For the Lord of Ivarsdale had suddenly grown very stiff and grave; there was something curiously haughty in the quiet distinctness of his words.
“I have brought the boy home by reason of the King’s command that he be held in safety—and because it was my pleasure to succor him. And I have fetched him up here in order that you should supply his needs, being distressed for want of food and drink and healing salves. I am not pleased that you should meet my wishes in so light and cold a manner. I desire your love will, as is becoming, receive him kindly and charitably.”
He raised his hand as the pertest of the maids would have answered him, and there followed an uncomfortable pause. Then seven gowns swept the reed-strewn floor as seven courtesies fell, and Hildelitha thrust out her palm to give the pert maid a resounding box on the ear.
“You have heard your master, hussy! Why do you not exert yourself to bring food? Elswitha, if you do not want the mate to that, fetch the salve out of my chest.”
In an instant all was confusion; under cover of it the fat monk returned to his cup and the young master walked quietly to the door.
Homesick and heartsick, the waif in the page’s dress was left facing the unfriendly glances. Even in her bravest days, she had never known what it was to be disliked, and now—! Suddenly she limped after her friend and caught at his cloak.
“Let me go with you,” she cried. “I beseech it of you! I want not their service.”
After a moment, the Etheling threw his arm protectingly around the boyish figure.
“I do not blame you, poor youngling,” he said. “I was wrong to treat you as a child when you were bred up as a man. You shall have a bed in the closet off my chamber, and they shall not enter except as you will it. And you shall eat off my plate and drink from my cup. Come!”
Early should rise He who has few workers, And go his work to see to; Greatly is he retarded Who sleeps the morn away; Wealth half depends on energy. Hávamál.
It was August, when Mother Earth had nearly completed her task of providing for her children, and the excitement of a mighty work drawing to its close was in the air; when the sun-warmed stillness was a-quiver with the pulse of growing things coming to their strength, and every cloudless day held in its golden heart a song of exultation. The grassy space around the Tower, which was wont to be thronged with joyous idlers, was to-day almost deserted. A single groom lounged in the shade of the wide-spreading trees as he kept a lazy eye on the croppings of two saddled horses, and an endless chain of fagot-laden serfs plodded joylessly across the open. On one side of the great entrance arch a half-dozen of the manor poor gabbled and basked in the sun while they waited to receive their daily dole of food; on the other, a dark-locked foreign page sat on the mossy step abiding the coming of his master.