“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.”
“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.”
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 someone.
“The gyves!” he said, “the gyves!—Oswald—Hundibert!—Dogs and villains!—why leave ye the knave unfettered?”
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.”
“To horse, and forward!” said Cedric.
“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 will be altogether spoiled.”
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