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Whistler, Charles W. (Charles Watts), 1856-1913

"A Prince of Cornwall A Story of Glastonbury and the West in the Days of Ina of Wessex"


He walked back and forth across the hall until Herewald came back,
and then started toward him.
"Go yonder and speak with her," the ealdorman said, pointing to the
door whence he came.
Then he went hastily, and we two looked at one another.
"How is it with her?" I said.
"In the way of the girl who helped you slay Morgan," he said
grimly. "She would hold him nidring if he had not wished to go."
We went to the door and looked out. All the road was dotted with
men from the nearer villages who came to the gathering, and as they
marched, each after the reeve of the place, they sang. And past the
hindmost of them came a single horseman hurrying. Another messenger
with the same news, doubtless.
Then there were footsteps across the hall behind us, and Elfrida
and Erpwald came to us. I stole one glance at her, and saw that she
hid her sorrow and pain well, though it was not without an effort.
She spoke fast, and seemingly in cheerful wise, as we turned to
her.
"Father, here is this Erpwald, who will go to the war, and I cannot
hold him back. What can you say to him?"
"Nought, surely. For if he will not listen to you, it is certain
that he will hearken to none else."
She laughed a little strained laugh, and turned to Erpwald.
"You must have your own way, as I can see plainly enough; and our
wedding must needs wait your pleasure.


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