CHAPTER V.
On entering the chamber set apart for him in the convent, Harold found
Haco and Wolnoth already awaiting him; and a wound he had received in
the last skirmish against the Bretons, having broken out afresh on the
road, allowed him an excuse to spend the rest of the evening alone
with his kinsmen.
On conversing with them--now at length, and unrestrainedly--Harold saw
everything to increase his alarm; for even Wolnoth, when closely
pressed, could not but give evidence of the unscrupulous astuteness
with which, despite all the boasted honour of chivalry, the Duke's
character was stained. For, indeed in his excuse, it must be said,
that from the age of eight, exposed to the snares of his own kinsmen,
and more often saved by craft than by strength, William had been
taught betimes to justify dissimulation, and confound wisdom with
guile. Harold now bitterly recalled the parting words of Edward, and
recognised their justice, though as yet he did not see all that they
portended. Fevered and disquieted yet more by the news from England,
and conscious that not only the power of his House and the foundations
of his aspiring hopes, but the very weal and safety of the land, were
daily imperilled by his continued absence, a vague and unspeakable
terror for the first time in his life preyed on his bold heart--a
terror like that of superstition, for, like superstition, it was of
the Unknown; there was everything to shun, yet no substance to grapple
with. He who could have smiled at the brief pangs of death, shrunk
from the thought of the perpetual prison; he, whose spirit rose
elastic to every storm of life, and exulted in the air of action,
stood appalled at the fear of blindness;--blindness in the midst of a
career so grand;--blindness in the midst of his pathway to a throne;--
blindness, that curse which palsies the strong and enslaves the free,
and leaves the whole man defenceless;--defenceless in an Age of Iron.
What, too, were those mysterious points on which he was to satisfy the
Duke? He sounded his young kinsmen; but Wolnoth evidently knew
nothing; Haco's eye showed intelligence, but by his looks and gestures
he seemed to signify that what he knew he would only disclose to
Harold.
Fatigued, not more with his emotions than with that exertion to
conceal them so peculiar to the English character (proud virtue of
manhood so little appreciated, and so rarely understood!) he at length
kissed Wolnoth, and dismissed him, yawning, to his rest. Haco,
lingering, closed the door, and looked long and mournfully at the
Earl.
"Noble kinsman," said the young son of Sweyn, "I foresaw from the
first, that as our fate will be thine;--only round thee will be wall
and fosse; unless, indeed, thou wilt lay aside thine own nature--it
will give thee no armour here--and assume that which----"
"Ho!" interrupted the Earl, shaking with repressed passion, "I see
already all the foul fraud and treason to guest and noble that
surround me! But if the Duke dare such shame he shall do so in the
eyes of day. I will hail the first boat I see on his river, or his
sea-coast; and woe to those who lay hand on this arm to detain me!"
Haco lifted his ominous eyes to Harold's; and there was something in
their cold and unimpassioned expression which seemed to repel all
enthusiasm, and to deaden all courage.
"Harold," said he, "if but for one such moment thou obeyest the
impulses of thy manly pride, or thy just resentment, thou art lost for
ever; one show of violence, one word of affront, and thou givest the
Duke the excuse he thirsts for. Escape! It is impossible. For the
last five years, I have pondered night and day the means of flight;
for I deem that my hostageship, by right, is long since over; and no
means have I seen or found. Spies dog my every step, as spies, no
doubt, dog thine."
"Ha! it is true," said Harold; "never once have I wandered three paces
from the camp or the troop, but, under some pretext, I have been
followed by knight or courtier. God and our Lady help me, if but for
England's sake! But what counsellest thou? Boy, teach me; thou hast
been reared in this air of wile--to me it is strange, and I am as a
wild beast encompassed by a circle of fire."
"Then," answered Haco, "meet craft by craft, smile by smile. Feel
that thou art under compulsion, and act,--as the Church itself pardons
men for acting, so compelled."
Harold started, and the blush spread red over his cheeks.
Haco continued.
"Once in prison, and thou art lost evermore to the sight of men.
William would not then dare to release thee--unless, indeed, he first
rendered thee powerless to avenge. Though I will not malign him, and
say that he himself is capable of secret murder, yet he has ever those
about him who are. He drops in his wrath some hasty word; it is
seized by ready and ruthless tools. The great Count of Bretagne was
in his way; William feared him as he fears thee; and in his own court,
and amongst his own men, the great Count of Bretagne died by poison.
For thy doom, open or secret, William, however, could find ample
excuse."
"How, boy? What charge can the Norman bring against a free
Englishman?"
"His kinsman Alfred," answered Haco, "was blinded, tortured, and
murdered. And in the court of Rouen, they say these deeds were done
by Godwin, thy father. The Normans who escorted Alfred were decimated
in cold blood; again, they say Godwin thy father slaughtered them."
"It is hell's own lie!" cried Harold, "and so have I proved already
to the Duke."
"Proved? No! The lamb does not prove the cause which is prejudged by
the wolf. Often and often have I heard the Normans speak of those
deeds, and cry that vengeance yet shall await them. It is but to
renew the old accusation, to say Godwin's sudden death was God's proof
of his crime, and even Edward himself would forgive the Duke for thy
bloody death. But grant the best; grant that the more lenient doom
were but the prison; grant that Edward and the English invaded
Normandy to enforce thy freedom; knowest thou what William hath ere
now done with hostages? He hath put them in the van of his army, and
seared out their eyes in the sight of both hosts. Deemest thou he
would be more gentle to us and to thee? Such are thy dangers. Be
bold and frank,--and thou canst not escape them; be wary and wise,
promise and feign,--and they are baffled: cover thy lion heart with
the fox's hide until thou art free from the toils."
"Leave me, leave me," said Harold, hastily. "Yet, hold. Thou didst
seem to understand me when I hinted of--in a word, what is the object
William would gain from me?"
Haco looked around; again went to the door--again opened and closed
it--approached, and whispered, "The crown of England!"
The Earl bounded as if shot to the heart; then, again he cried: "Leave
me. I must be alone--alone now. Go! go!"
