When Bertram de Maisonforte opened his eyes again cold waters were
on his face, wine was moistening his lips, the burning of his wound
was assuaged by cooling oil, while a bandage was being applied, and
he was supported on a breast and in arms, clad indeed in a hauberk,
but as tenderly kind as the full deep voice that spoke in English,
"He comes round. How now, my child?"
"Father," murmured Bertram, with dreamy senses.
"Better now; another sup from the flask, David," again said the kind
voice, and looking up, he became aware of the beautiful benignant
face, deep blue eyes, and long light locks of the man in early
middle age who had laid him on his knee, while a priest was binding
his arm, and a fair and graceful boy, a little younger than himself,
was standing by with the flask of wine in his hand, and a face of
such girlish beauty that as he knelt to hold the wine to his lips,
Bertram asked--
"Am I among the Angels?"
"Not yet," said the elder man. "Art thou near thine home?"
"Alack! I have no home, kind sir," said Bertram, now able to raise
himself and to perceive that he was in the midst of a small hand of
armed men, such as every knight or noble necessarily carried about
with him for protection. There was a standard with a dragon, and
their leader himself was armed, all save his head, and, as Bertram
saw, was a man of massive strength, noble stature, and kingly
appearance.
"What shall we do for thee?" he asked. "Who hath put thee in this
evil case?"
Bertram gave his name, and at its Norman sound there was a start of
repulsion from the boy. "French after all!" he exclaimed.
"Nay, David," said the leader, "if I mind me rightly, the Lady
Elftrud of Boyatt wedded a brave Norman of that name. Art thou her
son? I see something of her face, and thou hast an English tongue."
"I am; I am her only son!" exclaimed Bertram; and as he told of his
wrongs and the usage he had met with, young David cried out with
indignation--
"Uncle, uncle, how canst thou suffer that these things should be?
Here are our faithful cnihts. Let us ride to the forest. Wherefore
should it not be with Red William and his ruffians as with Scottish
Duncan and Donald?"
"Hush thee, David, my nephew. Thou knowest that may not be. But
for thee, young Bertram, we will see what can be done. Canst sit a
horse now?"
"Yea, my lord, full well. I know not what came over me, even now,"
said Bertram, much ashamed of the condition in which he had been
found.
A sumpter horse was found for him, the leader of the party saying
that they would go on to his own home, where the youth's wound
should be looked to, and they could then decide what could be done
for him.
Bertram was still so far faint, suffering, weak, and weary, that he
was hardly awake to curiosity as to his surroundings, and had quite
enough to do to keep his seat in the saddle, and follow in the wake
of the leader's tall white horse, above which shone his bright chain
mail and his still brighter golden locks, so that the exhausted boy
began in some measure to feel as if he were following St. Michael on
his way to some better world.
Now and then the tall figure turned to see how it was with him, and
as he drooped more with fatigue and pain, bade one of the retainers
keep beside him and support him.
Thus at length the cavalcade left the heathery expanse and reached a
valley, green with meadow-land and waving corn, with silvery beards
of barley rippling in the evening light, and cows and sheep being
gathered for the night towards a dwelling where the river had been
trained to form a moat round low green ramparts enclosing a number
of one-storied thatched houses and barns, with one round tower, a
strong embattled gateway, and at a little distance a square church
tower, and other cottages standing outside.
A shout of ecstasy broke out from the village as the advancing party
was seen and recognised. Men, women, and children, rudely but
substantially clad, and many wearing the collar of the thrall, ran
out from their houses, baring their heads, bowing low, and each in
turn receiving some kind word or nod of greeting from the lord whom
they welcomed, while one after another of his armed followers turned
aside, and was absorbed into a happy family by wife or parent. A
drawbridge crossed the moat, and there was a throng of joyful
servants in the archway--foremost a priest, stretching out his hands
in blessing, and a foreign-looking old woman, gray-haired and dark-
eyed, who gathered young David into her embrace as he sprang from
his horse, calling him her heart's darling and her sunshine, and
demanding, with a certain alarm, where were his brothers.
"In Scotland, dear Nurse Agnes--even where they should be," was
David's answer. "We are conquerors, do you see! Edgar is a crowned
and anointed King--seated on the holy stone of Scone, and Alexander
is beside him to fight for him!"
"It is even so, nurse," said the elder man, turning from the priest,
to whom he had more briefly spoken; "God hath blessed our arms, and
young Edgar has his right. God shield him in it! And now, nurse,
here is a poor youth who needs thy care, after one of Red William's
rough jests."