"Bretwul!" said he; but, his eye alighting on Ethel, he suddenly paused. "I crave your pardon," said he, hastily doffing his cap. "Matters of importance, which stand not on ceremony, have brought me."
"What are they, my man?" said Ethel, eager and apprehensive.
"The Earl is slightly unwell," said the stranger, noticing Bretwul's cautioning gesture; "and I have ridden hard to request that a bed may be prepared."
"My dream! my dream!" almost shrieked Ethel, starting from her seat. "He is not dead yet! Say he is not dead?"
"Calm yourself, lady," said Bretwul, giving the stranger another significant look.
"No, no, lady; a mere scratch. A few weeks of your nursing will set him on his feet as sound as a rock. But you will make ready, Bretwul? They are not far behind."
CHAPTER XXI.
VIKING CHIEF AND SAXON MAIDEN.
"He beheld
A vision, and adored the thing he saw."