“No vows for me,” said Elfric, “but vows to serve my country, and vows to love thee, oh Mildred! I was not meant to be a cloister-monk—albeit, if the Normans had not come into the fen country, and I had never been sent on the business of the Spalding cell to the house of thy mistress, and had never seen thee, fair Mildred, I might in all possibility have submitted quietly to the manner of life which had been chosen for me. But these accidents which have happened have made me feel that I love fighting better than praying, and loving much better than fasting. My superiors have all come to the same conclusion, and have liberated me, and have given me to the brave and bountiful Lord Hereward to be his page and sword-bearer, and whatsoever he may please to make me.” Maid Mildred tried to check her tongue, and to look composed or indifferent; but not being well practised in the art of concealing her feelings, she set up a cry of joy, and then falling on her knees she inwardly and silently thanked heaven that Elfric was not to be a monk, or one that could not be loved by her without sin. Perhaps the ex-novice understood what was passing in her mind; and perhaps he did not: for when he raised her up by her hand, and kept her hand closed within his own, and looked in her bright blue eyes, he said, “Mildred, art thou glad, indeed, at this my change of condition? Art thou, indeed, happy that I should be a soldier, fighting for the good English cause, and a sword-bearer constantly in attendance on the brave and bountiful Lord of Brunn, to go wherever he goeth, and to dwell with him in mansion and hall, when the battle is over and the camp struck; or wouldst thou have me back in the house at Spalding, and a monk for all my days?”
“It seemeth to me that when devout and learned men have opined that thou art fitter for a soldier than for a monk, it is not for a weak unlettered maid like me to gainsay it. In sooth thou lookest marvellously well in that soldier jerkin and baldric; and that plumed cap becomes thy merry face better than the hood. Thou carriest that sword too by thy side with a better grace than ever thou didst carry missal or breviary. But—but—alack and woe the while!—soldiers get killed and monks do not! Elfric, thou wert safer in thy cell.”
“No, Mildred, these are times when war rages in the convent as in the tented field. No house is safe from intrusion; and where I was, Norman should never intrude without finding at the least one bold heart to defy him and oppose him. A young man of my temper would encounter more danger in the cloisters than on the field of battle, and would perish unnoticed by the world, and without any service to his country. But as a soldier and follower of Hereward our great captain, I may aid the liberties of the Saxon people, and if I fall I shall fall, the sword in my hand, fighting like a man, with the broad green earth under me, and the open blue sky above me! I shall not die pent in cloister like a rat in his hole! and men will remember me when I am gone as the slayer of many Normans.... But turn not so pale, be not discomfited, my merry Mildred, at this thought of death! Of the thousands that go forth into battle the greater part always return, and return unscathed, whether they have been victorious or vanquished; but if victorious, the less is their loss. Death turns aside from those who fear him not, or are too busy and too earnest in a just cause to think about him. The brave live when the cowards perish: the dread carnage falls upon those who run away, or who are deaf to the voice of their leader. Our cause is just, and will be protected and blessed by heaven. We fight only for our own—for our own country, our own king, our own ancient laws and usages, our own church. The Lord Hereward is as politic as he is brave; he is famed even beyond seas as one of the greatest of commanders; and with such a cause and such a leader, upheld and followed as they must be by all honest and stout-hearted Englishmen, we cannot fail of victory. And when these Norman robbers shall be driven forth of the land, and good King Harold restored, there will be no more war, and no more danger.”
Mildred felt comforted, and they spoke no more of war. Elfric related all his wondrous adventures, and described all that he had seen in foreign lands when he was in quest of the Lord of Brunn, the maiden listening to him with wide-open, wondering eyes. Next he told her how ingeniously he had played the devil at Crowland, and driven away the Norman shavelings; and at this Mildred laughed out right merrily, saying that she would like to have seen it, and yet would not like to have seen it, and asking him what sort of vizard he had worn, and what had been his complexion as a devil. Elfric told her that he would appear to her, and frighten her as a devil some night soon, if she did not give him one kiss now; and so Mildred laughed a little, and blushed a little, and said nay a little, and then let the bold youth take what he asked for. It is weened and wotted by some that there had been kisses under the hood before now; but now the cucullus had given way to the cap, and there was no harm in it. All this talk and dalliance by the edge of the linden-grove occupied much time, yet the Ladie Alftrude and the Lord Hereward did not reappear; and much as Elfric loved his master, and Mildred her mistress, they did not think the time long, nor wish for their reappearing. Both, however, spoke much of the bold lord and the fair lady, and in settling their matters for them (as handmaidens and pages will aye be settling the loves and marriages of their masters and mistresses), they in a manner settled their own lots. The Lord of Brunn and the Ladie Alftrude, so long torn asunder, must soon be united for ever by holy church—that was quite certain; Elfric would never quit his lord—that was quite certain; Mildred could never leave her lady—that was equally certain; and from this they derived the consequent certainty that he, Elfric, and she, Mildred, must henceforward have a great deal of each other’s company. Further than this they did not go; for just as Elfric was about to propound another proposition, Lord Hereward and the Ladie Alftrude came forth from the grove, and took the direct path towards the manor-house, smiling each upon the youth and upon the maiden as they passed them. The ladie’s countenance was happy and serene, although her eyes showed that she had been weeping; the Lord Hereward had a clear, open, joyous face at all seasons, but now he seemed radiant with joy all over him: and as thus they went their way to the near house, followed by the young soldier and the young handmaiden, there were four of the happiest faces that ever the sun shone upon.
