A LOVERS’ TALE
A LOVERS’
TALE
BY
MAURICE HEWLETT
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
NEW YORK :::::: 1915
COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
Published March, 1915
[Illustration]
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I.--THE BROTHERS IN MIDFIRTH 1
II.--THE WHALE 5
III.--CORMAC GOES TO NUPSDALE 10
IV.--CORMAC WILL NOT BUDGE 22
V.--CORMAC IN LOVE 30
VI.--DOINGS AT TONGUE 44
VII.--FIGHTING AT TONGUE 58
VIII.--THE SPAE-WIFE’S CURSE 72
IX.--THE PLIGHTING 86
X.--THE DAY OF THE WEDDING 106
XI.--BERSE COMES IN 124
XII.--STANGERD’S WEDDING 135
XIII.--CHASE 150
XIV.--PARLEY 167
XV.--CORMAC MAKES READY 176
XVI.--BATTLE 185
XVII.--BERSE GOES HOME 196
XVIII.--DOINGS AT THE THING 209
XIX.--STANGERD FREES HERSELF 218
XX.--TOOTHGNASHER 232
XXI.--THORWALD THE TINSMITH 243
XXII.--CORMAC COMES BACK 254
XXIII.--STANGERD GOES TO THE FLEET 267
XXIV.--THE NIGHT IN THE WOOD 273
XXV.--THE END OF IT 290
NOTE 294
A LOVERS’ TALE
A LOVERS’ TALE
CHAPTER I
THE BROTHERS IN MIDFIRTH
Into Midfirth runs the Mell river through mudflats and marl to mix
green water with the salt waves. On either side the land is rich and
wet, giving fine pasture, and you can hardly see the snow peaks beyond
the fells from which Mell comes down cold and green and clear. There on
the brae stood Melstead, and there it stands yet. Once it was the house
of Ogmund and his wife Dalla; but he died before the tale begins, which
begins with Dalla, a widow and blind, and her two grown sons--Thorgils
and Cormac.
Dalla had been a fine girl when she married Ogmund, as he himself was
a fine man, who had been a fighter and a Viking in his day. Between
them they had this couple of fine sons, of whom Thorgils, the elder,
favoured his father, but had little of his quality. A broad-shouldered,
fair-haired, sleepy young man he was now, steady at his work, and
in his ways mild and quiet. He thought twice before he spoke, and
therefore seldom spoke at all. If everybody did that, the world would
be a peaceful place and much work done in it; but it would be very
dull. Cormac took after his mother in looks, being vivid black and
white. His hair was jet-black and curled freely, his face was very high
in colour, that ran off to white in his forehead and neck. His eyes
were light grey and rather fierce. He was a wild young man, but very
friendly after the bout. He had no idea how strong he was; but his
brother knew, though they were very good friends for all that. He had
a keen eye for the flight of a bird or the play of a fish, knew the
weather by the smell of it, and could sing and make verses. Sometimes
he made verses because he had been moved; sometimes he was moved
because he had made verses; and often he did not know which way it had
been with him. Although he had no notion of setting up for a poet, he
thought about himself and his sensations a good deal, and had found out
already that he did not greatly care to do anything unless he could
watch himself doing it, and watch the thing done as it suffered the
doing. That’s a poet all over; but he didn’t know it. It gave him the
conclusion, however, that he was very unlike his father, the Viking, to
whom the killing of a man was not at all the same as the killing of a
pig. But Cormac, who had never killed a man yet, fancied that, to him
at least, there would be no essential difference. His father again (he
had heard) had loved many women, while he had loved never a one. But
his father had been very jealous in his loves, and had killed almost as
many men because they had intermeddled in his love-affairs. Now Cormac,
thinking that over, felt very sure that he should never be jealous if
he were a lover. He theorised at large about it; he gave the subject a
great deal of attention. Love-making must enhance a woman, he thought,
even in the minds of her lovers. If she was beautiful, it was surely
her due. If she was plain, it would provoke desire. What more lovely
sight could the world offer a man than to see the woman he longed
for the burning-point of the world’s longing? He kept these ideas to
himself because he had nobody but his mother to whom he could have
imparted them. She would have laughed at him and made him angry.
When this tale begins, Cormac was a full-grown man, strong for his age.