The Hot Swamp by R. M. Ballantyne (latest novels to read .txt) 📖

olive complexion and his tongue betokened him a foreigner, for although the language he spoke was Albionic, it was what we now style broken—very much broken indeed. With a small head, short curly black hair, a very young beard, and small pointed moustache, fine intellectual features, and an expression of imperturbable good-humour, he presented an appearance which might have claimed the regard of any woman. At all events the queen had formed a very high opinion of him—and she was a woman of much experience, having seen many men in her day. Hafrydda, though, of course, not so experienced, fully equalled her mother, if she did not excel her, in her estimate of the young stranger.

As we should be unintelligible if we gave the youth’s words in the broken dialect, we must render his speech in fair English.

“I cannot tell how deeply I am grieved to hear this dreadful news of my dear friend,” he said, with a look of profound sorrow that went home to the mother’s heart.

“And did you really come to this land for the sole purpose of seeing my dear boy?” asked the queen.

“I did. You cannot imagine how much we loved each other. We were thrown together daily—almost hourly. We studied together; we competed when I was preparing for the Olympic games; we travelled in Egypt and hunted together. Indeed, if it had not been for my dear old mother, we should have travelled to this land in the same ship.”

“Your mother did not wish you to leave her, I suppose?”

“Nay, it was I who would not leave her. Her unselfish nature would have induced her to make any sacrifice to please me. It was only when she died that my heart turned with unusual longing to my old companion Bladud, and I made up my mind to quit home and traverse the great sea in search of him.”

A grateful look shot from Hafrydda’s blue eyes, but it was lost on the youth, who sat gazing at the floor as if engrossed with his great disappointment.

“I cannot understand,” he continued, in an almost reproachful tone, “how you could ever make up your minds to banish him, no matter how deadly the disease that had smitten him.”

The princess’s fair face flushed deeply, and she shook back her golden curls—her eyes flashing as she replied—

“We did not ‘make up our minds to banish him.’ The warriors and people would have compelled us to do it whether we liked or not, for they have heard, alas! of the terrible nature of the disease. But the dear boy, knowing this, went off in the night unknown to us, and without even saying farewell. We have sent out parties to search for him several times, but without success.”

The youth was evidently affected by this burst of feeling.

“Ah,” he returned, with a look of admiration at the princess, “that was like him—like his noble, self-denying nature. But I will find him out, you may depend on it, for I shall search the land in all directions till I discover his retreat. If King Hudibras will grant me a few men to help me—well. If not, I will do it by myself.”

“Thank you, good Dromas, for your purpose and your sympathy,” said the queen. “The king will be only too glad to help you—but here he comes to speak for himself.”

The curtain door was tossed aside at the moment, and Hudibras strode into the room with a beaming smile and a rolling gait that told of redundant health, and showed that the cares of state sat lightly on him.

“Welcome, good Dromas, to our board. I was too sleepy to see much of you after your arrival last night. Mine eyes blinked like those of an owl. Kiss me, wife and daughter,” he added, giving the ladies a salute that resounded through the room. “Have they told you yet about our poor son Bladud?”

The visitor had not time to reply, when a domestic appeared and said there was an old woman at the door who would not go away.

“Give her some cakes and send her off!” cried the king with a frown.

“But she will not go till she has had converse with the princess.”

“I will go to her,” said Hafrydda, rising.

“Ay, go, my girl, and if thy sweet tongue fails to prevail, stuff her mouth with meat and drink till she is too stout to walk. Come, my queen, what have we this morning for breakfast? The very talking of meat makes me hungry.”

At this juncture several dogs burst into the room and gambolled with their royal master, as with one who is a familiar friend.

When the princess reached the outer door she found the woman standing, and evidently in a rage.

“Is this the way King Hudibras teaches his varlets to behave to poor people who are better than themselves?”

“Forgive them, granny,” said the princess, who was inclined to laugh, but strove to keep her gravity, “they are but stupid rogues at worst.”

“Nay, but they are sly rogues at best!” retorted the old woman. “The first that came, took me for a witch, and was moderately civil, but the second took away my stool and threatened to set the dogs at me.”

“If this be so, I will have him cow-hided; but tell me—what would you with me? Can I help you? Is it food that you want, or rest?”

“Truly it is both food and rest that I want, at the proper times, but what I want with you now, is to take me to your own room, and let me talk to you.”

“That is a curious desire,” returned Hafrydda, smiling, “but I will not deny you. Come this way. Have you anything secret to tell me?” she asked, when they were alone.

“Ay, that have I,” answered the woman in her natural voice, throwing off her shawl and standing erect.

The princess remained speechless, for her friend Branwen stood before her.

“Before I utter a word of explanation,” she said, “let me say that your brother is found, and safe, and well—or nearly so. This is the main thing, but I will not tell you anything more unless you give me your solemn promise not to tell a word of it all to any one till I give you leave. Do you promise?”

Hafrydda was so taken aback that she could do nothing for some time but gaze in the girl’s face. Then she laughed in an imbecile sort of way. Then she burst into tears of joy, threw her arms round her friend’s neck, hugged her tight, and promised anything—everything—that she chose to demand.

When, an hour later, the Princess Hafrydda returned to the breakfast room, she informed the king and queen that the old woman was not a beggar; that she had kept her listening to a long story about lost men and women and robbers; that she was a thorough deceiver; that some of the servants believed her to be a witch, and that she had sent her away.

“With an invitation to come back again, I’ll be bound,” cried the king, interrupting. “It’s always your way, my girl,—any one can impose on you.”

“Well, father, she did impose on me, and I did ask her to come back again.”

“I knew it,” returned the king, with a loud laugh, “and she’ll come, for certain.”

“She will, you may be quite sure of that,” rejoined the princess with a gleeful laugh, as she left the room.

About the same time, the little old woman left the palace and returned to the hut of the Hebrew.

Here, as she expected, she found that her escort had flown, and, a brief inspection of their footprints showed that, instead of proceeding towards the town, they had returned the way they came.