Littell's Living Age

The knight laughed derisively, and was about to leave the apartment; but Ulrika stood in his way. With one arm she held the little one close to her breast-the other she raised with imperious gesture, that formed a strange contrast to her shrunken, diminutive figure. The knight, strong and stalwart as he was, might have crushed her like a worm on his pathway, and yet he seemed to quail before the indomitable and almost supernatural resolve that shone in her eyes.

"Ulrika, I have spoken-take away the child, and let me go," he said; and his tones sounded more like entreaty than command.

But the woman still confronted him with her wild, imperious eyes, beneath which his own sank in confusion. She-that frail creature, who seemed to need but a breath from death's icy lips to plunge her into the already open tomb-she ruled him as mind rules matter, as the soul commands the body. Loys of Aveyran, the bravest of Charlemagne's knights, was like a child before her.

the baby-hand that peeped out of the purple mantle prepared for the heir. He examined it long and eagerly—

"One may see the flowers form in the bud, and I might, perhaps, trace the lines even now," he said. Ah! there it is-even as I read in the stars-a noble nature-a life destined for some great end. Yet these crosses-oh! fate, strange and solemn, but not sad. And some aspects of her birth are the same as in mine own. It is marvellous!"

Ulrika drew away the child, and sighed.

"Ah! my son-my noble Ansgarius-wilt thou still go on with thy unearthly lore? It is not meet for one to whom holy church has long opened her bosom; and said, come, my child-my only oneI would fain see thee less learned, and more pious. What art thou now muttering over this babesome of thy secrets about the stars? All-all are vanity!"

Mother," said Ansgarius, sternly, "thou be"What wouldst thou, Ulrika ?" he said at lievest in thy dreams and revelations from Heaven - last.

She pointed to the babe, and, obeying her imperative gesture, the father stooped down, and signed its forehead with the sign of the cross. At the touch of the mailed fingers, the little one lifted up its voice in a half-subdued cry.

-I in my science. Let neither judge the other harshly, for the world outside thus judges both."

And he went on with his earnest examination of the child's palm, occasionally moving to the turret window to look out on the sky, now all glittering with stars, and then again consulting the tablets that he always carried in his girdle.

"Ave Mary!" said the knight, in disgust; "it is a puny, wailing imp. If Heaven has, indeed, Ulrika watched him with a steady and mournful sent it, Heaven may take it back again-for there gaze, which softened into the light of mother-love are daughters enough in the house of Aveyran. | her dark, gleaming, almost fierce eyes. She sat, This one shall be a nun- 't is fit for nothing else." or rather crouched, at the foot of the Virgin's "Shame on thee, sacrilegious man!" cried Ul-niche, with the babe asleep on her knees. Her rika, indignantly. lean, yellow fingers ran over the beads of her rosary, and her lips moved silently. "Mother," said Ansgarius, suddenly, art thou doing there?"

But the knight left her more swiftly than ever he had fled from a foe. The aged nurse threw herself on her knees before a rude image of the Virgin, at whose feet she laid the child

For my

"what

Praying for thee, my son," she answered"praying that these devices lead thee not astray, and that thou mayest find at last the true wis

dom."

"Oh! holy Mother," she prayed, "let not the dreams and visions of the night be unfulfilled. I believe them-I only of all this house. faith's sake, give to this innocent that glorious "I want it not-I believe but what I know, destiny which, with prophetic eye, I saw. The and have proved. It was thy will which clad me world casteth her out-take her, O Mother, into in this priest's garment. I opposed it not, but I thy sacred arms, and make her pure, and meek, will seek God in my own way. I will climb to and holy, like thyself. I go the way of all the His heaven by the might of knowledge-that alone earth; but thou, O Blessed One, into thy arms I will make me like unto Him." give this maid."

When Ulrika rose up, she saw that her petition had not been offered in solitude.

Ulrika turned away from her son. "And it was to this man-this proud, selfAnother person glorifier-that I would fain have confided the pure had entered the turret chamber. It was a young young soul this night sent upon the earth! Noman-the counterpart of herself in the small, spare son of my bosom-my life's care-may the Merciform, yellow face, and wild, dark eyes. He wore ful One be long-suffering with thee until the change a dress half lay, half clerical, and his whole ap- in thy spirit come. And this worse than orphan pearance was that of one immersed in deep studies, babe, O Mother of consolation, I lay at thy feet, and almost oblivious of the ordinary affairs of life. with the last orison of a life spent in prayers. For "Mother, is that the child ?" he said, abruptly.this new human soul, accept the offering of that "Well, son, and hast thou also come to cast which now comes to thee." shame on this poor unwelcome one, like the man who has just gone from hence?—I blush to say, thy foster-brother and thy lord," was the stern answer of Ulrika.

