The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1855-02-22

blood?n
Z" No. answered Kenric, sadly, that must
not be. For you are my brother. But / must
know all, or will do nothing. You can tell
iIie as We go; my home is in the valley Wonder.
There you can rest to night; tomorrow you must
sway to the wilderness, there to be safe, if YOU
Iaay, without bringing ruin upon those who,
doing all for you, look for nothing from you
but wrong and ingratitude.'
Tomorrow True brotherly affection /!
Right Saxon hospitality. Our fathers would
have called this nidering!"
Never heed thou that. Tell me all that
has passed, or thou goest not to my house,
even for this night only. For myself, care
nothing, and fear nothing. Ny wife, and my
mother-these, thy blind selfshness and brute
instincts, at least, shall not ruin.''
And thereupon, finding farther evasion use
hess, as they went homeward by circuitous
Path among the rocks and dingles, he revealed
all that the reader knows already, and this far
ther, which it is probable he has suspected, that
Eadwulf, lying concealed in the forest in pur-
suance OF some petty depreciation, had been q
witness OF the dastardly murder Of Sir Philip de
Morvile by the hands of Sir Foulke dolly
and his train, among whom most active was
the black seneschal, who had persisted SO fear
fully in the quicksands.
Terrible, terrible indeed" said Kenric, as
he ended his tale, doggedly told, with many
sullen interruptions. "Terrible his deed, and
terrible thy deeds, Eadwulf; and, of all, most
terrible the deeds of Him who worked out his
will by Storm and darkness, and the terror of the
mighty waters. And, of surety, terrible will
be the vengeance of Foulke dolly. He is not
the man to forget, nor are thy deeds, deeds to be
forgotten. But what shall say to thee, obsti-
nate, obdurate, ill-doer, senseess rash, migrate
full, selfish Already, in this little time, had
Edith and l laid by, out of our humble gains,
enough to purchase twothirds Of thy freedom.
Ere Yule-tide, thou hadst been as free man
as stands on English earth, and now thou art
an outlaw, under ban forever, and blood guilt
ness not to be pardoned; and upon us-us, who
would have coined our hearts blood into gold,
TO win thy liberty-thou hast brought the odor,
and the burden, and, / scarce doubt it, the
punishment, of thy wicked wilfulness. 1t were
better thou hadst persisted ffty-fold in the ac-
cursed sands of Lancaster, or ere thou hadst
done this thing. 1t were better hundred-fo
thou hadst never been born"
"Why dost not add, better a thousand fold
thou vert delivered up to the avenger of blood,
and then go deliver me?
"Words are lost upon thee" replied his
brother, shaking his head mournfully, Gas are
actions likewise. Follow me; thou must have
tendance and rest above all things, and tomor-
row must bring forth the things of tomorrow. -
Nothing more passed between them until
they reached the threshold of Kenric's humble
dwelling, where, in silence and darkness, with
the door ajar, listening to every distant sound
OF the htful breeze or passing water, the fair
young wife safe, awaiting them
She arose, as they entered. "Ah! it is thou,
EoHt 6. / 4 al
and sit. Wilt eat or battle, first? thou art worn
and weary, brother, as can see by this gloam-
ing light. There is good bed ready for thee.
under the rafers, and in the morning thou wilt
awake, refreshed and strong -
"Thou thought'st so from the first. war
rant me thou didst-mayhap thy husband told
thee So Brother, too lie hath not greeted me
as brother. Eat, battle, sleep? neither of the
three, girl. I'll drink first of all and, if that
please thee, then eat, then sleep and battle
when / may, perhaps not at ALL"
Bring him the mead pitcher, Edith, and the
big horn, and then, avoid ye. There is blood
on his hand, and worse than blood on his soul
Leave the meat on the board I'll see to him.
And when his wishes were fulfilled, they were
left alone, and long, gloomy conversation fol-
lowed; and if the dark, sullen, and unthankful
heart of the younger brother was in no sort
touched, or his better feelings-if he had any
awakened, at least his fears were aroused, and,
casting aside all his moroseness, he became a
humble, l had almost said craven, suppliant
for protection.
"Protecton!" said Kenric, / have it not to
give, nor can | ask those who could / know
not, in truth, whether in sheltering you, even
now, do not risk the safety of all that is dear
to me. What can do, will. This night, and
all the day. tomorrow, will conceal thee here,
come of it what come may and, at the dead of
the next night, will guide thee, through the
passes, to the upper hill country, where thou
wilt soon find men, like myself, of desperate
lives and fortunes. Money, so much as have,
| will give thee, and food for thy present need !;
but arms, save thy wood-knife, thou shalt take
none hence. l will not break faith nor betray
duty to my lord let what may come of it; and,
if find thee trespassing on his chase, or hunt
ing of his deer, will deal with thee stran-
ger, not as kinsman. No thanks, Eadwulf /;
nor no promises. have no faith in thee nor
any hope save that we never more may meet
again. And So good night"
And with the word, he led him to a low
room under the rafters, furnished with toler-
able bed, but remote from all observation,
where he was tended all the following day, and
watched by Edith, or by himself in person,
until the next night settled dark and moonless
over wild fell and mountain tarn when he
conducted him up the tremendous passes which
lead to the desoate but magnificent wilderness,
stretching, in those days, untrodden save by
the deer, the roebuck, the tusky boar, the gray
wolf, or the grizzly outlaw, for countless
leagues around the mighty masses of Helvellyn,
Saddleback, and Skiddaw the misty mountain
refuge of all conquered races-of the grim
Celts from the polished Romans, of the effete
Brtons from the sturdy Saxons, of the van
pushed Anglo-Saxons from the last victorious
Normans.
They parted, with oaths of fidelity and vows
of gratitude never to be fulfilled on the part of
Eadwulf, with scarce concealed distrust on the
part Of Kenric.
1t was broad day when the latter returned
to his happy home by Kentmere; and the first
object he beheld was his wife, gazing despond-
ingly on his own cross-bow and bolts, each
branded with his name" kenric, born thrall
of Philip de Morvile," of which unwittingly he
had disarmed his brother on the night OF his
arrival
His heart fell as he looked upon the we'll
known weapons; and thought that probably it
was one of those marked and easiyrecognised
bolts which had quivered in the heart of the
bailiff of Waltheofstow; but his wife knew not
the dark tale, and he was not the man to dis
turb her peace of mind, however his own might
be distracted by any dubious or uncertain fear.
ut is my old arbalast," he said, (which
Eadwulf brought with him from our ancient
home. Lay it aside. / will never use it more;
but it will be as memento of what we once
were, but, thanks to God and our good lords,
are no longer. And now, give me my break
fast, Edith; must be at the castle, to speak
of all this with Sir Yvo, ere noon; will be
back tonight, girl; but not, ! trow, until the
northern bear has sunk behind the hills. I'LL
then, may He keep theel"
And he was grave and distracted during all