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

“Is it possible? Is there one human being left on earth who cares to hear about Alftruda? Then listen. You know when Gospatrick fled to Scotland his sons went with him. Young Gospatrick, Waltheof, [Footnote: This Waltheof Gospatricksson must not be confounded with Waltheof Siwardsson, the young Earl. He became a wild border chieftain, then Baron of Atterdale, and then gave Atterdale to his sister Queen Ethelreda, and turned monk, and at last Abbot, of Crowland: crawling home, poor fellow, like many another, to die in peace in the sanctuary of the Danes.] and he,—Dolfin. Ethelreda, his girl, went too,—and she is to marry, they say, Duncan, Malcolm’s eldest son by Ingebiorg. So Gospatrick will find himself, some day, father-in-law of the King of Scots.”

“I will warrant him to find his nest well lined, wherever he be. But of yourself?”

“I refused to go. I could not face again that bleak black North. Beside—but that is no concern of Hereward’s—”

Hereward was on the point of saying, “Can anything concern you, and not be interesting to me?”

But she went on,—

“I refused, and—”

“And he misused you?” asked he, fiercely.

“Better if he had. Better if he had tied me to his stirrup, and scourged me along into Scotland, than have left me to new dangers and to old temptations.”

“What temptations?”

Alftruda did not answer; but went on,—

“He told me, in his lofty Scots’ fashion, that I was free to do what I list. That he had long since seen that I cared not for him; and that he would find many a fairer lady in his own land.”

“There he lied. So you did not care for him? He is a noble knight.”

“What is that to me? Women’s hearts are not to be bought and sold with their bodies, as I was sold. Care for him? I care for no creature upon earth. Once I cared for Hereward, like a silly child. Now I care not even for him.”

Hereward was sorry to hear that. Men are vainer than women, just as peacocks are vainer than peahens; and Hereward was—alas for him!—a specially vain man. Of course, for him to fall in love with Alftruda would have been a shameful sin,—he would not have committed it for all the treasures of Constantinople; but it was a not unpleasant thought that Alftruda should fall in love with him. But he only said, tenderly and courteously,—

“Alas, poor lady!”

“Poor lady. Too true, that last. For whither am I going now? Back to that man once more.”

“To Dolfin?”

“To my master, like a runaway slave. I went down south to Queen Matilda. I knew her well, and she was kind to me, as she is to all things that breathe. But now that Gospatrick is come into the king’s grace again, and has bought the earldom of Northumbria, from Tweed to Tyne—”

“Bought the earldom?”

“That has he; and paid for it right heavily.”

“Traitor and fool! He will not keep it seven years. The Frenchman will pick a quarrel with him, and cheat him out of earldom and money too.”

The which William did, within three years.

“May it be so! But when he came into the king’s grace, he must needs demand me back in his son’s name.”

“What does Dolfin want with you?”

“His father wants my money, and stipulated for it with the king. And besides, I suppose I am a pretty plaything enough still.”

“You? You are divine, perfect. Dolfin is right. How could a man who had once enjoyed you live without you?”

Alftruda laughed,—a laugh full of meaning; but what that meaning was, Hereward could not divine.

“So now,” she said, “what Hereward has to do, as a true and courteous knight, is to give Alftruda safe conduct, and, if he can, a guard; and to deliver her up loyally and knightly to his old friend and fellow-warrior, Dolfin Gospatricksson, earl of whatever he can lay hold of for the current month.”

“Are you in earnest?”

Alftruda laughed one of her strange laughs, looking straight before her. Indeed, she had never looked Hereward in the face during the whole ride.

“What are those open holes? Graves?”

“They are Barnack stone-quarries, which Alfgar my brother gave to Crowland.”

“So? That is pity. I thought they had been graves; and then you might have covered me up in one of them, and left me to sleep in peace.”

“What can I do for you, Alftruda, my old play-fellow: Alftruda, whom I saved from the bear?”

“If she had foreseen the second monster into whose jaws she was to fall, she would have prayed you to hold that terrible hand of yours, which never since, men say, has struck without victory and renown. You won your first honor for my sake. But who am I now, that you should turn out of your glorious path for me?”

“I will do anything,—anything. But why miscall this noble prince a monster?”

“If he were fairer than St. John, more wise than Solomon, and more valiant than King William, he is to me a monster; for I loathe him, and I know not why. But do your duty as a knight, sir. Convey the lawful wife to her lawful spouse.”

“What cares an outlaw for law, in a land where law is dead and gone? I will do what I—what you like. Come with me to Torfrida at Bourne; and let me see the man who dares try to take you out of my hand.”

Alftruda laughed again.

“No, no. I should interrupt the little doves in their nest. Beside, the billing and cooing might make me envious. And I, alas! who carry misery with me round the land, might make your Torfrida jealous.”

Hereward was of the same opinion, and rode silent and thoughtful through the great woods which are now the noble park of Burghley.

“I have found it!” said he at last. “Why not go to Gilbert of Ghent, at Lincoln?”

“Gilbert? Why should he befriend me?”

“He will do that, or anything else, which is for his own profit.”

“Profit? All the world seems determined to make profit out of me. I presume you would, if I had come with you to Bourne.”

“I do not doubt it. This is a very wild sea to swim in; and a man must be