Ulrika's latter words were faint and indistinct, and her head leaned heavily against the feet of the image. Her son, absorbed in his pursuits, neither saw nor heard. Suddenly she arose, stood upThe student knelt on one knee, and took gently right, and cried with a loud, clear, joyful voice—

"It will come, that glory-I see it now-the | golden cross she bears upon the hills of snow. There are foot-steps before her-they are thine, son of my hopes-child of my long-enduring faith! Ansgarius-my Ansgarius-thou art the blessed -the chosen one!"

Her voice failed suddenly, and she sank, on bended knees, at the feet of the Virgin. Ansgarius, startled, almost terrified, lifted up his head, so that the lamplight illumined her face. son looked on his dead mother.

CHAPTER II.

The

At this sudden proposition, Sir Loys looked aghast, and the Lady of Aveyran uttered a suppressed shriek; for the Vikings were universally regarded with terror, as barbarous heathens; and many were the legends of young maidens carried off by them with a short and rough wooing.

Hialmar glanced at the terror-stricken faces around, and his own grew dark with anger.

"Is there here any craven son of France who dares despise a union with the mighty line of Hialmar?" he cried, threateningly. "But the ship of the Viking rides on the near seas, and the seaeagle will make his talons strong, and his pinions

LET us pass over a few years, before we stand broad, yet." once more in the gray towers of Aveyran.

It was a feast, for Sir Loys was entertaining a strange guest—an old man, who came unattended and unaccompanied, save by a child and its nurse. He had claimed, rather than implored, hospitality; and though he came in such humble guise, there was a nobility in his bearing which impressed the knight with perfect faith in his truth, when the wanderer declared his rank to be equal with that of Sir Loys himself.

Sir Loys half-drew his sword, and then replaced it. He was too true a knight to show discourtesy to an aged and unarmed guest.

Hialmar," he answered, calmly, "thy words are somewhat free, but mine shall remember thy gray hairs. Thou seest my four daughters; but I cannot give one as thy son's bride, seeing they are already betrothed in the fashion of our country; and a good knight's pledge is never broken." "And are there no more of the line of Aveyran?" inquired Hialmar.

"Who I am and what I seek, I will reveal ere I depart," abruptly said the wanderer; and with Sir Loys was about to reply, when, from a the chivalrous courtesy of old the host sought to side-table that had been spread with meagre, lentknow no more, but bade him welcome to Aveyran. en fare, contrasting with the plenty-laden board, The old man sat at the board, stern and grave, there rose up a man in a monk's dress. From and immovable as a statue; but his little son ran under the close cowl two piercing eyes confronted hither and thither, and played with the knight's the Lord of Aveyran. They seemed to force wife and her maidens, who praised his fair silken truth from his lips against his will. hair, his childish beauty, and his fearless confi- "I have one child more," he said, " a poor, dence. But wherever he moved, there followed worthless plant, but she will be made a nun. him continually the cold, piercing eyes of the Why dost thou gaze at me so strangely, Father nurse-a tall woman, whose dress was foreign, Ansgarius?" added the knight, uneasily. “Uland who never uttered a word, save in a tongue rika-Heaven rest her soul !"-and he crossed which sounded strange and harsh in the musical | himself almost fearfully" thy mother Ulrika ears of the Provençals. seems to look at me from thine eyes."

The feast over, the guest arose, and addressed the knight of Aveyran

"Sir Loys, for the welcome and good cheer thou hast given, receive the thanks of Hialmar Jarl, chief of all the Vikings of the north."

Hial

"Even so," said the monk, in a low tone. Then, Loys of Aveyran, hear her voice from my lips. I see in the words of this strange guest the working of Heaven's will. Do thou dispute it not. Send for the child Hermolin."

The knight's loud laugh rang out as scornfully as years before in the little turret-chamber.

At this name, once the terror of half of Europe, the knight made a gesture of surprise, and a thrill of apprehension ran through the hall. "What!" said he, though he took courteous mar saw it, and a proud smile bent his lips. care the words should not reach Hialınar's ears, "Children of the south, ye need not fear," am I to be swayed hither and thither by old though the sea-eagle is in your very nest; he is women's dreams and priestly prophecies? I thought old and gray-his talons are weak now," said the it was by thy consent, good father, that she was Jarl, adopting the metaphorical name which had to become a nun, and now thou sayest she shall been given him in former times, and which was wed this young whelp of a northern bear." his boast still.

