It was then that, feeling greatly refreshed, he ventured upon asking her in whose house he was, and who was the good lord who had taken pity on him.
'Who should it be save him who should be the good lord of every Englishman,' she replied, 'mine own dear foster-son, the princely Atheling-he who takes up the cause of every injured man save his own?'
Bertram was amazed, for he had only heard Normans speak of Edgar Atheling, the heir of the ancient race, as a poor, tame-spirited, wretched creature, unable to assert himself, and therefore left unmolested by the conquerors out of contempt. He proceeded to ask what the journey was from which the Atheling was returning, and the nurse, nothing loth, beguiled the tendance on his arm by explaining how she had long ago travelled from Hungary with her charges, Edgar, Margaret, and Christina; how it had come about that the crown, which should have been her darling's, had been seized by the fierce duke from beyond the sea; how Edgar, then a mere child, had been forced to swear oaths of fealty by which he held himself still bound; how her sweetest pearl of ladies, her jewel Margaret, had been wedded to the rude wild King of Scots, and how her gentle sweetness and holiness had tamed and softened him, so that she had been the blessing of his kingdom till he and his eldest son had fallen at Alnwick while she lay a-dying; how the fierce savage Scots had risen and driven forth her young children; and how their uncle the Atheling had ridden forth, taken them to his home, bred them in all holiness and uprightness and good and knightly courage, and when Edgar and Alexander, the two eldest, were full grown, had gone northward with them once more, and had won back, in fair field, the throne of their father Malcolm.
Truly there might well be rejoicing and triumph on the estate where the Atheling ruled as a father and had been sorely missed. He was at his early mass of thanksgiving at present, and Bertram was so much better that Nurse Agnes did not withstand his desire to rise and join the household and villagers, who were all collected in the building, low and massive, but on which Edgar Atheling had lavished the rich ornamental work introduced by the Normans. The round arched doorway was set in a succession of elaborate zigzags, birds' heads, lions' faces, twists and knots; and within, the altar-hangings and the priest's robes were stiff with the exquisite and elaborate embroidery for which the English nunneries were famed.
The whole building, with its low-browed roof, circular chancel arch still more richly adorned, and stout short columns, was filled with kneeling figures in rough homespun or sheepskin garments, and with shaggy heads, above which towered the shining golden locks of the Atheling, which were allowed to grow to a much greater length than was the Norman fashion, and beside him was the still fairer head of his young nephew, David of Scotland. It was a thanksgiving service for their victory and safe return; and Bertram was just in time for the
The Atheling, after all was over, came forth, exchanging greetings with one after another of his franklins, cnihts, and thralls, all of whom seemed to be equally delighted to see him back again, and whom he bade to a feast in the hall, which would be prepared in the course of the day. Some, meantime, went to their homes near at hand, others would amuse themselves with games at ball, archery, singlestick, and the like, in an open space within the moat-where others fished.
Bertram was not neglected. The Atheling inquired after his health, heard his story in more detail, and after musing on it, said that after setting affairs in order at home, he meant to visit his sister and niece in the Abbey at Romsey, and would then make some arrangement for the Lady of Maisonforte; also he would endeavour to see the King on his return to Winchester, and endeavour to plead with him.
'William will at times hearken to an old comrade,' he said; 'but it is an ill time to take him when he is hot upon the chase. Meantime, thou art scarce yet fit to ride, and needest more of good Agnes's leech-craft.'
Bertram was indeed stiff and weary enough to be quite content to lie on a bearskin in the wide hall of the dwelling, or under the eaves without, and watch the doings with some amusement.
He had been bred in some contempt of the Saxons. His father's marriage had been viewed as a
But here was young David among youths of his own age, tilting as gracefully and well as any young Norman could-making Bertram long that his arm should cease to be so heavy and burning, so that he might show his prowess.
Here was a contention with bow and arrow that would not have disgraced the best men-at-arms of Maisonforte-here again, later in the day, was minstrelsy of a higher order than his father's ears had cared for, but of which his mother had whispered her traditions.
Here, again, was the chaplain showing his brother-priests with the greatest pride and delight a scroll of Latin, copied from a MS. Psalter of the holy and Venerable Beda by the hand of his own dear pupil, young David.
Bertram, who could neither read nor write, and knew no more Latin than his Paternoster, Credo, and Ave, absolutely did not believe his eyes and ears till he had asked the question, whether this were indeed the youth's work. How could it be possible to wield pen as well as lance?
But the wonder of all was the Atheling. After an absence of more than a year, there was much to be adjusted, and his authority on his own lands was thoroughly judicial even for life or death, since even under Norman sway he held the power of an earl.
Seated in a high-backed, cross-legged chair-his majestic form commanding honour and respect-he heard one after another causes that came before him, reserved for his judgment, questions of heirship, disputes about cattle, complaints of thievery, encroachments on land; and Bertram, listening with the interest that judgment never fails to excite, was deeply impressed with the clear-headedness, the ready thought, and the justice of the decision, even when the dispute lay between Saxon and Norman, always with reference to the laws of Alfred and Edward which he seemed to carry in his head.
Indeed, ere long, two Norman knights, hearing of the Atheling's return, came to congratulate him, and lay before him a dispute of boundaries which they declared they would rather entrust to him than to any other. And they treated him far more as a prince than as a Saxon churl.
They willingly accepted his invitation to go in to the feast of welcome, and a noble one it was, with music and minstrelsy, hospitality to all around, plenty and joy, wassail bowls going round, and the Atheling presiding over it, and with a strange and quiet influence, breaking up the entertainment in all good will, by the memory of his sweet sister Margaret's grace-cup, ere mirth had become madness, or the English could incur their reproach of coarse revelry.
'And,' as the Norman knight who had prevailed said to Bertram, 'Sir Edgar the Atheling had thus shown himself truly an uncrowned King.'
IV. WHO SHALL BE KING?
The noble cloisters of Romsey, with the grand church rising in their midst, had a lodging-place, strictly cut off from the nunnery, for male visitors.
Into this Edgar Atheling rode with his armed train, and as they entered, some strange expression in the faces of the porters and guards met them.
'Had my lord heard the news?' demanded a priest, who hastened forward, bowing low.
'No, Holy Father. No ill of my sister?' anxiously inquired the Prince.
'The Mother Abbess is well, my Lord Atheling; but the King-William the Red-is gone to his account. He was found two eves ago pierced to the heart with an arrow beneath an oak in Malwood Chace.'
'God have mercy on his poor soul!' ejaculated Edgar, crossing himself. 'No moment vouchsafed for penitence! Alas! Who did the deed, Father Dunstan?'
'That is not known,' returned the priest, 'save that Walter Tyrrel is fled like a hunted felon beyond seas, and my Lord Henry to Winchester.'
Young David pressed up to his uncle's side.
'Sir, sir,' he said, 'what a time is this! Duke Robert absent, none know where; our men used to war, all ready to gather round you. This rule will be ended, the old race restored. Say but the word, and I will ride back and raise our franklins as one man. Thou wilt, too, Bertram!'
'With all mine heart!' cried Bertram. 'Let me be the first to do mine homage.'
And as Edgar Atheling stood in the outer court, with lofty head and noble thoughtful face, pure-complexioned and high-browed, each who beheld him felt that there stood a king of men. A shout of 'King Edgar! Edgar, King of England,' echoed through the buildings; and priests, men-at-arms, and peasants began to press forward to do him
