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His captive's eyes were not the only ones upon him, and the bright metal showed that he was laughing a little at the comments his performance drew forth from the three old cnihts lounging near him. "Tending by five hairs to the sword-side, Lord Sebert," one of them was offering quizzical criticism over his drinking-horn.
This privilege, it is said, was first granted to the abbey by Sebert, king of the East Saxons, increased by King Edgar, and confirmed by Edward the Confessor, by the following charter:
"That is unjustly spoken, lord," he protested. "Did I not bear my punishment with befitting penitence?" "Penitence!" the Etheling gave one of the small ears a menacing pull as he descended to the grass. "What! Do you think I did not see your antics with the dog? You made a jest of the matter, you pixie!" The page sobered. "I think it great luck that I could, Lord Sebert!
Even the braver of the English nobles, who for race-pride alone might have supported Sebert in a valid claim, saw nothing to do now but to draw away, with a silent interchange of shrugs and headshakes, and leave him to his doom. In the shadow of his hand, Canute nodded slowly. "By all the laws of war," he affirmed, "your kinsman's inheritance should be your share of the spoil."
In the pause, the page bent toward his master, his face alight with a sudden fierce triumph. "Lord," he whispered, "you can never get out! You are caught as though they had you in a trap!" Astounded, Sebert drew back to stare at him. "Fridtjof! It is not possible that you are unfaithful to me!" The boy's only answer was to drop down upon the step and bury his face in his hands.
So hot was his scorn that he was obliged to cool it in his ale, coming to the surface slightly mollified. "However, Lord Sebert, you have cast your colt's-teeth, and I have no desire to tread upon the toes of your dignity. If I have been over-free, excuse it in your father's old servant and comrade who has guarded and guided you since since you have had teeth to cast."
Sebert would not have been young and a soldier if he had not felt keen delight tingle through every nerve. Indeed, his pleasure was so great that he dared say little in acknowledgment, lest it betray him into too great cordiality toward this stern young ruler who, though in reality a year younger than he, seemed to have become many years his senior.
With a gesture, half paternal, half respectful, he betook himself across the grass to the gate. Old Morcard turned and stepped up into the doorway, from which he looked down indulgently upon his laughing master. "It happened formerly, Lord Sebert, that I knew how to command your earnestness, and that speedily; but that time has long gone by.
Coming close to him, she pulled aside the dusty cloak, hot as a live coal in the glare of the day, and there behold! there were blood stains on the breast of his blue kirtle. Forgetful of everything else, she flung her arms around him as though to shield him. "Sebert, you are wounded! What is it?"
Sebert sustained the look with proud steadiness. "Nothing that would be of use to me," he said; "and I do not choose to pleasure you by setting up a weak plea for you to knock down again. The right which gave Britain to the Saxons has given England to the Danes, and it is not by words that such a right can be disputed.
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