aside with his strong arm, he again
confronted the assailants.

"Die!" cried, in the Cymrian tongue, the fiercest of the foes, whose
sword had already twice drawn the Earl's blood; "Die, that Cymry may be
free!"

Meredydd sprang, with him sprang the survivors of his band; and, by a
sudden movement, Edith had thrown herself on Harold's breast, leaving his
right arm free, but sheltering his form with her own.

At that sight every sword rested still in air. These Cymrians,
hesitating not at the murder of the man whose death seemed to their false
virtue a sacrifice due to their hopes of freedom, were still the
descendants of Heroes, and the children of noble Song, and their swords
were harmless against a woman. The same pause which saved the life of
Harold, saved that of Meredydd; for the Cymrian's lifted sword had left
his breast defenceless, and Harold, despite his wrath, and his fears for
Edith, touched by that sudden forbearance, forbore himself the blow.

"Why seek ye my life?" said he. "Whom in broad England hath Harold
wronged?"

That speech broke the charm, revived the suspense of vengeance. With a
sudden aim, Meredydd smote at the head which Edith's embrace left
unprotected. The sword shivered on the steel of that which parried the
stroke, and the next moment, pierced to the heart, Meredydd fell to the
earth, bathed in his gore. Even as he fell, aid was at hand. The ceorls
in the Roman house had caught the alarm, and were hurrying down the
knoll, with arms snatched in haste, while a loud whoop broke from the
forest land hard by; and a troop of horse, headed by Vebba, rushed
through the bushes and brakes. Those of the Welch still surviving, no
longer animated by their fiery chief, turned on the instant, and fled
with that wonderful speed of foot which characterised their active race;
calling, as they fled, to their Welch pigmy steeds, which, snorting loud,
and lashing out, came at once to the call. Seizing the nearest at hand,
the fugitives sprang to selle, while the animals unchosen paused by the
corpses of their former riders, neighing piteously, and shaking their
long manes. And then, after wheeling round and round the coming
horsemen, with many a plunge, and lash, and savage cry, they darted after
their companions, and disappeared amongst the bushwood. Some of the
Kentish men gave chase to the fugitives, but in vain; for the nature of
the ground favoured flight. Vebba, and the rest, now joined b