suspicions which we entertained.

When I had finished there was a dead pause, during which the howling blast without, as it dashed the hail against the cas.e.m.e.nt, seemed a fitting accompaniment to our sombre thoughts.

The compline bell rang.

This office is always full of heavenly comfort, but there seemed a special meaning tonight in one verse--"A thousand shall fall beside thee, and ten thousand at thy right hand, but it shall not come nigh thee."

Yet the thousands were heavy on our hearts, and I meditated some means of carrying tidings of their danger to our pagan neighbours; but I knew nothing of the details of the plot, only that there was a plot, and I knew that if I sent a brother, the Danes, in their hatred to monks, would probably set their huge dogs at him before he could speak, and perhaps worry him to death. Neither could any other messenger approach their dwellings safely at night.

I tried to hope, but against reason, that we had perhaps exaggerated the danger. Still, after the compline was over, we sat in deliberation a long time in the hall. The novices and lay brothers, ignorant of the peril, had retired to rest; but we, who knew the portentous state of things around us, could not have slept had we retired. Ever and anon we looked forth from doors and windows into the black darkness without; but although it was near midnight, neither sight nor sound told of aught amiss, and we were beginning to yield to fatigue, when I ascended the tower in company with Father Adhelm, to survey the scene for the last time. It was so windy that we could hardly stand upon the leaded roof, and although we gazed around, nought met our eyes until we were on the point of returning.