The reading of this sad letter was interrupted by many ejaculations and expressions of anger and horror, grief and astonishment; and when it was over, the spirits of the community were so depressed that the superior thought himself absolutely compelled to call upon the cellarer and bid him fill the stoups again, to the end that there might be another short Biberes. When the monks had drunk in silence, and had crossed themselves after the draught, they began to ask each other what was to be done? for they no longer doubted that Elfric had seen the forty men-at-arms in the neighbourhood, or that Ivo Taille-Bois would be thundering at their gate in the morning. Some proposed sending a messenger into Spalding town, which was scarcely more than two good bow-shots distant from the cell, lighting the beacon on the tower, and sounding all the blast-horns on the house-top to summon the whole neighbourhood to their aid; but the superior bade them reflect that this would attract the notice of Ivo Taille-Bois, and be considered as an hostile defiance; that the neighbourhood was very thinly peopled by inexpert and timid serfs, and that most of the good men of Spalding town who possessed arms and the art of wielding them had already taken their departure for the Camp of Refuge. At last the superior said, “We cannot attempt a resistance, for by means of a few lighted arrows the children of Satan would set fire to our upper works, and so burn our house over our heads. We must submit to the will of Heaven, and endeavour to turn aside the wrath of our arch-persecutor. Lucia,[[33]] the wife of Ivo Taille-Bois, was a high-born Saxon maiden when he seized upon her (after slaying her friends), and made her his wife in order to have the show of a title to the estates. As a maiden Lucia was ever good and Saxon-hearted, especially devout to our patron saint,[[34]] and a passing good friend and benefactress to this our humble cell. She was fair among the daughters of men, fairest in a land where the strangers themselves vouchsafe to say that beauty and comeliness abound;[[35]] she may have gotten some sway over the fierce mind of her husband, and at her supplications Ivo may be made to forego his wicked purposes. Let us send a missive to the fair Lucia.”
Here Brother Cedric reminded Father Adhelm that a letter would be of little use, inasmuch as the fair Lucia could not read, and had nobody about her in the manor-house that could help her in this particular. “Well then,” said the superior, “let us send that trusty and nimble messenger Elfric to the manor-house, and let him do his best to get access to the lady and acquaint her with our woes and fears. What sayest thou, good Elfric?”
Albeit the novice thought that he had been but badly rewarded for his last service, he crossed his arms on his breast, bowed his head, and said, “Obedience is my duty. I will adventure to the manor-house, I will try to see the Lady Lucia, I will go into the jaws of the monster, if it pleaseth your reverence to command me so to do. But, if these walls were all of stone and brick, I would rather stay and fight behind them: for I trow that the fair Lucia hath no more power over Ivo Taille-Bois than the lamb hath over the wolf, or the sparrow over the sparrow-hawk.”
“But,” said the superior, “unless Heaven vouchsafe a miracle, we have no other hope or chance than this. Good Elfric, go to thy cell and refresh thyself with sleep, for thou hast been a wayfarer through long and miry roads, and needest rest. We too are weary men, for we have read a very long letter and deliberated long on weighty trying business, and the hour is growing very late. Let us then all to bed, and at earliest morning dawn, after complines, thou wilt gird up thy loins and take thy staff in thine hand, and I will tell thee how to bespeak the Lady Lucia, an thou canst get to her presence. I will take counsel of my pillow, and call upon the saints to inspire me with a moving message that I shall send.”
