Hereward, the Last of the English by Charles Kingsley (i am reading a book .TXT) 📖

bell, book, and candle, to the lowest pit of Tartarus, all who had done the deed.

But to-day he spoke them fair. However, his fair speeches profited little, not being understood by a horde of Letts and Finns, who howled and bayed at him, and tried to tear the crucifix from his hands; but feared “the white Christ.”

They were already gaining courage from their own yells; in a moment more blood would have been shed, and then a general massacre must have ensued.

Hereward saw it, and shouting, “After me, Hereward’s men! a bear! a bear!” swung Letts and Finns right and left like corn-sheaves, and stood face to face with Herluin.

An angry Finn smote him on the hind-head full with a stone axe. He staggered, and then looked round and laughed.

“Fool! hast thou not heard that Hereward’s armor was forged by dwarfs in the mountain-bowels? Off, and hunt for gold, or it will be all gone.”

The Finn, who was astonished at getting no more from his blow than a few sparks, and expected instant death in return, took the hint and vanished jabbering, as did his fellows.

“Now, Herluin, the Frenchman!” said Hereward.

“Now, Hereward, the robber of saints!” said Herluin.

It was a fine sight. The soldier and the churchman, the Englishman and the Frenchman, the man of the then world, and the man of the then Church, pitted fairly, face to face.

Hereward tried, for one moment, to stare down Herluin. But those terrible eye-glances, before which Vikings had quailed, turned off harmless from the more terrible glance of the man who believed himself backed by the Maker of the universe, and all the hierarchy of heaven.

A sharp, unlovely face it was: though, like many a great churchman’s face of those days, it was neither thin nor haggard; but rather round, sleek, of a puffy and unwholesome paleness. But there was a thin lip above a broad square jaw, which showed that Herluin was neither fool nor coward.

“A robber and a child of Belial thou hast been from thy cradle; and a robber and a child of Belial thou art now. Dare thy last iniquity, and slay the servants of St. Peter on St. Peter’s altar, with thy worthy comrades, the heathen Saracens [Footnote: The Danes were continually mistaken, by Norman churchmen, for Saracens, and the Saracens considered to be idolaters. A maumee, or idol, means a Mahomet.], and set up Mahound with them in the holy place.”

Hereward laughed so jolly a laugh, that the Prior was taken aback.

“Slay St. Peter’s rats? I kill men, not monks. There shall not a hair of your head be touched. Here! Hereward’s men! march these traitors and their French Prior safe out of the walls, and into Milton Woods, to look after their poor corrodiers, and comfort their souls, after they have ruined their bodies by their treason!”

“Out of this place I stir not. Here I am, and here I will live or die, as St. Peter shall send aid.”

But as he spoke, he was precipitated rudely forward, and hurried almost into Hereward’s arms. The whole body of monks, when they heard Hereward’s words, cared to hear no more, but desperate between fear and joy, rushed forward, bearing away their Prior in the midst.

“So go the rats out of Peterborough, and so is my dream fulfilled. Now for the treasure, and then to Ely.”

But Herluin burst himself clear of the frantic mob of monks, and turned back on Hereward.

“Thou wast dubbed knight in that church!”

“I know it, man; and that church and the relics of the saints in it are safe, therefore. Hereward gives his word.”

“That,—but not that only, if thou art a true knight, as thou holdest, Englishman.”

Hereward growled savagely, and made an ugly step toward Herluin. That was a point which he would not have questioned.

“Then behave as a knight, and save, save,”—as the monks dragged him away,—“save the hospice! There are women,—ladies there!” shouted he, as he was borne off.

They never met again on earth; but both comforted themselves in after years, that two old enemies’ last deed in common had been one of mercy.

Hereward uttered a cry of horror. If the wild Letts, even the Jomsburgers, had got in, all was lost. He rushed to the door. It was not yet burst: but a bench, swung by strong arms, was battering it in fast.

“Winter! Geri! Siwards! To me, Hereward’s men! Stand back, fellows. Here are friends here inside. If you do not, I’ll cut you down.”

But in vain. The door was burst, and in poured the savage mob. Hereward, unable to stop them, headed them, or pretended to do so, with five or six of his own men round him, and went into the hall.

On the rushes lay some half-dozen grooms. They were butchered instantly, simply because they were there. Hereward saw, but could not prevent. He ran as hard as he could to the foot of the wooden stair which led to the upper floor.

“Guard the stair-foot, Winter!” and he ran up.

Two women cowered upon the floor, shrieking and praying with hands clasped over their heads. He saw that the arms of one of them were of the most exquisite whiteness, and judging her to be the lady, bent over her. “Lady! you are safe. I will protect you. I am Hereward.”

She sprang up, and threw herself with a scream into his arms.

“Hereward! Hereward! Save me. I am—”

“Alftruda!” said Hereward.

It was Alftruda; if possible more beautiful than ever.

“I have got you!” she cried. “I am safe now. Take me away,—out of this horrible place! Take me into the woods,—anywhere. Only do not let me be burnt here,—stifled like a rat. Give me air! Give me water!” And she clung to him so madly, that Hereward, as he held her in his arms, and gazed on her extraordinary beauty, forgot Torfrida for the second time.

But there was no time to indulge in evil thoughts, even had any crossed his mind. He caught her in his arms, and commanding the maid to follow, hurried down the stair.

Winter and the Siwards were defending the foot with swinging blades. The savages were howling round like curs about a bull; and when Hereward appeared above with the women, there was a loud yell of rage and envy.

He should not have the women to himself,—they would share the plunder equally,—was shouted in half a dozen barbarous dialects.

“Have you left any valuables in the chamber?” whispered he to Alftruda.

“Yes, jewels,—robes. Let them have all, only save me!”

“Let me pass!” roared Hereward. “There is rich booty in the room above, and you may have it