Then again came the remembrance of that strange partiality, even amounting to fondness, which Brian had ever shown him, and he could but contrast the coldness and indifference of his own father with the fostering care of the awful Lord of Wallingford.
But blood is thicker than water: he could no longer serve the murderer of his kindred--Heaven itself would denounce such an alliance; yet he did not even now wish to wreak vengeance. He could not turn so suddenly: the old man's solution was the right one--he would fly the country and go to the Crusades.
But how to get out of England? it was no easy matter. The chances were twenty to one that he would either meet his death from some roving band or be forcibly compelled to join them.
He would seek his father, take sanctuary at Dorchester, and claim his aid. Even Brian could not drag him thence; and the monks of all men would and could assist him to join the Crusades.
Strong in this resolution, he returned to the cottage.
"Your grandfather is asleep; you must not disturb him, Osric, my dear boy."
"Very well, my old nurse, I will sleep too; my heart is very heavy."
He lay down on a pile of leaves and rushes in the outer room, and slept a troublous sleep. He had a strange dream, which afterwards became significant. He thought that old Judith came to him and said--
"Boy, go back to Wallingford; '_Brian_,' not 'Wulfnoth,' is the name of thy father."
The sands of old Sexwulf's life were running fast. The last rites of the Church were administered to him by the parish priest of Aston Upthorpe on the day following Osric's arrival. He made no further attempt to enter into the subject of the last interview with his grandson. From time to time he pressed the youth's hands, as if to show that he trusted him now, and that all the past was forgiven; from time to time he looked upon him with eyes in which revived affection beamed. He never seemed able to rest unless Osric was in the room.
Wearied out, Osric threw himself down upon his couch that night for brief repose, but in the still hours of early dawn Judith awoke him.
Osric threw on a garment and entered the chamber. His grandfather was almost gone; he collected his dying strength for a last blessing, murmured with dying lips, upon his beloved boy. Then while they knelt and said the commendatory prayer, he passed away to rejoin those whom he had loved and lost--the wife of his youth, the children of his early manhood--passing from scenes of violence and wrong to the land of peace and love, where all the mysteries of earth are solved.