<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"></SPAN></p>
<h2> CHAPTER XVIII </h2>
<p>Away! our journey lies through dell and dingle,<br/>
Where the blithe fawn trips by its timid mother,<br/>
Where the broad oak, with intercepting boughs,<br/>
Chequers the sunbeam in the green-sward alley—<br/>
Up and away!—for lovely paths are these<br/>
To tread, when the glad Sun is on his throne<br/>
Less pleasant, and less safe, when Cynthia's lamp<br/>
With doubtful glimmer lights the dreary forest.<br/>
—Ettrick Forest<br/></p>
<p>When Cedric the Saxon saw his son drop down senseless in the lists at
Ashby, his first impulse was to order him into the custody and care of his
own attendants, but the words choked in his throat. He could not bring
himself to acknowledge, in presence of such an assembly, the son whom he
had renounced and disinherited. He ordered, however, Oswald to keep an eye
upon him; and directed that officer, with two of his serfs, to convey
Ivanhoe to Ashby as soon as the crowd had dispersed. Oswald, however, was
anticipated in this good office. The crowd dispersed, indeed, but the
knight was nowhere to be seen.</p>
<p>It was in vain that Cedric's cupbearer looked around for his young master—he
saw the bloody spot on which he had lately sunk down, but himself he saw
no longer; it seemed as if the fairies had conveyed him from the spot.
Perhaps Oswald (for the Saxons were very superstitious) might have adopted
some such hypothesis, to account for Ivanhoe's disappearance, had he not
suddenly cast his eye upon a person attired like a squire, in whom he
recognised the features of his fellow-servant Gurth. Anxious concerning
his master's fate, and in despair at his sudden disappearance, the
translated swineherd was searching for him everywhere, and had neglected,
in doing so, the concealment on which his own safety depended. Oswald
deemed it his duty to secure Gurth, as a fugitive of whose fate his master
was to judge.</p>
<p>Renewing his enquiries concerning the fate of Ivanhoe, the only
information which the cupbearer could collect from the bystanders was,
that the knight had been raised with care by certain well-attired grooms,
and placed in a litter belonging to a lady among the spectators, which had
immediately transported him out of the press. Oswald, on receiving this
intelligence, resolved to return to his master for farther instructions,
carrying along with him Gurth, whom he considered in some sort as a
deserter from the service of Cedric.</p>
<p>The Saxon had been under very intense and agonizing apprehensions
concerning his son; for Nature had asserted her rights, in spite of the
patriotic stoicism which laboured to disown her. But no sooner was he
informed that Ivanhoe was in careful, and probably in friendly hands, than
the paternal anxiety which had been excited by the dubiety of his fate,
gave way anew to the feeling of injured pride and resentment, at what he
termed Wilfred's filial disobedience.</p>
<p>"Let him wander his way," said he—"let those leech his wounds for
whose sake he encountered them. He is fitter to do the juggling tricks of
the Norman chivalry than to maintain the fame and honour of his English
ancestry with the glaive and brown-bill, the good old weapons of his
country."</p>
<p>"If to maintain the honour of ancestry," said Rowena, who was present, "it
is sufficient to be wise in council and brave in execution—to be
boldest among the bold, and gentlest among the gentle, I know no voice,
save his father's—-"</p>
<p>"Be silent, Lady Rowena!—on this subject only I hear you not.
Prepare yourself for the Prince's festival: we have been summoned thither
with unwonted circumstance of honour and of courtesy, such as the haughty
Normans have rarely used to our race since the fatal day of Hastings.
