Read Ebook: Alfgar the Dane or the Second Chronicle of Aescendune A Tale of the Days of Edmund Ironside by Crake A D Augustine David

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Ebook has 2131 lines and 75558 words, and 43 pages

I may, perhaps, find a chance of speaking to him, and a few words may reach his heart. He knows my brother's family, and has once or twice joined them in expeditions in the woods, and even entered their gates. His must be a lonely life at home; there are no other children, but from time to time hoary warriors, upon whose souls lies, I fear, the guilt of much innocent blood, find a home there.

November 2d.--

This morning we said the office and mass for the dead, as usual on All Souls' Day. My brother Elfwyn and his children were, of course, present. That boy, Bertric, with all his boyish spirit and brightness, is very pious. It was a sight which I thought might gladden their guardian angels to see him and his sister kneeling with clasped hands at their uncle Elfric's tomb, and when service was over, they made me tell them the old old story about the first Elfric, the brother of my father, and how my father rescued him when the old castle was burnt .

When I had told them the story, I saw my brother was anxious to say a few words to me.

"Cuthbert," he said, "have you seen the young Dane, Alfgar, lately?"

"Not very long since," I replied; "he was at mass yesterday."

"Because I believe the lad longs to be a Christian, but does not dare speak to any one."

"He fears his stern father."

"Yes, Anlaf might slay him if he was to be baptized; yet baptized I am sure he will be, sooner or later."

"Does the boy love his father, I wonder?" said I, musingly.

"Doubtless; it would be unnatural did he not; but perhaps he loves the memory of his mother yet more. We both knew her, Cuthbert."

"Yes, when she was a bright-hearted merry village maiden. Poor Kyneswith!"

"For her sake, then, let us both try to do something for the boy."

"With all my heart. I will seek an opportunity of speaking to him, perhaps he may unburden his mind."

"Have you seen Edric the sheriff?" asked Elfwyn.

"Not lately. Has he been here?"

"He has, and there was something in connection with his visit which troubled me. He had been telling me for a long time about the cruelties and insolence of the Danes, when he added, in a marked manner, that they might go too far, for hundreds of their countrymen, like Anlaf here, were living unprotected amongst us."

"What could he mean?"

"I understood him to hint that we might revenge ourselves upon them, and replied that whatever their countrymen might be guilty of, our neighbours would, of course, always be safe amongst Christians."

"What did he reply?"

"He changed the subject."

Elfwyn said no more, but bade me goodbye and returned to the castle; still I saw that he was a little discomposed by the sheriff's words. I don't like that sheriff; he is a cruel and a crafty man; but I daresay his words were only the expression of a passing thought.

SUNDAY, November 6th.--

Today I noticed Alfgar, the son of Anlaf, at the high mass, and felt a little discomposed at the relaxation of discipline, which, contrary to the canons of the church, permits the unbaptized, as well as persons who ought rightly to be deemed excommunicate, or at least penitents, to be present at the holy mysteries.

But it is not this poor boy's fault that he is not a Christian, for I have seen him, and learned for a certainty the real state of his mind.

The way in which it came about was this. I marked that after service he entered the woods, as if he shunned the society of his fellow worshippers, and there I followed him, coming upon him at last, as if by accident, in a chestnut glade, the leaves of which strewed the ground--emblem of our fading mortality.

He started as he saw me, and at first looked as if he were inclined to fly my presence, but I gently addressed him.

"Dominus vobiscum, my son," I said. "I am pleased to see you sometimes at the minster church."

"I did not know I was noticed amongst so many," he replied.

"You mean, my boy, that you would sooner your presence were not observed. I can guess your reason too well."

He looked so sad, that I was sorry I had spoken precipitately, and a deep red blush suffused his dark countenance. He has a most attractive face--so thoughtful, yet so manly; his mother's gentle lineaments seem to have tempered the somewhat fierce and haughty bearing of his sire, as they meet in the countenance of their child.

My sympathy became so deep that I could not restrain myself and spoke out:

"My boy, will you not confide your troubles to me, for your dear mother's sake? Do you not remember how she commended you to my care? And never have I forgotten to pray daily that her God may be your God also."

At the mention of his mother the tears filled his eyes. We were sitting together on the trunk of a fallen tree, and he covered his face with his hands, but I could see that the tears forced their way between the fingers, and that he was sobbing violently. He is only as yet a mere boy, and such emotion is excusable.

At last he looked up.

"I long to be a Christian like her," he said; "over and over again she taught me, during her last days on earth, of the Christ she loved, and who, she said, was ever near her. I have heard all about the faith she loved, yet I am an outcast from it. What can I do?--my father will not let me be baptized, and I dare not oppose his will; yet I sometimes think I ought to chance all, and to die, if death should be the penalty."

"Die? You do not surely think he would slay you?"

"I know he would."

"In that case, my child, your duty seems plain: your Lord calls you to give Him your love, your obedience, and to seek refuge in the fold of His church."

"Ought I to leave my father?"

I felt very much puzzled indeed what to say. I could have no doubt as to the lad's duty; but then his father was his natural guardian, and in all things, save the plain duty of professing Christ, had a claim to his obedience.

"I think," I said at last, "my Alfgar, that when he knew you were determined to be a Christian he would oppose you no longer; that is, if you were once baptized he would tolerate a Christian son as he once did a Christian wife."

"He broke her heart."

"At all events I think that you should delay no longer, but should seek instruction and baptism, which we will afford you; and then, unless you really feel life is in danger, you should return to him and try to bear your lot; it may not be so hard as you think."

"I am not afraid of death; but he is my father, and from his hands it would be hard."

"He hates Christianity grievously then?"

"He says it is the religion of cowards and hypocrites; that it forms a plea for cowardice when men dare not be men, and is thrown aside fast enough when they have their foes in their power."

Alas! I could but feel how much reason the ill lives of Christians had given him to form this opinion, and of the curse pronounced upon those who shall put a stumbling block in their brother's way. The conversation of the Sheriff, Edric Streorn, rose up in my mind as an apt illustration of Anlaf's words.

"My boy," I said, "there is nothing perfect on earth. In the visible church the evil is mingled with the good. Yet the church is the fold of the Good Shepherd, and there is salvation therein for all who love and serve their Lord, and strive humbly to follow His example, and those of His blessed Saints."

"May I think over all you have said, and meet you next Sunday? You will be here, will you not?"

And he looked imploringly in my face. Poor boy! my heart bled for him.

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