BADGER ON THE ALERT.
"A thing of shreds and patches."
Shakespeare.
After the incidents narrated in the foregoing chapter, there followed a
scene of complete disorder. Many of those who were well affected towards
the Prince and his cause, fell away from him, and quitted the dwelling
with Sigurd and myself; and speedily the Atheling was left quite alone,
saving his personal friends, who had journeyed with him from Scotland,
and who were mostly foreigners.
Whilst this had been transpiring, most of the camp was wrapped in
profound slumber. The followers and housecarles who had accompanied
their masters, had found resting-places in the outhouses, amid the hay
and bracken which had been accumulated for the fodder and bedding of the
cattle during the winter months. But Badger was ill at ease amid it all.
Some presentiment of evil disturbed his slumbers, and he turned uneasily
again and again; finally he sprang bolt upright, and grasped his sword,
at the same time giving Wulfhere a rough shake, which thoroughly roused
him also on the instant.
"What is the matter, Badger? Anything amiss?"
"Hush! there are men astir in the camp. I warrant there is some mischief
abroad, and I'll know the bottom of it."
At that moment two men entered stealthily at the farther end, where the
horses were stalled. Wulfhere and Badger drew their swords, and
instinctively ran their fingers down the blades in the darkness. The
movements of the two men were plainly visible to the watchers, for the
moonlight streaming in through the open door showed their outline very
distinctly as they moved to and fro. Immediately the men began to saddle
several horses belonging to the Prince, and then they led them out.
"There is a move of some sort, Wulfhere, and I warrant mischief is in
it, for there are snakes about. A murrain on them! I am determined to
know what it means. You stay here," said Badger--he, at the same time,
stealing noiselessly out at the opposite end of the building.
As soon as he reached the open air, he saw, across the enclosure, that
there were lights in the dwelling; so he nimbly dodged round, keeping in
the shadow of the buildings, until he reached the rear of the house.
There, peering through a crazy, patched window, he not only saw what was
going on inside, but he overheard this conversation between the Atheling
and his favourite Alred:--
"My stomach will stand no more on't, sweet Alred. Such a ruffian,
boorish crew are not fit company for a prince. Then I believe that huge,
over-grown Norse clown would carry out his threat, and take my life in a
moment, if he got the chance. Curses on them all! Upon my soul, I wish
the Normans would swoop down upon them, and cut the vile hogs into
mincemeat."
"Bravo, Prince! That is a Heaven-sent suggestion, upon my soul!"
interjected Alred. "I match you against any one of the seven sages.
Whew! it just jumps with my humour. The Normans are in force, too, not
more than half a dozen miles away. What a _tour-de-force_ to bring the
Normans down upon them by the morning! 'Twould be a stroke of policy
William could not excel. Ah! look here--speaking of William: he would
load you with favours, and replenish your royal treasury bountifully;
then, heigho! there would always be a flowing bowl of Rhenish, or good
Canary, and the sweet blue eyes of my lady-love would sparkle again. A
fig for a kingdom, and the toiling and moiling of it! Give me the jolly
life where care sits lightly, and my own sweet will can be indulged. To
Rouen, say I again, with William's goodwill and his gold pieces!"
"Let us away, Alred! Upon my soul, revenge is sweet. You say right, too;
when one does a service for William, there follow royal gifts enow. I
would rather have a double purpose than a bootless errand, any day?
Where are the churls who are saddling the horses?"
Having overheard this speech, Badger darted back to his comrade, who was
awaiting his return impatiently.
"Heigho, Wulfhere! this princeling plots mischief. He will betray the
camp, the hound, I do believe. Come along; let us dog his footsteps."
So the pair sallied out of the enclosure in the wake of the Prince, his
parasites, and several serving-men. The party slowly threaded their way
through the woods and entered a narrow defile between precipitous hills
on either side; all the while being steadily followed by the two Saxons.
Suddenly, on one side, the mountain range came to an abrupt termination,
ending in a bold promontory running up to a point. At this juncture the
valley broadened out into magnificent proportions, and a spacious lake
of water gleamed in the darkness. Turning to the left, they skirted the
lake for a couple of miles or more. Suddenly, however, they were
confronted by a pair of Norman sentries, who challenged the party, and
some time was spent in _pourparlers_; then one of the sentries
accompanied them to the Norman encampment, not more than a quarter of a
mile away, the lurid light of their fires making visible some portions
of the Norman quarters.
