CHAPTER VIII.
It was the second day after that which assured him the allegiance of
the thegns, that a message was brought to Harold from the Lady Aldyth.
She was in Oxford, at a convent, with her young daughter by the Welch
King; she prayed him to visit her. The Earl, whose active mind,
abstaining from the intrigues around him, was delivered up to the
thoughts, restless and feverish, which haunt the repose of all active
minds, was not unwilling to escape awhile from himself. He went to
Aldyth. The royal widow had laid by the signs of mourning; she was
dressed with the usual stately and loose-robed splendour of Saxon
matrons, and all the proud beauty of her youth was restored to her
cheek. At her feet was that daughter who afterwards married the
Fleance so familiar to us in Shakespeare, and became the ancestral
mother of those Scottish kings who had passed, in pale shadows, across
the eyes of Macbeth [216]; by the side of that child, Harold to his
surprise saw the ever ominous face of Haco.
But proud as was Aldyth, all pride seemed humbled into woman's sweeter
emotions at the sight of the Earl, and she was at first unable to
command words to answer his greeting.
Gradually, however, she warmed into cordial confidence. She touched
lightly on her past sorrows; she permitted it to be seen that her lot
with the fierce Gryffyth had been one not more of public calamity than
of domestic grief, and that in the natural awe and horror which the
murder of her lord had caused, she felt rather for the ill-starred
king than the beloved spouse. She then passed to the differences
still existing between her house and Harold's, and spoke well and
wisely of the desire of the young Earls to conciliate his grace and
favour.
While thus speaking, Morcar and Edwin, as if accidentally, entered,
and their salutations of Harold were such as became their relative
positions; reserved, not distant--respectful, not servile. With the
delicacy of high natures, they avoided touching on the cause before
the Witan (fixed for the morrow), on which depended their earldoms or
their exile.
Harold was pleased by their bearing, and attracted towards them by the
memory of the affectionate words that had passed between him and
Leofric, their illustrious grandsire, over his father's corpse. He
thought then of his own prayer: "Let there be peace between thine and
mine!" and looking at their fair and stately youth, and noble
carriage, he could not but feel that the men of Northumbria and of
Mercia had chosen well. The discourse, however, was naturally brief,
since thus made general; the visit soon ceased, and the brothers
attended Harold to the door with the courtesy of the times. Then Haco
said, with that faint movement of the lips which was his only approach
to a smile:
"Will ye not, noble thegns, give your hands to my kinsman?"
"Surely," said Edwin, the handsomer and more gentle of the two, and
who, having a poet's nature, felt a poet's enthusiasm for the gallant
deeds even of a rival,--"surely, if the Earl will accept the hands of
those who trust never to be compelled to draw sword against England's
hero."
Harold stretched forth his hand in reply, and that cordial and
immemorial pledge of our national friendships was interchanged.
Gaining the street, Harold said to his nephew:
"Standing as I do towards the young Earls, that appeal of thine had
been better omitted."
"Nay," answered Haco; "their cause is already prejudged in their
favour. And thou must ally thyself with the heirs of Leofric, and the
successors of Siward."
Harold made no answer. There was something in the positive tone of
this beardless youth that displeased him; but he remembered that Haco
was the son of Sweyn, Godwin's first-born, and that, but for Sweyn's
crimes, Haco might have held the place in England he held himself, and
looked to the same august destinies beyond.
In the evening a messenger from the Roman house arrived, with two
letters for Harold; one from Hilda, that contained but these words:
"Again peril menaces thee, but in the shape of good. Beware! and,
above all, of the evil that wears the form of wisdom."
The other letter was from Edith; it was long for the letters of that
age, and every sentence spoke a heart wrapped in his.
Reading the last, Hilda's warnings were forgotten. The picture of
Edith--the prospect of a power that might at last effect their union,
and reward her long devotion--rose before him, to the exclusion of
wilder fancies and loftier hopes; and his sleep that night was full of
youthful and happy dreams.
The next day the Witan met. The meeting was less stormy than had been
expected; for the minds of most men were made up, and so far as Tostig
was interested, the facts were too evident and notorious, the
witnesses too numerous, to leave any option to the judges. Edward, on
whom alone Tostig had relied, had already, with his ordinary
vacillation, been swayed towards a right decision, partly by the
counsels of Alred and his other prelates, and especially by the
representations of Haco, whose grave bearing and profound
dissimulation had gained a singular influence over the formal and
melancholy King.
By some previous compact or understanding between the opposing
parties, there was no attempt, however, to push matters against the
offending Tostig to vindictive extremes. There was no suggestion of
outlawry, or punishment, beyond the simple deprivation of the earldom
he had abused. And in return for this moderation on the one side, the
other agreed to support and ratify the new election of the
Northumbrians. Morcar was thus formally invested with the vice-
kingship of that great realm; while Edwin was confirmed in the earldom
of the principal part of Mercia.
On the announcement of these decrees, which were received with loud
applause by all the crowd assembled to hear them, Tostig, rallying
round him his house-carles, left the town. He went first to Githa,
with whom his wife had sought refuge, and, after a long conference
with his mother, he, and his haughty Countess, journeyed to the sea-
coast, and took ship for Flanders.
