Wamba did him the service he required, and they rode side by side for

some time, during which Gurth maintained a moody silence. At length he

could repress his feelings no longer.

"Friend Wamba," said he, "of all those who are fools enough to serve

Cedric, thou alone hast dexterity enough to make thy folly acceptable to

him. Go to him, therefore, and tell him that neither for love nor fear

will Gurth serve him longer. He may strike the head from me--he may

scourge me--he may load me with irons--but henceforth he shall never

compel me either to love or to obey him. Go to him, then, and tell him

that Gurth the son of Beowulph renounces his service."

"Assuredly," said Wamba, "fool as I am, I shall not do your fool's

errand. Cedric hath another javelin stuck into his girdle, and thou

knowest he does not always miss his mark."

"I care not," replied Gurth, "how soon he makes a mark of me. Yesterday

he left Wilfred, my young master, in his blood. To-day he has striven to

kill before my face the only other living creature that ever showed me

kindness. By St Edmund, St Dunstan, St Withold, St Edward the Confessor,

and every other Saxon saint in the calendar," (for Cedric never swore

by any that was not of Saxon lineage, and all his household had the same

limited devotion,) "I will never forgive him!"

"To my thinking now," said the Jester, who was frequently wont to act

as peace-maker in the family, "our master did not propose to hurt Fangs,

but only to affright him. For, if you observed, he rose in his stirrups,

as thereby meaning to overcast the mark; and so he would have done,

but Fangs happening to bound up at the very moment, received a scratch,

which I will be bound to heal with a penny's breadth of tar."

"If I thought so," said Gurth--"if I could but think so--but no--I saw

the javelin was well aimed--I heard it whizz through the air with all

the wrathful malevolence of him who cast it, and it quivered after it

had pitched in the ground, as if with regret for having missed its mark.

By the hog dear to St Anthony, I renounce him!"

And the indignant swineherd resumed his sullen silence, which no efforts

of the Jester could again induce him to break.

Meanwhile Cedric and Athelstane, the leaders of the troop, conversed

together on the state of the land, on the dissensions of the royal

family, on the feuds and quarrels among the Norman nobles, and on the

chance which there was that the oppressed Saxons might be able to

free themselves from the yoke of the Normans, or at least to elevate

themselves into national consequence and independence, during the civil

convulsions which were likely to ensue. On this subject Cedric was all

animation. The restoration of the independence of his race was the idol

of his heart, to which he had willingly sacrificed domestic happiness

and the interests of his own son. But, in order to achieve this great

revolution in favour of the native English, it was necessary that they

should be united among themselves, and act under an acknowledged head.

The necessity of choosing their chief from the Saxon blood-royal was not

only evident in itself, but had been made a solemn condition by those

whom Cedric had intrusted with his secret plans and hopes. Athelstane

had this quality at least; and though he had few mental accomplishments

or talents to recommend him as a leader, he had still a goodly person,

was no coward, had been accustomed to martial exercises, and seemed

willing to defer to the advice of counsellors more wise than himself.

Above all, he was known to be liberal and hospitable, and believed to be

good-natured. But whatever pretensions Athelstane had to be considered

as head of the Saxon confederacy, many of that nation were disposed

to prefer to the title of the Lady Rowena, who drew her descent from

Alfred, and whose father having been a chief renowned for wisdom,

courage, and generosity, his memory was highly honoured by his oppressed

countrymen.




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