"Hialmar is welcome-we fear no enemy in a guest and a stranger," answered Sir Loys. "Let the noble Jarl say on."

The Viking continued

"I have vowed to take for my son a southern bride. Throughout Europe, I have found no nest in which the young eagle could mate. Sir Loys of Aveyran, thou art noble and courteous-thou hast many fair daughters-give me one, that I may betroth her unto my son."

Ansgarius replied not to this contemptuous speech, but his commanding eyes met the knight's, and once again the bold Sir Loys grew humble; as if the dead Ulrika's soul had passed into that of her son, so as to sway her foster-child still.

"It is a strange thing for a servant of Holy Church to strive to break a vow, especially which devotes a child to the Virgin. I dare not do so great a sin!” faintly argued the Lord of Aveyran.

But it seemed as though the cloudy, false subterfuge with which the knight had veiled his

meaning fell off, pierced through and through by the lightning of those truth-penetrating eyes. Sir Loys reddened to the very brow, with confusion as much as with anger.

"Isabelle," he muttered, "desire one of thy maidens to bring hither our youngest child."

The silent, meek lady of Aveyran had never a word of opposition to any of her lord's behests. She only lifted up her placid eyes in astonishment at this unusual command, and then obeyed it.

hands, and though he strove to make his tone calm, as became a right courteous knight, yet there was in it somewhat of wrathful sarcasm, as he addressed his guest.

“Jarl Hialmar, there stands my youngest child -though her looks would seem to belie the noble blood she owns. Heaven may take her, or thouI care little which, so as I am no more burthened with a jewel I covet not."

The Norseman eyed with curiosity and doubt the frail, trembling child, who stood still enshielded by Olof's arms. It might be that the magic of that boyish love drew also the father's pity towards the little Hermolin; or, perchance, the sorrowful, imploring look of those deep, lustrous brown eyes, brought back the memory of others, which long ago had drooped in darkness-the darkness of a life without love. The Jarl's face wore a new softness and tenderness when he beheld Hermolin ; she felt it, and trembled not when Olof led her to his father's knees.

Hermolin was brought, trembling, weeping, too terrified even to struggle. Oh, sad and darkened image of childhood, when a gleam of unwonted kindness and love seemed to strike almost with fear the poor desolate little heart, accustomed only to a gloomy life of coldness and neglect. For the dislike, almost hatred, that fell like a shadow on her unwelcome birth, had gathered deeper and darker over the lonely child. No father's smile, no mother's caresses, were her portion. Shut out from the sunshine of love, the young plant grew up frail, wan, feeble, without beauty or brightness. No one ever heard from Hermolin's lips the glad laughter of infancy: among her sisters, she seemed like a shadow in the midst of their "Ulva," he said, in his Norse language, "thou brightness. As she stood in the doorway, cow-hast been faithful, even as a mother, to thy lord's ering under the robe of her conductor, her thin child. What sayest thou-shall we take this poor hands hiding her pale face, so unlike a child's in unloved babe as a bride for the last of the race of its sharp outline, and her large restless eyes Hialmar ?" glancing in terror on all before her, the Norsewoman's freezing gaze was the first turned towards her.

"By Odin! and it is such poor, worthless gifts as this that the Christians offer to their gods!" she muttered in her own language.

Hialmar, still irresolute, turned to the nurse, who stood behind, watching every movement of her foster-son.

Ulva's cold eyes regarded Hermolin; they wandered with jealous eagerness over the slight drooping form; the white thin arms, that seemed wasting away like the last snow-wreaths of winter; the quick-flitting roses that deepened and faded momentarily on the marble cheek; and she said, in her

"What art thou saying, Ulva ?" sharply asked heart— the Viking.

"Nothing, my lord," she answered, submissively, "but that the young Olof has at last found himself a bride. Look there."

The noble boy, whose fearless, frank, and generous spirit even now shone out, had darted forward, and now, with his arms clasped round Hermolin's neck, was soothing her fears, and trying to encourage her with childish caresses. The little girl understood not a word of his strange Norse tongue, but the tones were gentle and loving. She looked up at the sweet young face that bent over, half-wondering at something which seemed new to her in the blue eyes and bright golden hair. Twining her fingers in one of Olof's abundant locks, she compared it with one of her own long dark curls, laughed a low musical laugh, and finally, reassured, put up her little mouth to kiss him, in perfect confidence. Olof, proud of his success, led the little maiden through the room, amidst many a covert smile and jest.

