Part 16 (1/2)
Now he sat up, and beheld, or thought he beheld, a figure of one clothed in the attire of a minstrel, in the centre of the chamber.
”Art thou yet in the flesh like me?” he cried, repressing a shudder.
”Even so, a being of like mould, subject to pain and death.”
”A prisoner, then; art doomed to die?”
”No prisoner, neither art thou, if thou willest to escape.”
”Thou art the gleeman who insulted Sweyn.”
”Nay, who told the brutal tyrant the truth.”
”And what doest thou here?”
”I am come to deliver thee.”
”But how?”
”Rise up, cast on your garments.”
Hardly knowing what he did, Alfgar obeyed, and when he stood face to face with the stranger, began to lose the uneasy impression that the being who addressed him was otherwise than mortal; for he saw by the light of the lamp that the gleeman bore all the attributes of a living man.
”How came you here?”
”Because I know the secrets of the prison house--knew them before the Danes had murdered the once happy dwellers in this garden of England, which they have made a howling wilderness; hence I escaped the wrath of the furious parricide, whom the saints destroy, with ease, and laughed in security at their vain efforts to take me; but we must waste no time; it yet wants five hours to daybreak; within those five hours we must reach the opposite sh.o.r.e.”
”But tell me, I cannot understand, why hast thou braved the wrath of Sweyn? why hast thou cared for me?”
”All in good time, follow me now, I bid thee by the memory of Aescendune.”
”Aescendune! surely I dream.”
”Yes, of Aescendune. I have heard that thou art thence. Now waste no more time.”
More and more mystified, for he had never to his knowledge seen the speaker before, Alfgar gazed at the gleeman.
He appeared of n.o.ble air and mien, but was evidently but a young man; he was somewhat above the average height, and looked as though he could wield the sword as well as the harp. But how were they to escape?
Alfgar was not left long in doubt. The stranger took up the lamp and walked to the farthest recess of the dungeon, where, concealed amongst the rude carvings with which the builders had ornamented the wall, was a rose carved in stone. The gleeman pressed it sharply, and a hidden door sprang open, revealing a winding staircase excavated in the solid wall.
”Upwards it leads to the banqueting hall, and you can comprehend my escape this evening,” said he; ”but our path is now downwards, unless you would like to go up and see the drunken beasts of murderers snoring off their debauch upon the floor as they fell; oh, that it were lawful for a Christian man to cut their throats as they lie; many innocent lives would be saved thereby, which those brutes will live to destroy.”
”Thou art, then, a Christian?”
The gleeman crossed himself piously.
”Why not?” said he.
”I heard you sing like a scald tonight.”