Part 16 (1/2)

”That is well. It is a brave heart that will jest in such a case as yours, for you are ice from head to foot. Well, I had better hear your story, if you will tell it me, in the daylight. Now get those wet garments off you and put on this. I will get you food, and you shall sleep.”

This was surely the last place where my foes would think of looking for me, and the snow would hide every trace of my path. So I made no delay, but took off my byrnie and garments. There was a pool on the floor where I stood, for it was true enough that I had been ice covered. Then I put on a rough warm brown frock with a cord round the waist, so that I looked like a lay brother at Glas...o...b..ry, and all the while I waxed more and more sleepy with the comfort of the place. But I wiped my arms carefully while the old priest was busy with a cauldron over the fire, and we were ready at the same time.

Then I had a meal of some sort of stew that seemed the best I ever tasted, and a long draught of good mead, while the host looked on in grave content. And then he spread a heap of dry seaweed in a corner near the fire, and blessed me and bid me sleep. Nor did I need a second bidding, and I do not think that I can have stirred from the time that I lay down to the moment when I woke with a feeling on me that it was late in the daylight.

So it was, and I looked round for my kind host, but he was not to be seen. Outside the wind was still strong, but not what it had been, for the gale was sinking suddenly as it rose, and into the one little window the sun shone brightly enough now and then as the clouds fled across it. There was a bright fire on the hearth, and over it hung a cauldron, whence steam rose merrily, and it was plain that my friend of last night was not far off, so I lay still and waited his return.

Then my eyes fell on my clothes and arms as they hung from pegs in the walls over against me, and it seemed as if the steel of mail and helm and sword had been newly burnished. Then I saw also that a rent in my tunic, made when my horse fell, had been carefully mended, and that no speck of the dust and mire I had gathered on my garments from collar to hose was left. All had been tended as carefully as if I had been at home, and I saw Elfrida's little brooch s.h.i.+ning where I had pinned it.

That took me back to Glas...o...b..ry in a moment, but I had to count before I could be sure that it was but a matter of hours since I took that gift in the orchard, rather than of months. And I wondered if Owen knew yet that I was lost, or if my men sought me still. Then my mind went to Evan, the chapman outlaw, and I thought that by this time he would have given me up, and would be far away by now, beyond the reach of Thorgils and his wrath.

Now the seaward door opened, and a swirl of spray from the breakers on the rocks came in with my host, who set a great armful of drift wood on the floor, closed it, and so turned to me.

”Good morrow, my son,” he said. ”How fare you after rest?”

”Well as can be, father,” I answered, sitting up. ”Stiff I am, and maybe somewhat black and blue, but that is all. I have no hurt. But surely I have slept long?”

”A matter of ten hours, my son, and that without stirring. You needed it sorely, so I let you be. Now it is time for food, but first you shall have a bath, and that will do wonders with the soreness.”

Thankful enough was I of the great tub of hot water he had ready for me, and after it and a good meal I was a new man. My host said nought till I had finished, and then it was I who broke the silence between us.

”Father,” I said, ”I have much to thank you for. What may I call you?”

”They name me Govan the Hermit, my son.”

”I do not know how to say all I would, Father Govan,” I went on, ”but I was in a sore strait last night, and but for your bell I think I must have perished in the snow, or in some of the clefts of these cliffs.”

”I rang the bell for you, my son, though I knew not why. It came on me that one was listening for some sign of help in the storm.”

”How could you know?” I asked in wonder.

Govan shook his head.

”I cannot tell. Men who bide alone as I bide have strange bodings in their solitude. I have known the like come over me before, and it has ever been a true warning.”

Now it was my turn to be silent, for all this was beyond me. I had heard of hermits before, but had never seen one. If all were like this old man, too much has not been said of their holiness and nearness to unseen things.

So for a little while we sat and looked into the fire, each on a three-legged stool, opposite one another. Then at last he asked, almost shyly, and as if he deemed himself overbold, how it was that I had come to be on the cliffs. That meant in the end that he heard all my story, of course, but my Welsh halted somewhat for want of use, and it was troublesome to tell it. However, he heard me with something more than patience, and when I ended he said:

”Now I know how it is that a Saxon speaks the tongue of Cornwall here in Dyfed. You have had a n.o.ble fostering, Thane, for even here we lamented for the loss of Owen the prince. We have seen him in Pembroke in past years. You will be most welcome there with this news, for Howel, our prince, loved him well. They are akin, moreover. It will be well that you should go to him for help.”

He rose up and went to the seaward door again, and I followed him out. The sea was but just below us, for the tide was full, and the breakers were yet thundering at the foot of the cliffs on either hand. But I did not note that at first, for the thing which held my eyes at once was a s.h.i.+p which was wallowing and plunging past us eastward, under close reefed sail, and I knew her for the vessel in which I had crossed. Thorgils had left the cove, and was making for Tenby while he might. I should have to seek him there.

”How far is it to the Danes' town, Father Govan?” I asked. ”Yonder goes my friend's s.h.i.+p.”

”Half a day's ride, my son, and with peril for you all the way. Our poor folk would take you for a Dane in those arms, and you have no horse. Needs must that you seek Howel, and he will give you a guard willingly.”

Then he turned toward a great rock that lay on the beach, as if it had fallen from the cliffs that towered above us.

”Here is the bell that you heard last night,” he said.