"It is well; death will come before the bridal; and then, the vow fulfilled, Olof shall take a northern maiden to his bosom, and the footstep of the stranger shall not defile the halls of his fathers." Then Ulva bent humbly before the Viking, saying aloud

My lips are not worthy to utter their desire; but has not the young Olof himself chosen. `The great Odin sometimes speaks his will by the lips of babes, as well as by those of aged seers. It may be so now!"

"Sir Loys, I

"It shall be!" cried Hialmar. take thy daughter to be mine, according as thou saidst. Thy church must seek another votary; for Hermolin shall be Olof's bride."

So saying, he enclosed both the children in his embrace, at which young Olof laughed, and clapped his hands, while the little Hermolin, half afraid, half wondering, only looked in the boy's bright face, and her own was lit up with confidence and joy. So, during the whole ceremony of betrothal, But when the two children came near Sir Loys, the baby-bride still seemed to draw courage and Hermolin shrank back, and clung, weeping, to gladness from the fearless smile of her boy-lover, Olof's breast. There was no love in the father's never removing her gaze from that sweet counteheart, but there was much of pride and bitterness.nance, which had thus dawned upon her, the first The child's unconscious terror proclaimed aloud all love sunshine her young life had ever known. the secrets of her cheerless life; it angered him When Olof was parted from his childish spouse, beyond endurance. He clenched his gauntleted she clung to him with a wild, despairing energy,

"It will come, that glory-I see it now-the golden cross she bears upon the hills of snow. There are foot-steps before her-they are thine, son of my hopes-child of my long-enduring faith! Ansgarius-my Ansgarius-thou art the blessed -the chosen one!"

Her voice failed suddenly, and she sank, on bended knees, at the feet of the Virgin. Ansga-around, and his own grew dark with anger. rius, startled, almost terrified, lifted up his head, so that the lamplight illumined her face. son looked on his dead mother.

CHAPTER II.

The

LET us pass over a few years, before we stand broad, yet." once more in the gray towers of Aveyran.

It was a feast, for Sir Loys was entertaining a strange guest-an old man, who came unattended and unaccompanied, save by a child and its nurse. He had claimed, rather than implored, hospitality; and though he came in such humble guise, there was a nobility in his bearing which impressed the knight with perfect faith in his truth, when the wanderer declared his rank to be equal with that of Sir Loys himself.

"Who I am and what I seek, I will reveal ere I depart," abruptly said the wanderer; and with the chivalrous courtesy of old the host sought to know no more, but bade him welcome to Aveyran. The old man sat at the board, stern and grave, and immovable as a statue; but his little son ran hither and thither, and played with the knight's wife and her maidens, who praised his fair silken hair, his childish beauty, and his fearless confidence. But wherever he moved, there followed him continually the cold, piercing eyes of the nurse-a tall woman, whose dress was foreign, and who never uttered a word, save in a tongue which sounded strange and harsh in the musical ears of the Provençals.

The feast over, the guest arose, and addressed the knight of Aveyran

"Sir Loys, for the welcome and good cheer thou hast given, receive the thanks of Hialmar Jarl, chief of all the Vikings of the north."

At this name, once the terror of half of Europe, the knight made a gesture of surprise, and a thrill of apprehension ran through the hall. Hialmar saw it, and a proud smile bent his lips.

Sir Loys half-drew his sword, and then replaced it. He was too true a knight to show discourtesy to an aged and unarmed guest.

'Hialmar," he answered, calmly, "thy words are somewhat free, but mine shall remember thy gray hairs. Thou seest my four daughters; but I cannot give one as thy son's bride, seeing they are already betrothed in the fashion of our country; and a good knight's pledge is never broken." "And are there no more of the line of Aveyran ?" inquired Hialmar.

Sir Loys was about to reply, when, from a side-table that had been spread with meagre, lenten fare, contrasting with the plenty-laden board, there rose up a man in a monk's dress. From under the close cowl two piercing eyes confronted the Lord of Aveyran. They seemed to force truth from his lips against his will.

