"Be patient, stranger," said Torfrida, who bent tenderly over him, moistening his parched lips. "Ethel is on an errand of mercy to the sick poor."
"Ah! ye know not how I love this Ethel—things might have been different if Ethel had not left me."
As soon as Ethel returned from her mission, she was informed that a wounded stranger had come from far in quest of her. Immediately she hastened to the bedside of the sick one, wondering, and tremulous with agitation, and with many strange misgivings of heart.
It was as she feared—there lay Sigurd in pain and great weakness, his broad frame shattered and wasted almost to skin and bone. It was palpable also, that the fierce, restless spirit was hopelessly and rapidly consuming the small remnant of vitality still spared to him. His eyes were deeply sunken, and shining with unnatural light, telling but too plainly that another grim and unwelcome visitor was lurking near, and that no human skill could long keep him at bay.
Ethel sat down beside him in her convent habit. What a transformation was here! Sigurd uttered a deep groan when he set eyes on her. The long flaxen locks, once the crown and glory of her youth, were cut short, and the remnant hidden by her hood. The blue eyes, so tender and expressive, and the fine, regular features were still there. The soft, fair skin was a shade paler, and the short time which had elapsed had palpably aged her, or else it was the cloister habit which made her seem so much older. One thin hand was immediately grasped by the worn and attenuated fingers of Sigurd, as he looked up most reverently into her face. This fair Saxon had long been to him St. Ethel, and her form was enshrined in his heart. He proceeded to question her in serious tones.
"I am well nigh hunted to death, as you see, Ethel—dead beat—dead beat at last. What think ye, Ethel; shall I get well?"
Ethel shook her head.
"I am afraid not in this world, my lord."
He responded with a low groan.
"But I can't be spared now, Ethel; the old cause is desperate now, and sorely in need of me. What will become of my oppressed countrymen, with never a leader to look to?"