Elfric humbly saluted the superior and all his elders by name, wished them a holy night, and withdrew from the refectory and hall to seek the rest which he really needed: but before entering his cell he went to the house-top to look out at the broad moon, and the wood, and the river, and the open country, intersected by deep cuts and ditches, which lay in front of the succursal cell. The night had become frosty, and the moon and the stars were shining their brightest in a transparent atmosphere. As the novice looked up the course of the Welland he thought he distinguished something afar off floating on the stream. He looked again, and felt certain that a large boat was descending the river towards the house. He remained silent and almost breathless until the vessel came so near that he was enabled to see that the boat was filled with men-at-arms, all clad in mail, who held their lances in their hands, and whose shields were fastened to the sides of the boat, glittering in the moonlight. “I count forty and one lances and forty and one shields,” said the youth to himself, “but these good friars will tell me that I have seen bulrushes and willow-leaves.” He closed his eyes for a time and then rubbed them and looked out again. There was the boat, and there were the lances and the shields and the men-at-arms, only nearer and more distinct, for the current of the river was rapid, and some noiseless oars or paddles were at work to increase the speed without giving the alarm. “I see what is in the wind,” thought Elfric; “the Normans would surprise us and expel us by night, without rousing the good people of Spalding town.” He ran down the spiral staircase; but, short as was the time that he had been on the housetop, every light had been extinguished in the hall during the interval, every cell-door had been closed; and a chorus of loud snores that echoed along the corridor told him that, maugre their troubles and alarms, all the monks, novices, and lay-brothers were already fast asleep. “I will do what I can do,” said the youth, “for if I wake the superior he will do nothing. If the men of Spalding town cannot rescue us, they shall at least be witnesses to the wrongs put upon us. Nay, Gurth the smith, and Wybert the wheelwright, and Nat the weaver, and Leolf the woodsman, be brave-hearted knaves, and have the trick of archery. From the yon side of those ditches and trenches, which these heavy-armed Normans cannot pass, perchance a hole or two may be driven into their chain jerkins!”
Taking the largest horn in the house he again ascended to the roof, and turning towards the little town he blew with all his strength and skill, and kept blowing until he was answered by three or four horns in the town. By this time the boat was almost under the walls of the monastery, and an arrow from it came whistling close over the youth’s head. “There are neither battlements nor parapets here,” said he, “and it is now time to rouse the brethren.” In a moment he was in the corridor rapping at the doors of the several cells, wherein the monks slept on, not hearing the blowing of the horns; but before half the inmates were roused from their deep slumber the Normans had landed from the boat, and had come round to the front of the house shouting, “Taille-Bois! Taille-Bois! Notre Dame to our aid! and Taille-Bois to his own! Get up, ye Saxon churls that be ever sleeping or eating, and make way for better men!”
The superior forgot his gout and ran to the hall. They all ran to the hall, friars, novices, lay-brothers, and hinds,[[36]] and lights were brought in and hurried deliberations commenced, in which every one took part. Although there was overmuch sloth, there was little cowardice among these recluses. If there had been any chance of making good the defence of the house, well I ween the major part of them would have voted for resistance; but chance there was none, and therefore, with the exception of Elfric, whose courage, at this time of his life, bordered on rashness, they all finally agreed with the superior that the wisest things to do would be to bid Hubert the portarius throw open the gate and lower the bridge; to assemble the whole community in the chapel, light up all tapers on the high altar and shrines, and chant the Libera Nos Domine—Good Lord deliver us!
“It is not psalmody that will save us from expulsion,” thought Elfric.
Now Hubert the porter was too old and too much disturbed in spirit to do all that he had to do without help; and Father Cedric bade the sturdy novice go and assist him.
“May I die the death of a dog—may I be hanged on a Norman gibbet,” said Elfric to himself, “if I help to open the gates to these midnight robbers!” And instead of following Hubert down to the gate, he went again (sine Abbatis licentiâ, without license or knowledge of his superior) to the house-top, to see whether any of the folk of Spalding town had ventured to come nigh. As he got to the corner of the roof from which he had blown the horn, he heard loud and angry voices below, and curses and threats in English and in Norman French. And he saw about a score of Spalding-men in their sheepskin jackets and with bows and knives in their hands, menacing and reviling the mail-clad men-at-arms. The Saxons soon got themselves well covered from the foe by a broad deep ditch, and by a bank; but some of the Normans had brought their bows with them, and a shaft let fly at the right moment when one of the Saxons was exposing his head and shoulders above the bank, took effect, and was instantly followed by a wild scream or yell—“Wybert is down! Wybert is slain!”