"Haec olim meminisse juvabit."
The more substantial viands were removed, generous wines from warmer climes were introduced, but there was no need of a harper or of minstrels, save Edmund himself, or of legends and tales to those whose lives had pa.s.sed amidst scenes of excitement. They were such as make history for future generations.
"How the wind howls without tonight!" observed Edmund; "it makes one value the blessing of a quiet home and a cheerful fireside. How often, Alfgar, have you and I lain on such nights under the shelter of a canvas tent, or even of a bush."
"Often, indeed, my liege; but those days are gone, perhaps for ever."
"They had their joys, nevertheless. There is something in a life of adventure which warms the blood and makes time pa.s.s swiftly; my goodwife and I sometimes tire of each other"s company, as I expect Ethelgiva and you will in time."
"Never!" said Alfgar, so fervently that there was a general smile.
"Well, time will show; meanwhile, how is the new hall at Aescendune getting on, Elfwyn?"
"It will be ready by next spring; then the young people must make it their home. Our home in the woods has proved a shelter to us through such troublous days that Hilda and I are loath to leave it. But, meanwhile, they must live with us."
"And how about the priory?"
"It will be ready before the hall."
"That is well," observed the bishop, "and as it should be-- G.o.d"s house first, and then man"s."
"Well, Hermann," said Edmund, addressing his young friend, whose career in arms he had closely watched since the attack upon the hall at Clifton, "how do you like the prospect of a long peace?"
"A peaceful life has its delights," replied Hermann, "but war has also its charms."
"Well, thou hast pa.s.sed unscathed through five great battles, or at least without any serious wound; but remember all are not so fortunate, and many a poor cripple sighs over Penn, Sherston, Brentford, Otford, or a.s.singdun."
"The excitement of war blinds one to the risk."
"So it should, or there would be no war at all. What does my father the bishop think of the matter?"
"That wars are necessary evils, only justifiable when fighting, as you, my lord, have done, for home and altar, but they are no true children of the Prince of Peace who delight in bloodshed and strife."
Edmund pondered.
"And yet I fear I must plead guilty of delighting in a gallant charge. It stirs the blood, till it flows like fire in the veins. The feeling is glorious."
"Yet not one to be encouraged, save when it enables one to perform necessary deeds of daring for some worthy object, such as holy Scripture praises in the heroes of old."
The conversation now became general. Elfwyn and Herstan talked of the old days of Dunstan; Alfgar and Hermann of the events of the recent war; the good bishop and Father Cuthbert on ecclesiastical topics; the ladies upon some question of dresses and embroidery for the approaching festivity, which seemed to interest them deeply, when an attendant entered, and approaching the king, whispered a message in his ear.
"What! in this house? I will not have it. He knows how hateful his very presence must be."
"Your sister, the Princess Elgitha?"
"Well, I will see her. No, I will not."
"It is too late, Edmund. You must see me," said a sweet voice, and a lady, attired in mourning weeds, stood beside him. "It is but seven months, Edmund, since we lost our father. Shall his children rend and devour each other?"
"I do not want to rend and devour. I am no cannibal; but, Elgitha, your wicked husband--"
"Stay, Edmund, do not slander the husband before his wife."
"This is a business! What am I to say? I cannot dissemble, and pretend to love him, were he ten times my brother-in-law."
"Nor can I ask it," said a deep voice behind, and Edric stood before Edmund, his eyes cast down, his hands meekly clasped. "Edmund, I have often deeply injured you, and betrayed your confidence."
"You have indeed."
"But now I repent me of my wickedness. It burdens me so heavily that, but for your sister, I would retire into a monastery, and there end my days."
"It would be the best thing you could do."
"It would indeed."
This conference had taken place at the end of the great hall, which was a very s.p.a.cious chamber, and the speakers were separated by a screen from the company.
"Edmund," cried his sister, "I see what you will do. You will make me a widow; for Edric cannot live if you refuse him forgiveness. Night after night he tosses on his uneasy bed, and wishes that it were day. Surely, Edmund, you have need of forgiveness yourself, yet you refuse to forgive."
"You preach like a bishop, but--"
"Well, you have a real bishop here. Call him, and let him judge between us."
Edmund mechanically obeyed, and he called Father Cuthbert also, in whose judgment he had great faith.
"What am I to do?" he said. "My country"s wounds, inflicted by this man, yet bleed. Am I to give him the hand of friendship?"
"I do not deserve it," said Edric, meekly.
"My lord," said the bishop, gravely, "man may not refuse forgiveness to his fellow worm; but, Edric, hast thou truly repented of thy sin before G.o.d and his Church?"
"I have indeed. I have fasted in sackcloth and ashes, I have eaten the bread of affliction."
"Where?"
"In my sad retreat, my castle in Mercia."
"But some public reparation is due. Art thou willing to accept such penance as the Church, in consideration of thy perjuries, thy murders, which man may not avenge, since treaties protect thee-- but which G.o.d will surely remember, if thou repent not--to accept such penance, I say, as the Church shall impose?"
"I submit myself to your judgment, most reverend father."
"It shall be duly considered and delivered to thee; and in consideration of that fact, I think, my lord, you cannot, as a Christian man, refuse to be reconciled."
"O Edmund, my brother, be merciful!" said Elgitha.
"I yield," said Edmund, "but not tonight," he said, as Edric stretched out his hand, reddened by many a dark deed of murder; "tomorrow, before G.o.d"s altar. I shall be at St. Frideswide"s at the early ma.s.s."
And he returned to the company.