ery
different from his solemn tones of a moment before; "better look before
you leap in the dark."

"By my faith!" cried Cedric; "I should know that voice."

"It is that of your trusty slave and jester," answered the priest,
throwing back his cowl and revealing the face of Wamba. "Take a fool's
advice, and you will not be here long."

"How meanest thou, knave?" demanded the Saxon.

"Even thus," replied Wamba; "take thou this frock and cord and march
quietly out of the castle, leaving me your cloak and girdle to take the
long leap in thy stead."

"Leave thee in my stead!" exclaimed Cedric, astonished at the proposal;
"why, they would hang thee, my poor knave."

"E'en let them do as they are permitted," answered Wamba. "I trust--no
disparagement to your birth--that the son of Witless may hang in a chain
with as much gravity as the chain hung upon his ancestor the
[v]alderman."

"Well, Wamba," said Cedric, "for one thing will I grant thy request. And
that is, if thou wilt make the exchange of garments with Lord Athelstane
instead of me."

"No," answered Wamba; "there were little reason in that. Good right
there is that the son of Witless should suffer to save the son of
Hereward; but little wisdom there were in his dying for the benefit of
one whose fathers were strangers to his."

"Villain," cried Cedric, "the fathers of Athelstane were monarchs of
England!"

"They might be whomsoever they pleased," replied Wamba; "but my neck
stands too straight on my shoulders to have it twisted for their sake.
Wherefore, good my master, either take my proffer yourself, or suffer me
to leave this dungeon as free as I entered."

"Let the old tree wither," persisted Cedric, "so the stately hope of the
forest be preserved. Save the noble Athelstane, my trusty Wamba! It is
the duty of each who has Saxon blood in his veins. Thou and I will abide
together the utmost rage of our oppressors, while he, free and safe,
shall arouse the awakened spirits of our countrymen to avenge us."

"Not so, father Cedric," said Athelstane, grasping his hand--for, when
roused to think or act, his deeds and sentiments were not unbecoming his
high race--"not so. I would rather remain in this hall a week without
food save the prisoner's stinted loaf, or drink save the prisoner's
measure of water, than embrace the opportunity to escape which the
slave's untaught kindness has [v]purveyed for his master. Go, noble
Cedric. Your presence without may enc