The noble cloisters of Romsey, with the grand church rising in their
midst, had a lodging-place, strictly cut off from the nunnery, for
male visitors.
Into this Edgar Atheling rode with his armed train, and as they
entered, some strange expression in the faces of the porters and
guards met them.
"Had my lord heard the news?" demanded a priest, who hastened
forward, bowing low.
"No, Holy Father. No ill of my sister?" anxiously inquired the
Prince.
"The Mother Abbess is well, my Lord Atheling; but the King--William
the Red--is gone to his account. He was found two eves ago pierced
to the heart with an arrow beneath an oak in Malwood Chace."
"God have mercy on his poor soul!" ejaculated Edgar, crossing
himself. "No moment vouchsafed for penitence! Alas! Who did the
deed, Father Dunstan?"
"That is not known," returned the priest, "save that Walter Tyrrel
is fled like a hunted felon beyond seas, and my Lord Henry to
Winchester."
Young David pressed up to his uncle's side.
"Sir, sir," he said, "what a time is this! Duke Robert absent, none
know where; our men used to war, all ready to gather round you.
This rule will be ended, the old race restored. Say but the word,
and I will ride back and raise our franklins as one man. Thou wilt,
too, Bertram!"
"With all mine heart!" cried Bertram. "Let me be the first to do
mine homage."
And as Edgar Atheling stood in the outer court, with lofty head and
noble thoughtful face, pure-complexioned and high-browed, each who
beheld him felt that there stood a king of men. A shout of "King
Edgar! Edgar, King of England," echoed through the buildings; and
priests, men-at-arms, and peasants began to press forward to do him
homage. But he raised his hand--
"Hold, children," he said. "I thank you all; but much must come ere
ye imperil yourselves by making oaths to me that ye might soon have
to break! Let me pass on and see my sister."
Abbeys were not strictly cloistered then, and the Abbess Christina
was at the door, a tall woman, older than her brother, and somewhat
hard-featured, and beside her was a lovely fair girl, with peach-
like cheeks and bright blue eyes, who threw herself into David's
arms, full of delight.
"Brother," said Christina, "did I hear aright? And have they hailed
thee King? Are the years of cruel wrong ended at last? Victor for
others, wilt thou be victor for thyself?"
"What is consistent with God's will, and with mine oaths, that I
hope to do," was Edgar's reply.
But even as he stood beside the Abbess in the porch, without having
yet entered, there was a clattering and trampling of horse, and
through the gate came hastily a young man in a hauberk, with a ring
of gold about his helmet, holding out his hands as he saw the
Atheling.
"Sire Edgar," he said, "I knew not I should find you here, when I
came to pay my first DEVOIRS as a King to the Lady Mother Abbess"
(he kissed her unwilling hand) "and the Lady Edith."