y Hilda's
lithsmen, gained the spot where Harold, bleeding fast, yet strove to keep
his footing, and, forgetful of his own wounds, was joyfully assuring
himself of Edith's safety. Vebba dismounted, and recognising the Earl,
exclaimed:

"Saints in heaven! are we in tine? You bleed--you faint!--Speak, Lord
Harold. How fares it?"

"Blood enow yet left here for our merrie England!" said Harold, with a
smile. But as he spoke, his head drooped, and he was borne senseless
into the house of Hilda.

CHAPTER II.

The Vala met them at the threshold, and testified so little surprise at
the sight of the bleeding and unconscious Earl, that Vebba, who had heard
strange tales of Hilda's unlawful arts, half-suspected that those
wild-looking foes, with their uncanny diminutive horses, were imps
conjured by her to punish a wooer to her grandchild--who had been perhaps
too successful in the wooing. And fears so reasonable were not a little
increased when Hilda, after leading the way up the steep ladder to the
chamber in which Harold had dreamed his fearful dream, bade them all
depart, and leave the wounded man to her care.

"Not so," said Vebba, bluffly. "A life like this is not to be left in
the hands of woman, or wicca. I shall go back to the great town, and
summon the Earl's own leach. And I beg thee to heed, meanwhile, that
every head in this house shall answer for Harold's."

The great Vala, and highborn Hleafdian, little accustomed to be accosted
thus, turned round abruptly, with so stern an eye and so imperious a
mien, that even the stout Kent man felt abashed. She pointed to the door
opening on the ladder, and said, briefly:

"Depart! Thy lord's life hath been saved already, and by woman. Depart!"

"Depart, and fear not for the Earl, brave and true friend in need," said
Edith, looking up from Harold's pale lips, over which she bent; and her
sweet voice so touched the good thegn, that, murmuring a blessing on her
fair face, he turned and departed.

Hilda then proceeded, with a light and skilful hand, to examine the
wounds of her patient. She opened the tunic, and washed away the blood
from four gaping orifices on the breast and shoulders. And as she did
so, Edith uttered a faint cry, and falling on her knees, bowed her head
over the drooping hand, and kissed it with stifling emotions, of which
perhaps grateful joy was the strongest; for over the heart of Harold was
punctured, after the fashion of the Sax