"I have one child more," he said, " a poor, worthless plant, but she will be made a nun. Why dost thou gaze at me so strangely, Father Ansgarius?" added the knight, uneasily. "Ulrika-Heaven rest her soul!"-and he crossed himself almost fearfully-"thy mother Ulrika seems to look at me from thine eyes."

The knight's loud laugh rang out as scornfully as years before in the little turret-chamber.

"What!" said he, though he took courteous care the words should not reach Hialmar's ears, fear," am I to be swayed hither and thither by old women's dreams and priestly prophecies? I thought it was by thy consent, good father, that she was to become a nun, and now thou sayest she shall wed this young whelp of a northern bear."

"Children of the south, ye need not though the sea-eagle is in your very nest; he is old and gray-his talons are weak now," said the Jarl, adopting the metaphorical name which had been given him in former times, and which was his boast still.

"Hialmar is welcome-we fear no enemy in a guest and a stranger," answered Sir Loys. "Let the noble Jarl say on."

The Viking continued―

"It is a strange thing for a servant of Holy Church to strive to break a vow, especially which devotes a child to the Virgin. I dare not do so great a sin!" faintly argued the Lord of Aveyran.

But it seemed as though the cloudy, false subterfuge with which the knight had veiled his

meaning fell off, pierced through and through by hands, and though he strove to make his tone the lightning of those truth-penetrating eyes. Sir calm, as became a right courteous knight, yet Loys reddened to the very brow, with confusion there was in it somewhat of wrathful sarcasm, as as much as with anger. he addressed his guest.

"Isabelle," he muttered, "desire one of thy maidens to bring hither our youngest child.”

The silent, meek lady of Aveyran had never a word of opposition to any of her lord's behests. She only lifted up her placid eyes in astonishment at this unusual command, and then obeyed it.

"Jarl Hialmar, there stands my youngest child -though her looks would seem to belie the noble blood she owns. Heaven may take her, or thouI care little which, so as I am no more burthened with a jewel I covet not."

The Norseman eyed with curiosity and doubt the frail, trembling child, who stood still enshielded by Olof's arms. It might be that the magic of that boyish love drew also the father's pity towards the little Hermolin; or, perchance, the sorrowful, imploring look of those deep, lustrous brown eyes, brought back the memory of others, which long ago had drooped in darkness—the darkness of a life without love. The Jarl's face wore a new softness and tenderness when he beheld Hermolin ; she felt it, and trembled not when Olof led her to his father's knees.

Hermolin was brought, trembling, weeping, too terrified even to struggle. Oh, sad and darkened image of childhood, when a gleam of unwonted kindness and love seemed to strike almost with fear the poor desolate little heart, accustomed only to a gloomy life of coldness and neglect. For the dislike, almost hatred, that fell like a shadow on her unwelcome birth, had gathered deeper and darker over the lonely child. No father's smile, no mother's caresses, were her portion. Shut out from the sunshine of love, the young plant grew up frail, wan, feeble, without beauty or brightness. No one ever heard from Hermolin's lips the glad laughter of infancy: among her sisters, she seemed like a shadow in the midst of their "Ulva," he said, in his Norse language, "thou brightness. As she stood in the doorway, cow- hast been faithful, even as a mother, to thy lord's ering under the robe of her conductor, her thin child. What sayest thou-shall we take this poor hands hiding her pale face, so unlike a child's in unloved babe as a bride for the last of the race of its sharp outline, and her large restless eyes | Hialmar?" glancing in terror on all before her, the Norse- Ulva's cold eyes regarded Hermolin; they wanwoman's freezing gaze was the first turned towards her.

"By Odin! and it is such poor, worthless gifts as this that the Christians offer to their gods!" she muttered in her own language.

Hialmar, still irresolute, turned to the nurse, who stood behind, watching every movement of her foster-son.

dered with jealous eagerness over the slight drooping form; the white thin arms, that seemed wasting away like the last snow-wreaths of winter; the quick-flitting roses that deepened and faded momentarily on the marble cheek; and she said, in her

"What art thou saying, Ulva?" sharply asked heart— the Viking.

"Nothing, my lord," she answered, submissively, "but that the young Olof has at last found himself a bride. Look there."

My lips are not worthy to utter their desire; but has not the young Olof himself chosen. The great Odin sometimes speaks his will by the lips of babes, as well as by those of aged seers. It may be so now!"

"It shall be!" cried Hialmar. "Sir Loys, I take thy daughter to be mine, according as thou saidst. Thy church must seek another votary; for Hermolin shall be Olof's bride."

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Littell's Living Age, Volume 21