Wulfhere and Badger were obliged to come to a halt, for the remaining
sentry barred their further progress, even if they dared come nearer the
encampment of the enemy. They waited and watched until they saw the
forms of the Prince and his followers come within the circle of light
thrown off by the blazing wood fires.
"Now," said Wulfhere, "there is nothing more to be done, Badger, I
think. Let us go back now, and promptly warn our friends."
"Hold there, Wulfhere; there is something more to be done. Get _thee_
back, and do thine errand. I have a little further business here, I can
see. Tell the Earl I shall be rounding the great Nab's Head about break
of day."
"What hast thou in the wind, Badger? Thou wilt be hazarding one prank
too many some of these days."
"Never fear, comrade, I know my way about, whether it be light or dark.
Besides, my business is such as would disgrace a half-bred knight like
thyself. Dost thou see, Grizzly here, and myself, have no dignity to
uphold? so we may do anything either boldly or slily, as it suits our
humour, if it only brings grist to the mill. Well, now be off. There is
no time to talk, for it only hinders business. Come, Grizzly," said
Badger, addressing his hound as soon as the form of Wulfhere was lost to
view. "You know, Grizzly, you and I are not supposed to be above
borrowing a few head of cattle, or to be too proud to do our own
droving, at a pinch."
The fact was, the lynx eyes of Badger had espied a herd of cattle lying
together under the trees by the side of the lake, although the darkness
was so deep that none but keen eyes would have detected their presence.
He had seen them at once, and instantly his nimble brain began revolving
some scheme for carrying them off.
"The cackling and talking has come to naught, as it mostly does," said
he grunting to himself; "but beshrew me if I like a bootless errand.
I'll try a cast of my own net, whether there is aught to it or not."
Now there was but one formidable obstacle in the way, and that was the
solitary sentinel who still stood at his post, and who continued slowly
pacing to and fro in a limited space.
Badger turned to the hound and addressed him, for he was in the habit of
having sundry conferences with his favourite, who had partnered him in
many a daring exploit.
"Well, Grizzly, what is to be done now? Eh, sir? We must have yon
cattle, Grizzly, come fair or come foul. There is this scurvy Norman in
the way. What are we to do with him? I think we can dispose of him
somehow or other. What say you?"
Grizzly answered by a vigorous attempt to lick Badger's chops.
"Eh, sir? I don't doubt but we can finish him off easily enough, you and
I together, Grizzly. But what will our Abbot say? Are you aware, sir,
that you and I have a sacred calling--that we belong to the monastic
order? Don't you remember the many sermons we have from our Abbot, on
loving our enemies? I don't quite see the turn of the wit in the case of
these Norman dogs, somehow or other. No doubt it is sound doctrine
enough, but bad to practise. Well, let that pass. I have a feeling,
though, I would rather not brain this fellow, if another turn will serve
as well. Now it would certainly ease my mind to do it if I caught him,
_flagrante delicto, flagrante delicto_. Grizzly, did you note, that is
the _monk_ that is speaking? You see I can mouth my Latin when it
pleases me, Grizzly. There is many a scurvy monk knows less. But I say,
Grizzly, I fancy the fellow's knees are knocking together already with
fear at being left alone, and that is very suggestive. Let us try
playing ghost with him."
So saying, Badger divested himself of his upper garments, leaving his
shoulders and the upper parts of his body exposed. Then he took the
garments and tied them deftly about the shoulders of Grizzly, giving him
a most strange and uncouth appearance. Having done this, and without
exposing themselves to view, Badger commenced to give forth, in a low
tone, the most dismal groans, and varying this by most piercing shrieks
of pain.
The Norman turned a terrified gaze in the direction from whence these
strange noises came, evidently in great trepidation and fear. Then he
darted off a few paces, as though about to beat a hasty retreat. This
was enough. Badger saw at once that the ruse would answer. So, without
more ado, he dropped down on all fours, and, accompanied by the dog,
each of them presenting a most unearthly and fantastic appearance, they
started off in the direction of the sentinel, the groans and shrieking
of Badger deepening, and becoming most diabolical in tone and intensity.
The Norman for one moment turned a scared gaze on the advancing figures,
which appeared to him to be none other than the Saxon devil Zernebock,
of which many Normans went in mortal dread. Then, with the speed of the
wind, he took to his heels and dashed off towards the camp. Quick as
thought, Badger freed the dog from his trammels, and bade him fetch the
cattle. In a very few minutes he was making off, all speed, with the
herd.