Hereward, the Last of the English

  CHAPTER XIII.

  HOW HEREWARD WON MARE SWALLOW.

  On a bench at the door of his high-roofed wooden house sat DirkHammerhand, the richest man in Walcheren. From within the housesounded the pleasant noise of slave-women, grinding and chatting at thehandquern; from without, the pleasant noise of geese and fowls withoutnumber. And as he sat and drank his ale, and watched the herd of horsesin the fen, he thought himself a happy man, and thanked his Odin andThor that owing to his princely supplies of horses to Countess Gertrude,Robert the Frison and his Christian Franks had not harried him to thebare walls, as they would probably do ere all was over.

  As he looked at the horses, some half-mile off, he saw a strange stiramong them. They began whinnying and pawing round a four-footed thingin the midst, which might be a badger, or a wolf,--though both were veryuncommon in that pleasant isle of Walcheren; but which plainly had nobusiness there. Whereon he took up a mighty staff, and strode over thefen to see.

  He found neither wolf nor badger; but to his exceeding surprise, a longlean man, clothed in ragged horse-skins, whinnying and neighing exactlylike a horse, and then stooping to eat grass like one. He advanced to dothe first thing which came into his head, namely to break the man's backwith his staff, and ask him afterwards who he might be. But ere he couldstrike, the man or horse kicked up with his hind legs in his face, andthen springing on to the said hind legs ran away with extraordinaryswiftness some fifty yards; and then went down on all-fours and begangrazing again.

  "Beest thou man or devil?" cried Dirk, somewhat frightened.

  The thing looked up. The face at least was human.

  "Art thou a Christian man?" asked it in bad Frisian, intermixed withsnorts and neighs.

  "What's that to thee?" growled Dirk; and began to wish a little that hewas one, having heard that the sign of the cross was of great virtue indriving away fiends.

  "Thou art not Christian. Thou believest in Thor and Odin? Then there ishope."

  "Hope of what?" Dirk was growing more and more frightened.

  "Of her, my sister! Ah, my sister, can it be that I shall find thee atlast, after ten thousand miles, and thirty years of woeful wandering?"

  "I have no man's sister here. At least, my wife's brother was killed--"

  "I speak not of a sister in a woman's shape. Mine, alas!--O woefulprince, O more woeful princess!--eats the herb of the field somewhere inthe shape of a mare, as ugly as she was once beautiful, but swifter thanthe swallow on the wing."

  "I've none such here," quoth Dirk, thoroughly frightened, and glancinguneasily at mare Swallow.

  "You have not? Alas, wretched me! It was prophesied to me, by the witch,that I should find her in the field of one who worshipped the old gods;for had she come across a holy priest, she had been a woman again,long ago. Whither must I wander afresh!" And the thing began weepingbitterly, and then ate more grass.

  "I--that is--thou poor miserable creature," said Dirk, half pitying,half wishing to turn the subject, "leave off making a beast of thyselfawhile, and tell me who thou art."

  "I have made no beast of myself, most noble Earl of the Frisians, for soyou doubtless are. I was made a beast of,--a horse of, by an enchanterof a certain land, and my sister a mare."

  "Thou dost not say so!" quoth Dirk, who considered such an event quitepossible.

  "I was a prince of the county of Alboronia, which lies between Cathayand the Mountains of the Moon, as fair once as I am foul now, and onlyless fair than my lost sister; and, by the enchantments of a cruelmagician, we became what we are."

  "But thou art not a horse, at all events?"

  "Am I not? Thou knowest, then, more of me than I do of myself,"--and itate more grass. "But hear the rest of my story. My hapless sister wassold away, with me, to a merchant; but I, breaking loose from him, fleduntil I bathed in a magic fountain. At once I recovered my man's shape,and was rejoicing therein, when out of the fountain rose a fairy morebeautiful than an elf, and smiled upon me with love.

