"Ah! they have made me a wolfshead truly, but they have not done with me yet, Ethel; not done with me, they will find! Broken in spirit, as I am, I do not fear them; nor do I care what price they have put upon my head. I have nothing to live for, but I will die like a Viking. If it will be a peril to you if I go with you, well, let it be so; but 'tis bitter parting, Ethel."
"Do not fear on my account, my lord. The Abbot Adhelm has made arrangement for two of the monks to bear me company; and their sacred office and my vow will protect both them and myself from the violence of the Normans."
"Shall I never see ye more, Ethel? Never more? Won't ye come sometimes just to have a look at the old hills again? and I'll meet ye, and we'll see how the world fares with you and me. Promise me ye'll come sometimes, Ethel, and let me look upon your sweet face. I've nought to live for but you!"
Ethel was deeply moved at Sigurd's importunity, but she said,—
"My lord, I cannot hope to meet you any more on earth; but I will venture to hope and pray that, when our God, who is a God infinite in mercy and compassion, shall strike the balance betwixt right and wrong, between high ideals and a grovelling ambition—in short, when He shall 'judge the world in righteousness,' He will find that the recording angel has made many an entry to your account, and blurred out many a fault with his tears; and that after all it will be found that your erring but sturdy virtues outweigh by far your many faults, and the limitations of your life. Then we shall meet again beyond the grave, where we shall see eye to eye, and 'where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest.' Once more adieu, my lord!" So saying, she sped on her way.
Sigurd stood silently watching her retreating form until she disappeared from view, and for several minutes he still stood gazing after her like one bereft, whilst his massive frame was shaken with powerful emotions. Then slowly he muttered to himself: "The sun is set upon all my hopes; my day is done, and all is lost, save love of country and revenge. I cannot, like this Oswald, bend and crouch. A Viking once a Viking for ever." Then, turning round, he crashed into the forest.
CHAPTER XLII.
VIKINGS ALL! AN OLD TIME SAGA.
"Sonorous metal, blowing martial sounds;
At which the universal host upsent
A shout, that tore hell's concave, and beyond
Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night."