Part 15 (2/2)
Alftrude was smiling her slow, comfortable smile. Could she--the gleam in her eyes seemed one of admiration--could she have heard what had really befallen?
”I was like to weep when I saw it again,” said she.
They had reached the steepest slope of the hill. Richard the Scrob dismounted.
”I will carry the basket,” said he. ”And I will lead your horse heredown. Let yon lad take mine. Whither make ye?” he continued, when the boy had fallen behind with his new charge. ”Madame, I think ye should not fare abroad by such a slippery road and in such fickle weather.”
”I must to Ludford,” she answered. ”What think ye of this? There are seven young children at home, and in the house no spices nor dried grapes to make them Yuletide broth or Yuletide cake, and the housewife will not send any for these! Yet our bairns must have their Christmas fare like other bairns! so I am for Hildred the ale-wife, who has such sweet stuffs to sell.” But even as she enlarged upon her purpose, her cheeks blushed red.
”It is shameful!” said he, and his tone was full of warmth. ”I like not their dealings with you, these kinsmen of your former lord!”
”Good friend,” said Alftrude, ”how wilt thou do now? Thy cattle--thy money--the best of all thy gear! Great thy loss that evil market-day!
Indeed I am abashed by the folk with whom I dwell!”
”Why, I must stint and save, that is all. It will be no new thing--so have I done all the days of my life. When I first came over to join the train of Ralf the Earl, I had nothing but two silver pieces, my pen and inkhorn, and my wits. That was fifteen years ago.... They have been lonely years in England since Idonea died.”
”She was your wife?”
”Idonea was my wife. She was of Bayeux--daughter of Robert the deacon.
I had her but two years in this misty island. A short sickness bore her off.”
”Alack, alack! that is piteous!”
”She fretted ever for Normandy. I think it was as well she died.”
Alftrude eyed him gravely, reflectively. Suddenly she shook with silent laughter.
”Oh! oh!” she cried when she had recovered her voice, in answer to his manifest surprise, ”ye would have laughed, Son of Scrob, had ye seen a sight that mine eyes beheld three nights ago. Know that Ulwin will ever have the swine and the fowls to wander in and out of the house, as they were mankind, that they may eat up the sc.r.a.ps of food which he throweth by among the rushes. Upon that night, my husband's mother and I had gone aloft with the maidens, when a mad hubbub arose--Ulwin shouting, threatening, praying--with such grunts and shrieks besides, ye would have thought the Fiend himself was there. We hurried down, and there stood my good brother, smiting upon his bed with a flail as strongly as his quaking hand would let him--and the fattest pig tangled in the covering of fat Ulwin's bed!”
”Oh, gladsome sight!” exclaimed Richard. ”Ye did work havoc upon that same Ulwin that day at the fair? Indeed I think I owe my life to a lady's finger-nails!”
”Ye had avenged his roughness with me,” she answered. ”And I saw him rise to fall upon you.”
By this time they had emerged upon the highroad; and now there pa.s.sed them two nuns riding sleek mules, and two serving-men, mounted also.
”There goes Burghild of Caynham,” said Alftrude. ”It is now five years since she took her holy oaths. I would not be she for all the world--though, heaven wot! a nun's life is a peaceful life!”
”There is peace to be found where no nuns are, lady.”
”Know ye her story, Richard Scrob's son? She is the thane of Caynham's daughter, and G.o.dric the brother of Athelstane of Berrington loved her dearly, and she him. But his lands were small and barren, and he could offer her no fitting home, or so he thought. He would take service with some great lord, and store what wealth the saints might send him, that he might make yon maiden his wife. They met twice or thrice in the year, and I am sure each read the other's mind; but he never told her of his love and of his hopes. And she pined for him, and grew pale, and tart of mood. G.o.dric went out with Earl Sweyn against the Welsh king, and was slain by the Welshmen. When Burghild heard these tidings, she fell sick of sorrow, even nigh unto death; but she is brave; she clung to life, and now she is the Church's bride. Oh, sad that lack of goods should sunder two true hearts!”
”How could he speak, being a man without wealth?” said Richard. ”He might not speak.” He would not look at her.
”He should have spoken,” said Alftrude softly.
”Now, as for these swine indeed, thy kinsmen----” cried he.... ”Pardon my rough speech, Lady Alftrude; but I have marked how they treat you--you who were their brother's wife--better born than they, and better nurtured. As the dirt underfoot! Must ye abide beneath their roof? Is there none other with whom ye might dwell?”
”My brother is a thane about the King's court. I have not set eyes on him for many a year. I have no other brother and no sister.”
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