him, though all the witches inAlbion should withstand me."
"And I'll back you up," said the sub with a frown that spoke volumes--perhaps, considering the times, we should have written--rolls ofpapyrus.
Accordingly the two went towards the hut, with pluck and misgivingcontending for the mastery.
"Perchance the witch may have returned while we slept," said the sub ina low voice.
"Or she may have re-entered the hut invisibly--as she did at first,"replied the other.
The door was found to be on the latch. The lieutenant opened it alittle and peeped in.
"Ho! Cormac!" he shouted; "hi! ho! hooroo hooh!" but he shouted invain.
Becoming accustomed to the dim light, he perceived that there was no onewithin to answer to the call, so he suddenly sprang in, followed by thesub and a few of the more daring spirits among the men.
A hasty search revealed the fact that the lad was not to be seen. Amore minute and thorough inspection showed clearly that no one wasthere. They did not, of course, discover the cave, for the plank hadbeen removed, but they gazed solemnly into the depths of the dark chasmand wondered if poor Cormac had committed suicide there, or if the witchhad murdered him and thrown him in. Having neither rope nor ladder, andthe chasm appearing to be bottomless, they had no means of settling thequestion.
But now a point of far greater moment pressed on their consideration.What was to be said to King Hudibras about the disappearance of the lad?Would he believe them? It was not likely. And, on the other hand,what would Gadarn say? Would _he_ believe them? He might, indeed, forhe knew them to be faithful, but that would not mitigate his wrath, andwhen he was roused by neglected duty they knew too well that their liveswould hang on a thread. What was to be done? To go forward or backwardseemed to involve death! One only resource was left, namely, for thewhole band to go off on its own account and take to the woods asindependent robbers--or hunters--or both combined.
In an unenviable frame of mind the lieutenant and his sub sat down tothe discussion of these knotty points and their mid-day meal.
Meanwhile the witch, who had been the occasion of all this distress,having got out of sight in the woods, assumed a very upright gait andstepped out with a degree of bounding elasticity that would have donecredit to a girl of nineteen.
The sun was just rising in a flood of glorious light when she enteredthe suburbs of King Hudibras' town--having previously resumed her stoopand hobbling gait.
The king was lazy. He was still a-bed snoring. But the household wasup and at breakfast, when the witch--passing the guards who looked uponher as too contemptible to question--knocked at the palace door. It wasthe back-door, for even at that time palaces had such convenientapertures, for purposes, no doubt, of undignified retreat. A menialanswered the knock--after wearisome delay.
"Is the Princess Hafrydda within?"
"She is," answered the menial, with a supercilious look, "but she is atbreakfast, and does not see poor people at such an hour."
"Would she see rich people if they were to call at such an hour?"demanded the witch, sharply.
"Per--perhaps she would," replied the menial with some hesitation.
"Then I'll wait here till she has finished breakfast. Is the king up?"
"N-no. He still slumbers."
"Hah! Like him! He was always lazy in the mornings. Go fetch me astool."
The manner of the old woman with her magnificent dark eyes and deepmetallic voice, and her evident knowledge of the king's habits, were toomuch for the menial--a chord of superstition had been touched; itvibrated, and he was quelled. Humbly but quickly he fetched a stool.
"Won't you step in?" he said.
"No, I'll stop out!" she replied, and sat herself doggedly down, withthe air of one who had resolved never more to go away.
Meanwhile, in the breakfast room of the palace, which was on the groundfloor--indeed, all the rooms of the palace were on the ground floor, forthere was no upper one--the queen and her fair daughter Hafrydda wereentertaining a stranger who had arrived the day before.
He was an exceedingly handsome man of about six-and-twenty; moderatelytall and strong, but with an air of graceful activity in all hismovements that gave people, somehow, the belief that whatever he choseto attempt he could do. Both his olive complexion and his tonguebetokened him a foreigner, for although the language he spoke wasAlbionic, it was what we now style broken--very much broken indeed.With a small head, short curly black hair, a very young beard, and smallpointed moustache, fine intellectual features, and an expression ofimperturbable good-humour, he presented an appearance which might haveclaimed the regard of any woman. At all events the queen had formed avery high opinion of him--and she was a woman of much experience, havingseen many men in her day. Hafrydda, though, of course, not soexperienced, fully equalled her mother, if she did not excel her, in herestimate of the young stranger.
As we should be unintelligible if we gave the youth's words in thebroken dialect, we must render his speech in fair English.
"I cannot tell how deeply I am grieved to hear this dreadful news of mydear friend," he said, with a look of profound sorrow that went home tothe mother's heart.
"And did you really come to this land for the sole purpose of seeing mydear boy?" asked the queen.
"I did. You cannot imagine how much we loved each other. We werethrown together daily--almost hourly. We studied together; we competedwhen I was preparing for the Olympic games; we travelled in Egypt andhunted together. Indeed, if it had not been for my dear old mother, weshould have travelled to this land in the same ship."
"Your mother did not wish you to leave her, I suppose?"
"Nay, it was I who would not leave _her_. Her unselfish nature wouldhave induced her to make any sacrifice to please me. It was only whenshe died that my heart turned with unusual longing to my old companionBladud, and I made up my mind to quit home and traverse the great sea insearch of him."
A grateful look shot from Hafrydda's blue eyes, but it was lost on theyouth, who sat gazing at the floor as if engrossed with his greatdisappointment.
"I cannot understand," he continued, in an almost reproachful tone, "howyou could ever make up your minds to banish him, no matter how deadlythe disease that had smitten him."
The princess's fair face flushed deeply, and she shook back her goldencurls--her eyes flashing as she replied--
"We did not `make up our minds to banish him.' The warriors and peoplewould have compelled us to do it whether we liked or not, for they haveheard, alas! of the terrible nature of the disease. But the dear boy,knowing this, went off in the night unknown to us, and without evensaying farewell. We have sent out parties to search for him severaltimes, but without success."
The youth was evidently affected by this burst of feeling.
"Ah," he returned, with a look of admiration at the princess, "that waslike him--like his noble, self-denying nature. But I will find him out,you may depend on it, for I shall search the land in all directions tillI discover his retreat. If King Hudibras will grant me a few men tohelp me--well. If not, I will do it by myself."
"Thank you, good Dromas, for your purpose and your sympathy," said thequeen. "The king will be only too glad to help you--but here he comesto speak for himself."
The curtain door was tossed aside at the moment, and Hudibras strodeinto the room with a beaming smile and a rolling gait that told ofredundant health, and showed that the cares of state sat lightly on him.
"Welcome, good Dromas, to our board. I was too sleepy to see much ofyou after your arrival last night. Mine eyes blinked like those of anowl. Kiss me, wife and daughter," he added, giving the ladies a salutethat resounded through the room. "Have they told you yet about our poorson Bladud?"
The visitor had not time to reply, when a domestic appeared and saidthere was an old woman at the door who would not go away.
"Give her some cakes and send her off!" cried the king with a frown.
"But she will
not go till she has had converse with the princess."
"I will go to her," said Hafrydda, rising.
"Ay, go, my girl, and if thy sweet tongue fails to prevail, stuff hermouth with meat and drink till she is too stout to walk. Come, myqueen, what have we this morning for breakfast? The very talking ofmeat makes me hungry."
At this juncture several dogs burst into the room and gambolled withtheir royal master, as with one who is a familiar friend.
When the princess reached the outer door she found the woman standing,and evidently in a rage.
"Is this the way King Hudibras teaches his varlets to behave to poorpeople who are better than themselves?"
"Forgive them, granny," said the princess, who was inclined to laugh,but strove to keep her gravity, "they are but