Thither will I go, were it only to show these proud Normans how little the
fate of a son, who could defeat their bravest, can affect a Saxon."</p>
<p>"Thither," said Rowena, "do I NOT go; and I pray you to beware, lest what
you mean for courage and constancy, shall be accounted hardness of heart."</p>
<p>"Remain at home, then, ungrateful lady," answered Cedric; "thine is the
hard heart, which can sacrifice the weal of an oppressed people to an idle
and unauthorized attachment. I seek the noble Athelstane, and with him
attend the banquet of John of Anjou."</p>
<p>He went accordingly to the banquet, of which we have already mentioned the
principal events. Immediately upon retiring from the castle, the Saxon
thanes, with their attendants, took horse; and it was during the bustle
which attended their doing so, that Cedric, for the first time, cast his
eyes upon the deserter Gurth. The noble Saxon had returned from the
banquet, as we have seen, in no very placid humour, and wanted but a
pretext for wreaking his anger upon some one.</p>
<p>"The gyves!" he said, "the gyves!—Oswald—Hundibert!—Dogs
and villains!—why leave ye the knave unfettered?"</p>
<p>Without daring to remonstrate, the companions of Gurth bound him with a
halter, as the readiest cord which occurred. He submitted to the operation
without remonstrance, except that, darting a reproachful look at his
master, he said, "This comes of loving your flesh and blood better than
mine own."</p>
<p>"To horse, and forward!" said Cedric.</p>
<p>"It is indeed full time," said the noble Athelstane; "for, if we ride not
the faster, the worthy Abbot Waltheoff's preparations for a rere-supper <SPAN href="#linknote-25" name="linknoteref-25" id="linknoteref-25"><small>25</small></SPAN>
will be altogether spoiled."</p>
<p>The travellers, however, used such speed as to reach the convent of St
Withold's before the apprehended evil took place. The Abbot, himself of
ancient Saxon descent, received the noble Saxons with the profuse and
exuberant hospitality of their nation, wherein they indulged to a late, or
rather an early hour; nor did they take leave of their reverend host the
next morning until they had shared with him a sumptuous refection.</p>
<p>As the cavalcade left the court of the monastery, an incident happened
somewhat alarming to the Saxons, who, of all people of Europe, were most
addicted to a superstitious observance of omens, and to whose opinions can
be traced most of those notions upon such subjects, still to be found
among our popular antiquities. For the Normans being a mixed race, and
better informed according to the information of the times, had lost most
of the superstitious prejudices which their ancestors had brought from
Scandinavia, and piqued themselves upon thinking freely on such topics.</p>
<p>In the present instance, the apprehension of impending evil was inspired
by no less respectable a prophet than a large lean black dog, which,
sitting upright, howled most piteously as the foremost riders left the
gate, and presently afterwards, barking wildly, and jumping to and fro,
seemed bent upon attaching itself to the party.</p>
<p>"I like not that music, father Cedric," said Athelstane; for by this title
of respect he was accustomed to address him.</p>
<p>"Nor I either, uncle," said Wamba; "I greatly fear we shall have to pay
the piper."</p>
<p>"In my mind," said Athelstane, upon whose memory the Abbot's good ale (for
Burton was already famous for that genial liquor) had made a favourable
impression,—"in my mind we had better turn back, and abide with the
Abbot until the afternoon. It is unlucky to travel where your path is
crossed by a monk, a hare, or a howling dog, until you have eaten your
next meal."</p>
<p>"Away!" said Cedric, impatiently; "the day is already too short for our
journey. For the dog, I know it to be the cur of the runaway slave Gurth,
a useless fugitive like its master."</p>
<p>So saying, and rising at the same time in his stirrups, impatient at the
interruption of his journey, he launched his javelin at poor Fangs—for
Fangs it was, who, having traced his master thus far upon his stolen
expedition, had here lost him, and was now, in his uncouth way, rejoicing
at his reappearance. The javelin inflicted a wound upon the animal's
shoulder, and narrowly missed pinning him to the earth; and Fangs fled
howling from the presence of the enraged thane. Gurth's heart swelled
within him; for he felt this meditated slaughter of his faithful adherent
in a degree much deeper than the harsh treatment he had himself received.
Having in vain attempted to raise his hand to his eyes, he said to Wamba,
who, seeing his master's ill humour had prudently retreated to the rear,
"I pray thee, do me the kindness to wipe my eyes with the skirt of thy
mantle; the dust offends me, and these bonds will not let me help myself
one way or another."</p>
<p>Wamba did him the service he required, and they rode side by side for some
time, during which Gurth maintained a moody silence. At length he could
repress his feelings no longer.</p>
<p>"Friend Wamba," said he, "of all those who are fools enough to serve
Cedric, thou alone hast dexterity enough to make thy folly acceptable to
him. Go to him, therefore, and tell him that neither for love nor fear
will Gurth serve him longer. He may strike the head from me—he may
scourge me—he may load me with irons—but henceforth he shall
never compel me either to love or to obey him. Go to him, then, and tell
him that Gurth the son of Beowulph renounces his service."</p>
<p>"Assuredly," said Wamba, "fool as I am, I shall not do your fool's errand.
