The Vala met them at the threshold, and testified so little surprise
at the sight of the bleeding and unconscious Earl, that Vebba, who had
heard strange tales of Hilda's unlawful arts, half-suspected that
those wild-looking foes, with their uncanny diminutive horses, were
imps conjured by her to punish a wooer to her grandchild--who had been
perhaps too successful in the wooing. And fears so reasonable were
not a little increased when Hilda, after leading the way up the steep
ladder to the chamber in which Harold had dreamed his fearful dream,
bade them all depart, and leave the wounded man to her care.
"Not so," said Vebba, bluffly. "A life like this is not to be left in
the hands of woman, or wicca. I shall go back to the great town, and
summon the Earl's own leach. And I beg thee to heed, meanwhile, that
every head in this house shall answer for Harold's."
The great Vala, and highborn Hleafdian, little accustomed to be
accosted thus, turned round abruptly, with so stern an eye and so
imperious a mien, that even the stout Kent man felt abashed. She
pointed to the door opening on the ladder, and said, briefly:
"Depart! Thy lord's life hath been saved already, and by woman.
Depart!"
"Depart, and fear not for the Earl, brave and true friend in need,"
said Edith, looking up from Harold's pale lips, over which she bent;
and her sweet voice so touched the good thegn, that, murmuring a
blessing on her fair face, he turned and departed.
Hilda then proceeded, with a light and skilful hand, to examine the
wounds of her patient. She opened the tunic, and washed away the
blood from four gaping orifices on the breast and shoulders. And as
she did so, Edith uttered a faint cry, and falling on her knees, bowed
her head over the drooping hand, and kissed it with stifling emotions,
of which perhaps grateful joy was the strongest; for over the heart of
Harold was punctured, after the fashion of the Saxons, a device--and
that device was the knot of betrothal, and in the centre of the knot
was graven the word "Edith."