“Cuthbert,” began the minstrel, “was a noble youth destined for a holy man. He had alway been straight and handsome, but all at once—
“The youth now bent beneath a sudden pain[2]
And led his languid footsteps with a pine.
When on a day as in the air he placed
His weary limbs, and meek yet mourning lay,
A horseman clothed in snowy garments came,
And graceful as a courser:—He saluted
The youth reclined, who offered his obeisance.
“My prompt attentions should be gladly paid
To you if grievous pains did not withhold me;
See how my knee is swelled—no leech’s care
Through a long lapse of time has soothed the evil.”
Straight leaped the stranger from his horse and stroked
The part diseased, thus counselling:
“The flour
Of wheat and milk boil quickly on a fire,
And spread the mixture warm upon the tumor.”
Remounting then he took the road he came;
And Cuthbert used his medicine, and found
That his physicians from th’ exalted throne
Of the Supreme had come, and eased his pain,
As with the fish’s gall he once restored
The light to poor Tobias.”
“That is like me,” said the Danish girl. “Oh, I wonder if that would avail my poor limb?”
“’Twill harm thee not to try it, and may it bring thee cure as it did Cuthbert.”
“And ever will I hold thee in grateful memory should it do so,” said Hilda. “Take this charm, minstrel, and if it cures as thou dost say, bring that to Hilda, and from this land’s demesne shalt thou receive a jarl’s share. Ay, with vill upon it, too.”
Alfred hesitated.
“From this land’s demesne?” he repeated. “Then dost thou own the land?”
“Not yet; but Alfred hath fled from our power, and soon will my father complete that which he hath so well begun. Fear not, minstrel! Thou shalt have thy share.”
“But—” began Alfred.
“The king doth wax impatient,” spake Egwina, quickly. “Should we not again soothe his brow with melody?”