wait there till she
hears from me--unless some lady will take pity on her and give her
shelter."
"She will be more likely to take the vows, as have so many maidens
of today who are in her case," I said. "I will do all for the nuns
and her that I can."
The three sisters came out now. Two were weeping, and they were the
nuns. The third was flushed and looked troubled, and she cast a
glance back into the dark cabin. I heard the queen's voice speaking
fast to her, as it would seem, and she shrank away as if dreading
it.
Elfric went to meet them, and then the queen herself came through
the cabin door stooping, for it was not high.
"This is your doing," she said to the abbot. "Am I to be left
without any attendants?"
"My queen," the good man said, "we can take the sisters no further
with us. They must go ashore."
The queen looked at the coast, which was plain enough now. It was
certain that she had no knowledge that we were returning to
England. That the ship was on another tack meant nothing to her.
"Why cannot they bide here and go on land with me? We cannot be
more than an hour in reaching the harbour," and she pointed to
Selsea.
"Tell her, father, I pray you," said the maiden in a low voice.
"She believes that we are even now nearing her home."
Then I thought that this might come more easily from myself, seeing
that Elfric had to stay with her, and I stood before her, and
spoke.
"My Queen, that is not the Norman shore which you see. The Danes,
into whose hands we have fallen, are taking us back to England."
As I said this, the queen's face grew white with rage, and she
looked from Elfric to me, speechless. On the deck above stood Egil,
and he caught my eye, and looked ruefully at us.
"What!" she said, "has Cnut bought you also? Is there no man whom I
can trust?"
That was the most cruel thing that she could have said, but I knew
what despair might lie behind her anger, and I answered
nothing--nor did Elfric. We waited for the storm to pass.
"Ill it was that Ethelred trusted me to your hands--" she began
again.
But there was one who would not bear this. The friendless maiden
spoke plainly for us.
"Queen," she said, "I have borne your reproaches to myself in
silence, but I cannot bear that these brave servants of yours
should be blamed. Look at the abbot's torn and dusty robes, look at
the thane's care-worn face--are they in the plight of men who are
bribed?"
But the queen made no
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