When they came to the good old Saxon house, where lowered drawbridge and open gate betokened the Saxon hospitality and the absence of all fear about Norman intruders, there was a universal throwing of caps into the air, with another loud and universal shouting of welcome to the Lord of Brunn; and every man, woman, and child there, whether a relative or retainer of the one house or of the other, whether a vassal to the young lord or to the young lady, coupled the names of the twain as if they were to be indissolubly joined, and still cried, “Long life to Lord Hereward and the Ladie Alftrude! Long life to the Ladie Alftrude and to Lord Hereward! God bless the bravest and fairest of the Saxons!” The impatience of these good people had been great, for great was their curiosity and great their appetite: they had all been longing to see, side by side, the long-separated and re-united pair, and the feast had been ready in the hall for the space of one hour or more.
It proved a much merrier feast than that given by Ivo Taille-Bois at the christening of his son; and if Elfric had sung well there, he sang much better here. Sundry kinsmen and kinswomen of the Ladie Alftrude, who had long journeys to make, and who had not been able to arrive before, arrived during the festivity; and, during the same season of joy, sundry scouts and messengers came in, and spoke either with the Lord of Brunn or with his sword-bearer; for Hereward in the act of being very merry could be very wise, and he could think of fighting at the same time that he was thinking of love: he had sent scouts into many parts, and other good Saxons that were living near Cam-Bridge, or Huntingdon, or Stamford, or other Norman stations, were now beginning to send messengers to him with all the information that could be procured, and with all the good suggestions they had skill to offer, for all good men fixed their hopes upon him. After communing for a short time with one of these trustworthy messengers, Hereward gave a merry peal of laughter, and said aloud, “So this Ivo Taille-Bois is coming hither to seek my bride! He shall be welcome! Let him come.”
CHAPTER XII.
THE MARRIAGE AND THE AMBUSCADE.
It was agreed on all sides that too much happiness had been lost already in their long separation, and that Alftrude and Hereward ought now to be married as quickly as possible; the great heiress whose lands were so coveted could be safe only under the protection of a warlike lord and devoted husband; and who was there in the land so brave and likely to be so devoted as the Lord of Brunn, who had known and loved her from his youth, and who had gotten her troth-plight? If the ladie remained single, and the fortune of war should prove for a season unfavourable, the Normans, by mixing fraud with force, might carry her off, as they carried off and forcibly wedded other English heiresses; but if she were once united to Hereward, even the Normans might hesitate ere they broke the sacred tie of the Church. Time was not needed for wooing, for there had been good and long wooing long ago; and but for the Normans would not Hereward and Alftrude long since have been husband and wife?[[143]] Thus reasoned all the kinsmen and kinswomen of the Ladie Alftrude; and yielding to their good advice, the Saxon heiress consented that her good old household priest should prepare the little church on the hill by the linden-grove, and that the wedding should take place on the morrow.
Hereward was urged by a pleasant spirit of revenge to be thus urgent; for Ivo Taille-Bois was coming on the morrow with his men-at-arms and with his brother Geoffroy, that unmannerly and unlucky wooer; and so the Lord of Brunn would fain bid them to his marriage feast, if so it might be. But Hereward kept this pleasant thought to himself, or explained it to none but Elfric and Girolamo of Salerno. The morning after that happy meeting in the linden-grove was a bright winter’s morning. The sun rarely shines so bright in the summer time in the fen country. The little church was ready, the good old English priest was robed and at the altar; the path leading from the manor-house to the church, in lack of flowers, was strewed with rushes, and the serfs of the Ladie Alftrude were ranged on either side of the path; the lady herself was attired[[144]] as became a bride (a Saxon bride in the good old time before our fashions were corrupted); her fair young kinswomen, who were to stand by her side at the altar, were dressed and ready, and all other persons and things were ready about two hours before noon. There was music and there were fresh shouts of joy in the hall and outside of the manor-house when Lord Hereward stepped forth with his blushing bride on his arm and headed the gay procession. But though gay, the attendance was not so great as it might have been, for a great many of the armed men were not there, and even the sword-bearer and the Salernitan were both absent. Maid Mildred thought it very strange and very wrong that Elfric should be away at such a happy juncture; but the truth is that Elfric and Girolamo, and many of the fighting men, had something else to do. The goodly procession soon reached the church porch, and then all entered that could find room without over-crowding their betters. But most of the armed men who had followed the procession either remained in the porch or stationed themselves on the hill side outside the church. It was noticed afterwards that these bold men often looked to their weapons, and that all the hinds and serfs that had been standing by the pathway had bills and bows, or long fen-poles loaded and spiked with iron. The household priest had scarcely said the Benedicite ere the alert Elfric came running up the hill and through the linden-grove and into the porch, and up to his lord’s side in the body of the church; and when Elfric had whispered a few words Hereward said, “Alftrude, let thy heart rejoice! I have caught as in a trap the villains that would have wronged thee! Saxons, all rejoice, and remain here, and move not until I return!” And so bowing to the priest, and praying his patience, the Lord of Brunn strode out of the church, leaving the fair ladie of Ey looking all astonishment and somewhat pale. Behind the church Elfric helped the lord to his armour and arms. While putting on his mail, Hereward said, “Are they well in? Art thou sure that thou hast caught this Ivo and his brother?”