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They had, probably, another daughter beside; married, it may be, to some son of Leofric's stanch friend old Siward Biorn, the Viking Earl of Northumberland, and conqueror of Macbeth; and the mother, may be, of the two young Siwards, the "white" and the "red," who figure in chronicle and legend as the nephews of Hereward. But this pedigree is little more than a conjecture.
The two young Siwards, as knowing the country and the folk, pushed forward, and with them Martin Lightfoot, to bring back news. Martin ran back all the way from Holbeach, the very first day, with right good news. There was not a Frenchman in the town. Neither was there, they said, in Spalding. Ivo Taillebois was still away at the wars, and long might he stay.
They were out in the court-yard, and safe for the moment. But whither should he take her? "To Earl Osbiorn," said one of the Siwards. But how to find him? "There is Bishop Christiern!" And the Bishop was caught and stopped. "This is an evil day's work, Sir Hereward." "Then help to mend it by taking care of these ladies, like a man of God." And he explained the case.
If the wild Letts, even the Jomsburgers, had got in, all was lost. He rushed to the door. It was not yet burst: but a bench, swung by strong arms, was battering it in fast. "Winter! Geri! Siwards! To me, Hereward's men! Stand back, fellows. Here are friends here inside. If you do not, I'll cut you down." But in vain. The door was burst, and in poured the savage mob.
If she left him, if she herself freed him of her own will, why, he was free, and there was no more to be said about it. Where were the two young Siwards? It is not said. Probably they, and a few desperadoes, followed the fashion of so many English in those sad days, when, as sings the Norse scald, "Cold heart and bloody hand Now rule English land,"
They who remembered him, among those who had not yet lost that old-fashioned art, were very few a young girl here and there, over whom he had been absent-mindedly sentimental; a débutante or two who had adored him from a distance as a friend of elder sister or brother; here and there an old, old lady to whom he had been considerate, and who perhaps remembered something of the winning charm of the Siwards when the town was young his father, perhaps, perhaps his grandfather these thought of him at intervals; the remainder had no leisure to remember even if they had not forgotten how to do it.
Under cover of a rapid-fire exchange of pleasantries between Fleetwood and O'Hara, Plank turned to Mortimer, hesitating: "I rather liked Siward when I met him at Shotover," he ventured. "I'm very sorry he's down and out." "He drinks," shrugged Mortimer, diluting his mineral water with Irish whisky. "He can't let it alone; he's like all the Siwards.
And she could not reconcile this with his appearance. However, the train of unlinked ideas which she pursued began to form the semblance of a chain. Coupling his name with Quarrier's, and with a club, aroused memory; vague uneasiness stirred her to a glimmering comprehension. Siward? Stephen Siward? One of the New York Siwards then; one of that race
You have heard that he has been foolish, and because he's so young, so likable, every instinct, every impulse in you is aroused to to be nice to him " "And if that were " "There is no harm, dear " Mrs. Ferrall hesitated, her grey eyes softening to a graver revery. Then looking up: "It's rather pathetic," she said in a low voice. "Kemp thinks he's foredoomed like all the Siwards.
Indeed, the few qualified to snub him cared nothing about the matter, and it was not likely that anybody else would take the initiative in being disagreeable to a young man, the fortunes and misfortunes of whose race were part of the history of Manhattan Island. Siwards, good or bad, were a matter of course in New York.
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