Cedric hath another javelin stuck into his girdle, and thou knowest he
does not always miss his mark."</p>
<p>"I care not," replied Gurth, "how soon he makes a mark of me. Yesterday he
left Wilfred, my young master, in his blood. To-day he has striven to kill
before my face the only other living creature that ever showed me
kindness. By St Edmund, St Dunstan, St Withold, St Edward the Confessor,
and every other Saxon saint in the calendar," (for Cedric never swore by
any that was not of Saxon lineage, and all his household had the same
limited devotion,) "I will never forgive him!"</p>
<p>"To my thinking now," said the Jester, who was frequently wont to act as
peace-maker in the family, "our master did not propose to hurt Fangs, but
only to affright him. For, if you observed, he rose in his stirrups, as
thereby meaning to overcast the mark; and so he would have done, but Fangs
happening to bound up at the very moment, received a scratch, which I will
be bound to heal with a penny's breadth of tar."</p>
<p>"If I thought so," said Gurth—"if I could but think so—but no—I
saw the javelin was well aimed—I heard it whizz through the air with
all the wrathful malevolence of him who cast it, and it quivered after it
had pitched in the ground, as if with regret for having missed its mark.
By the hog dear to St Anthony, I renounce him!"</p>
<p>And the indignant swineherd resumed his sullen silence, which no efforts
of the Jester could again induce him to break.</p>
<p>Meanwhile Cedric and Athelstane, the leaders of the troop, conversed
together on the state of the land, on the dissensions of the royal family,
on the feuds and quarrels among the Norman nobles, and on the chance which
there was that the oppressed Saxons might be able to free themselves from
the yoke of the Normans, or at least to elevate themselves into national
consequence and independence, during the civil convulsions which were
likely to ensue. On this subject Cedric was all animation. The restoration
of the independence of his race was the idol of his heart, to which he had
willingly sacrificed domestic happiness and the interests of his own son.
But, in order to achieve this great revolution in favour of the native
English, it was necessary that they should be united among themselves, and
act under an acknowledged head. The necessity of choosing their chief from
the Saxon blood-royal was not only evident in itself, but had been made a
solemn condition by those whom Cedric had intrusted with his secret plans
and hopes. Athelstane had this quality at least; and though he had few
mental accomplishments or talents to recommend him as a leader, he had
still a goodly person, was no coward, had been accustomed to martial
exercises, and seemed willing to defer to the advice of counsellors more
wise than himself. Above all, he was known to be liberal and hospitable,
and believed to be good-natured. But whatever pretensions Athelstane had
to be considered as head of the Saxon confederacy, many of that nation
were disposed to prefer to the title of the Lady Rowena, who drew her
descent from Alfred, and whose father having been a chief renowned for
wisdom, courage, and generosity, his memory was highly honoured by his
oppressed countrymen.</p>
<p>It would have been no difficult thing for Cedric, had he been so disposed,
to have placed himself at the head of a third party, as formidable at
least as any of the others. To counterbalance their royal descent, he had
courage, activity, energy, and, above all, that devoted attachment to the
cause which had procured him the epithet of The Saxon, and his birth was
inferior to none, excepting only that of Athelstane and his ward. These
qualities, however, were unalloyed by the slightest shade of selfishness;
and, instead of dividing yet farther his weakened nation by forming a
faction of his own, it was a leading part of Cedric's plan to extinguish
that which already existed, by promoting a marriage betwixt Rowena and
Athelstane. An obstacle occurred to this his favourite project, in the
mutual attachment of his ward and his son and hence the original cause of
the banishment of Wilfred from the house of his father.</p>
<p>This stern measure Cedric had adopted, in hopes that, during Wilfred's
absence, Rowena might relinquish her preference, but in this hope he was
disappointed; a disappointment which might be attributed in part to the
mode in which his ward had been educated. Cedric, to whom the name of
Alfred was as that of a deity, had treated the sole remaining scion of
that great monarch with a degree of observance, such as, perhaps, was in
those days scarce paid to an acknowledged princess. Rowena's will had been
in almost all cases a law to his household; and Cedric himself, as if
