Part 14 (1/2)

Still it was very acceptable shelter to the travellers, who must otherwise have camped out on the exposed moorland, and they made a hearty and comfortable meal, which being concluded, Father Cuthbert made a very brief address.

”My brethren,” he said, ”we have travelled, like Abraham from Ur of the Chaldees, not '_sine numine_,' that is not without G.o.d's protection; and as we are about to sleep in a place where devils once deluded Christian people, it will not be amiss to say the night song, and commend ourselves '_in ma.n.u.s Altissimi_,' that is to say, to G.o.d's care.”

The compline service was familiar to each one present, and Father Cuthbert intoned it in a stentorian voice, particularly those portions of the 91st Psalm which seemed to defy the Evil One, and he recited just as if he were sure Satan was listening:

”Thou shalt go upon the lion and the adder; the young lion and the dragon shalt thou tread under thy feet.”

All the company seemed to feel comfort in the words, and, first posting a sentinel, to be relieved every three hours, they commended themselves to sleep.

Alfred found his couch very pleasant at first, but before he had been long asleep his rest became disturbed by singular dreams. He thought he was standing within a gra.s.sy glade in a deep forest; it was darkening twilight, and he felt anxious to find his way from the spot, when his guardian angel appeared to him, and pointed out a narrow track between two huge rocks. He followed until he heard many voices, and saw a strange light reflected on the tree tops, as if from beneath, when amidst the din of voices he recognised Elfric's tones.

”Wouldst thou save thy brother, then proceed,” his guardian angel seemed to whisper.

He strove, in his dream, to proceed, when he awoke so vividly impressed that he felt convinced coming events were casting their shadows before.

He could not drive the thought of Elfric from his mind; he slept, but again in wild dreams his brother seemed to appear; once he seemed to oppose Elfric's pa.s.sage over a plank which crossed a roaring torrent; then he seemed as if he were falling, falling, amidst rus.h.i.+ng waters, when he awoke.

”I can sleep no longer. I will look out at the night,” he said.

A faint moon had arisen, and lent an uncertain light to the outlines of hill, crag, and moorland, while it gilded the cornice above, where the wind seemed to linger and moan over departed greatness. The Druidical wors.h.i.+p of olden days, the deluded wors.h.i.+ppers now turned into dust, and the cruel rites of their bloodstained wors.h.i.+p, older even than those of the ruined temple, rose before his imagination, until fancy seemed to people the silent wastes before him with those who had once crowded round that circle of misshapen stones which stood out vividly on the verge of the plain.

He felt that nameless fear which such thoughts excite so strongly, that he sought the company of the sentinel whom they had posted to guard their slumbers, and found not one but two at the post.

”Oswy and Anlac! both watching?”

”It was too lonesome for one,” said Oswy.

”Have you seen or heard aught amiss?”

”Yes. About an hour ago, there were cries such as men make when they die in torture, smothered by other sounds like the beating of drums, blowing of horns, and I know not what.”

”You were surely dreaming?”

”No; it came from yonder circle of stones, and a light like that of a great fire seemed to s.h.i.+ne around.”

Alfred made no reply; but he remembered that they had talked of the Druidical rites the night before, and thought that the idea had taken such hold upon the minds of his followers as to suggest the sounds to their fancy. Still he watched with them till the first red streak of day appeared in the east.

CHAPTER X. ELFRIC AND ALFRED.

Early in the morning our travellers arose and took their way through an open country which abounded with British and Roman remains; no fewer than three entrenched camps, once fortifying the frontier of the Dobuni, lying within sight or hard by the road, which, skirting the summit of the watershed between the Thames and the Avon, afforded magnificent views.

About an hour after starting they came upon a singular monument of Druidical times, consisting of sixty huge stones arranged in a circular form, with an entrance at the northeast, while a single rock or large stone, the largest of all, stood apart from the circle, as if looking down into the valley beneath.[xix]

”What can be the origin of this circle?” said Alfred.

”It belongs to the old days of heathenesse; before the Welsh were conquered by the Romans, perhaps before our Blessed Lord came into the world, these stones were placed as you now see them,” replied Father Cuthbert.

”What purpose could they serve?”

”For their devil wors.h.i.+p, I suppose; you see those five stones which stand at some little distance?”