Part 19 (1/2)

”We are in some danger, father. Hors.e.m.e.n, twelve of them, are galloping along the Foss Way in spite of the storm.”

Dunstan left the shelter, which was no longer needed, the rain having ceased, and followed the guide to the summit of the huge mound which marked the fall of some giant bastion of early days. From that position they could see the Foss Way, now about half-a-mile distant in the bright moonlight, and Dunstan's eye at once caught twelve figures--hors.e.m.e.n --sweeping down it like the wind, which brought the sound of their pa.s.sage faintly to the ear.

”Wait,” he said, ”and see whether they pa.s.s the bypath; in that case we are safe.”

The whole party was now on the mound, their persons carefully concealed from the view of the hors.e.m.e.n, while they watched their pa.s.sage with intense anxiety. The enemy reached the bypath; eleven of them pa.s.sed over it, but the twelfth reined his horse suddenly, almost upon its haunches, and pointed to the ground. He had evidently seen the tracks of the fugitives upon the soft turf.

The next moment they all turned their horses into the bypath.

”Follow,” said the guide; and they all rushed eagerly down the mound and mounted at once.

”Follow me closely; I think I can save you from them; only lose not a moment.”

The guide led them by a wandering path amongst the ruins, where their tracks would leave the least trace, until he pa.s.sed through a gap in the external fortifications on the opposite side. Then he rode rapidly along a descending path in the woods, until the sound of rus.h.i.+ng water greeted their ears, and they arrived on the brink of a small river which was swollen by the violent rain, and which dashed along an irregular and stony bed with fearful impetuosity.

There was but one mode of crossing it: a bridge constructed of planks was thrown over, which one horseman might pa.s.s at a time. The whole party rode over in safety, although the crazy old bridge bent terribly beneath the weight of each rider.

But when all were over, the guide motioned to Alfred and Oswy to remain behind for one moment, while the monks proceeded. He threw himself from his horse, and taking the axe which he had slung behind him, commenced hacking away at the bridge. But although the bridge was old, yet it was tough; and although Alfred, and Oswy who was armed with a small battle-axe, a.s.sisted with all their might, the work seemed long.

Before it was completed, they heard the voices of their pursuers calling to each other amongst the ruins. They had evidently lost the track, and were separating to find it.

Crash went one huge plank into the raging torrent, then a second, and but one beam remained, when a horseman emerged from the trees opposite, and by the light of the moon Alfred recognised his brother.

Desperate in the excitement of the chase, Elfric leapt from his horse, and drawing his sword rushed upon the bridge.

Alfred, who felt it tremble, cried:

”Back, Elfric! Back if you value your life!” while at the same moment, true to his duty, without raising his axe or any other attempt at offence, he opposed his own body in pa.s.sive resistance to Elfric's pa.s.sage over the beam.

Elfric knew the voice, and drew back in utter amazement. He had already stepped from the half-severed beam, when he saw it bend, break, and roll, with Alfred, who had advanced to the middle of the bridge, into the torrent beneath, which swept both beam and man away with resistless force.

CHAPTER XIII. THE RETURN OF ALFRED.

The reader is, we trust, somewhat impatient to learn the fate of Alfred of Aescendune, whom we left in so critical a position.

The fall of the bridge was so sudden and unexpected, that he scarcely knew where he was, till he found himself sucked rapidly down stream by the raging waters, when he struck out like a man, and battled for dear life. But the only result seemed to be that he was bruised and battered against the rocks and stones, until, exhausted, he was on the point of succ.u.mbing to his fate, as the current bore him into a calm deep pool, where he sank helplessly, his strength gone. But the guide and his companion Oswy had succeeded in reaching the spot, which was inaccessible from the other side, and plunging at once into the waters, the latter succeeded in bringing the dying youth to land. Dunstan and the other members of the party were soon on the spot; the lay brother was skilled in the art of restoring suspended animation, and they soon had the happiness of beholding Alfred return to consciousness; he raised his head, and gazed about him like one in a dream, not able to realise his position.

”Where am I? What have I been doing?” he exclaimed.

”You are safe, my dear son, and in the hands of friends,” replied Dunstan, ”although you have had a narrow, narrow escape; we are secure for the present from our foes.”

They consulted together in low tones as to their future movements, and the abbot inquired particularly of the guide concerning the fords and bridges.

”There is a ford only a mile or two away, but I expect they will find they cannot cross it.”

”Is there no place of refuge near? He is unable to sit his horse.”

”There is a cottage close by, kept by a cowherd, who is a good and true man.”

”Then lead us to it at once,” replied Dunstan.