SHADOWS ACROSS THE PATH.
The night was far advanced. I had reached within a few steps from my
house when I saw through the dark a man crouching on the sill of one of
the windows. He seemed to be peeping through the shutters. I gave a
start. It was the window of my wife's room.
I seized Elwig's arm and said to her in a low voice:
"Do not budge--wait--"
She stopped and stood motionless. Controlling my emotion I advanced
cautiously, seeking to avoid making the sand crunch under my feet. I
failed. My steps were heard; the man jumped down from the window sill
and fled. I rushed after him. Thinking that I meant to leave her in the
lurch, Elwig ran after me, overtook me and seized me by the arm, crying
with terror:
"If I am found alone in the Gallic camp I shall be killed!"
Despite all I could do, I could not disengage myself of Elwig's hold
until after the man had vanished from sight. He had too long a lead and
the night was too dark for me to endeavor to catch him. Surprised and
uneasy at the incident, I retraced my steps, and knocked at the door of
my house.
I could hear from within the voices of my wife and her sister, who
seemed uneasy at my prolonged absence. Although they knew not that I
had gone to the Frankish camp, they had not yet retired.
"It is I!" I cried to them. "It is I, Schanvoch!"
The door was no sooner opened than my wife, seeing me by the light that
Sampso held in her hand, threw herself into my arms, saying in a tone of
sweet and tender reproach:
"At last you are back! We began to feel alarmed about you, seeing you
were gone since early morning."
"And we, who counted upon you for our little feast," put in Sampso; "but
I suppose you met with old comrades in arms, and time passed quickly in
their company."
"Yes, I suppose the conversation was strung out over battles," added
Ellen still hanging on my neck, "and my dear Schanvoch forgot his wife,
just a little--"
Ellen was interrupted by a cry from Sampso. She did not at first notice
Elwig, who had remained in shadow near the door. At the sight, however,
of the savage creature--pale, sinister and motionless--my wife's sister
could not repress her surprise and involuntary fear. Ellen quickly
stepped back, noticed the presence of the priestess, and gazing at me as
much surprised as her sister, said:
"Schanvoch, who is that woman?"
"Why, sister," cried Sampso forgetting the presence of Elwig and looking
at me more closely, "look, the sleeves of Schanvoch's blouse are red
with blood--he is wounded!"
My wife grew pale, stepped quickly back to me and anxiously scanned my
face.
"Calm yourself," I answered; "my wounds are slight. I concealed from you
both the mission on which I was bound. I went to the camp of the Franks,
our savage foes. I carried a message from Victoria."
"To the camp of the Franks!" Ellen and Sampso cried terrified. "That
meant death!"
"And this is the being who saved my life," I said to my wife, pointing
at Elwig, who stood motionless at the door. "I must bespeak the
attention of you both in her behalf until to-morrow."
When they learned that I owed my life to the Frankish woman my wife and
her sister hastened toward Elwig, moved by a simultaneous impulse of
gratitude; but they almost immediately stopped short, intimidated and
even frightened by the sinister and impassive countenance of Elwig, the
priestess, who seemed not to see them, and whose mind probably hovered
over scenes far away.
"Give her some dry clothes, those that she has on are wet," I said to my
wife and her sister. "She does not understand Gallic; your thanks will
be lost upon her."
"Had she not saved your life," Ellen said to me, "I would think the
woman's face looks somber and threatening."
"She is a savage like the rest of her people. Get her some dry clothes,
and I shall take her to the little side room, where I shall lock her up
as a matter of precaution."
Sampso went into a contiguous room to fetch a tunic and mantle for
Elwig, while I said to my wife:
"Did you hear any noise at the window of your room to-night, shortly
before I came in?"
"None whatever--neither did Sampso; she did not leave me since evening;
we both felt uneasy at your absence. But why do you ask?"
I did not then answer my wife, seeing that Sampso at that moment
returned with the clothes that she had gone after. I took them, passed
them over to Elwig and said to her:
"My wife and her sister offer you these clothes. Yours are wet. Is there
anything else that you wish? Are you hungry, or thirsty? What would you
have?"
"I want solitude," was Elwig's answer, rejecting the proffered clothes
with a gesture; "I want the black night. Only that will suit me at
present."
"Very well--follow me," I said to her.
Leading the way, I opened the door of a little chamber, and raising the
lamp in order to light its interior, I said to the priestess:
"You see yonder couch--rest yourself, and may the gods render peaceful
to you the night that you are to pass under my roof."
Elwig made no answer; she threw herself upon the couch and covered her
face with her hands.
"And now," I said to my wife as I closed and locked the door, "these
duties of hospitality being attended to, I burn with the desire to
embrace my little Alguen."
I found you, my child, sleeping peacefully in your cradle. I covered you
with kisses, that were all the sweeter to me seeing I had that very day
feared never to see you again. Your mother and her sister examined and
bandaged my wounds. They were slight.
While Ellen and Sampso were attending to me, I spoke to them of the man
whom I had caught sight of on the window sill, and who seemed to be
peeping through the shutters. They were greatly astonished at my words;
they had heard no sound; they had been together since evening. While
talking over the matter, Ellen said to me:
"Did you hear the news?"
"No."
"Tetrik, the Governor of Gascony and relative of Victoria, arrived this
evening. The Mother of the Camps rode out on horseback to meet him. We
saw him go by."
"And did Victorin accompany his mother?"
"He rode beside her. That must be the reason that we did not see him
during the day."
The arrival of Tetrik gave me food for reflection.
Sampso left me alone with Ellen. It was late. Early the next morning I
was to report to Victoria and her son the result of my mission to the
camp of the Franks.