determined that her sovereignty should be fully acknowledged within that
little circle at least, seemed to take a pride in acting as the first of
her subjects. Thus trained in the exercise not only of free will, but
despotic authority, Rowena was, by her previous education, disposed both
to resist and to resent any attempt to control her affections, or dispose
of her hand contrary to her inclinations, and to assert her independence
in a case in which even those females who have been trained up to
obedience and subjection, are not infrequently apt to dispute the
authority of guardians and parents. The opinions which she felt strongly,
she avowed boldly; and Cedric, who could not free himself from his
habitual deference to her opinions, felt totally at a loss how to enforce
his authority of guardian.</p>
<p>It was in vain that he attempted to dazzle her with the prospect of a
visionary throne. Rowena, who possessed strong sense, neither considered
his plan as practicable, nor as desirable, so far as she was concerned,
could it have been achieved. Without attempting to conceal her avowed
preference of Wilfred of Ivanhoe, she declared that, were that favoured
knight out of question, she would rather take refuge in a convent, than
share a throne with Athelstane, whom, having always despised, she now
began, on account of the trouble she received on his account, thoroughly
to detest.</p>
<p>Nevertheless, Cedric, whose opinions of women's constancy was far from
strong, persisted in using every means in his power to bring about the
proposed match, in which he conceived he was rendering an important
service to the Saxon cause. The sudden and romantic appearance of his son
in the lists at Ashby, he had justly regarded as almost a death's blow to
his hopes. His paternal affection, it is true, had for an instant gained
the victory over pride and patriotism; but both had returned in full
force, and under their joint operation, he was now bent upon making a
determined effort for the union of Athelstane and Rowena, together with
expediting those other measures which seemed necessary to forward the
restoration of Saxon independence.</p>
<p>On this last subject, he was now labouring with Athelstane, not without
having reason, every now and then, to lament, like Hotspur, that he should
have moved such a dish of skimmed milk to so honourable an action.
Athelstane, it is true, was vain enough, and loved to have his ears
tickled with tales of his high descent, and of his right by inheritance to
homage and sovereignty. But his petty vanity was sufficiently gratified by
receiving this homage at the hands of his immediate attendants, and of the
Saxons who approached him. If he had the courage to encounter danger, he
at least hated the trouble of going to seek it; and while he agreed in the
general principles laid down by Cedric concerning the claim of the Saxons
to independence, and was still more easily convinced of his own title to
reign over them when that independence should be attained, yet when the
means of asserting these rights came to be discussed, he was still
"Athelstane the Unready," slow, irresolute, procrastinating, and
unenterprising. The warm and impassioned exhortations of Cedric had as
little effect upon his impassive temper, as red-hot balls alighting in the
water, which produce a little sound and smoke, and are instantly
extinguished.</p>
<p>If, leaving this task, which might be compared to spurring a tired jade,
or to hammering upon cold iron, Cedric fell back to his ward Rowena, he
received little more satisfaction from conferring with her. For, as his
presence interrupted the discourse between the lady and her favourite
attendant upon the gallantry and fate of Wilfred, Elgitha failed not to
revenge both her mistress and herself, by recurring to the overthrow of
Athelstane in the lists, the most disagreeable subject which could greet
the ears of Cedric. To this sturdy Saxon, therefore, the day's journey was
fraught with all manner of displeasure and discomfort; so that he more
than once internally cursed the tournament, and him who had proclaimed it,
together with his own folly in ever thinking of going thither.</p>
<p>At noon, upon the motion of Athelstane, the travellers paused in a
woodland shade by a fountain, to repose their horses and partake of some
provisions, with which the hospitable Abbot had loaded a sumpter mule.
Their repast was a pretty long one; and these several interruptions
rendered it impossible for them to hope to reach Rotherwood without
travelling all night, a conviction which induced them to proceed on their
way at a more hasty pace than they had hitherto used.</p>
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