  "She asked me my story, and I told it. And when it was told, 'Wretch!'she cried, 'and coward, who hast deserted thy sister in her need. Iwould have loved thee, and made thee immortal as myself; but now thoushalt wander, ugly, and eating grass, clothed in the horse-hide whichhas just dropped from thy limbs, till thou shalt find thy sister, andbring her to bathe, like thee, in this magic well.'"

  "All good spirits help us! And you are really a prince?"

  "As surely," cried the thing, with a voice of sudden rapture, "as thatmare is my sister"; and he rushed at mare Swallow. "I see, I see, mymother's eyes, my father's nose--"

  "He must have been a chuckle-headed king that, then," grinned Dirk tohimself. "The mare's nose is as big as a buck-basket. But how can she bea princess, man,--prince, I mean? she has a foal running by her here."

  "A foal?" said the thing, solemnly. "Let me behold it. Alas, alas, mysister! Thy tyrant's threat has come true, that thou shouldst be hisbride whether thou wouldst or not. I see, I see in the features of thyson his hated lineaments."

  "Why he must be as like a horse, then, as your father. But this will notdo, Master Horse-man; I know that foal's pedigree better than I do myown."

  "Man, man, simple, though honest! Hast thou never heard of the skillof the enchanter of the East? How they transform their victims at nightback again into human shape, and by day into the shape of beasts again?"

  "Yes--well--I know that--"

  "And do you not see how you are deluded? Every night, doubt not, thatmare and foal take their human shape again; and every night, perhaps,that foul enchanter visits in your fen, perhaps in your very stable, hiswretched and perhaps unwilling bride."

  "An enchanter in my stable? That is an ugly guest. But no. I've beeninto the stables fifty times, to see if that mare was safe. Mare wasmare, and colt was colt, Mr. Prince, if I have eyes to see."

  "And what are eyes against enchantments? The moment you opened the door,the spell was cast over them again. You ought to thank your stars thatno worse has happened yet; that the enchanter, in fleeing, has not wrungyour neck as he went out, or cast a spell on you, which will fireyour barns, lame your geese, give your fowls the pip, your horses theglanders, your cattle the murrain, your children the St. Vitus' dance,your wife the creeping palsy, and yourself the chalk-stones in all yourfingers."

  "The Lord have mercy on me! If the half of this be true, I will turnChristian. I will send for a priest, and be baptized to-morrow!"

  "O my sister, my sister! Dost thou not know me? Dost thou answer mycaresses with kicks? Or is thy heart, as well as thy body, so enchainedby that cruel necromancer, that thou preferest to be his, and scornestthine own salvation, leaving me to eat grass till I die?"

  "I say, Prince,--I say,--What would you have a man to do? I bought themare honestly, and I have kept her well. She can't say aught againstme on that score. And whether she be princess or not, I'm loath to partwith her."

  "Keep her then, and keep with her the curse of all the saints andangels. Look down, ye holy saints" (and the thing poured out a longstring of saints' names), "and avenge this catholic princess, kept inbestial durance by an unbaptized heathen! May his--"

  "Don't! don't!" roared Dirk. "And don't look at me like that" (for hefeared the evil eye), "or I'll brain you with my staff!"

  "Fool, if I have lost a horse's figure, I have not lost his swiftness.Ere thou couldst strike, I should have run a mile and back, to cursethee afresh." And the thing ran round him, and fell on all-fours again,and ate grass.

  "Mercy, mercy! And that is more than I ever asked yet of man. But it ishard," growled he, "that a man should lose his money, because a roguesells him a princess in disguise."

  "Then sell her again; sell her, as thou valuest thy life, to the firstChristian man thou meetest. And yet no. What matters? Ere a month beover, the seven years' enchantment will have passed, and she will returnto her own shape, with her son, and vanish from thy farm, leaving theeto vain repentance, and so thou wilt both lose thy money and get hercurse
. Farewell, and my malison abide with thee!"

  And the thing, without another word, ran right away, neighing as itwent, leaving Dirk in a state of abject terror.

  He went home. He cursed the mare, he cursed the man who sold her, hecursed the day he saw her, he cursed the day he was born. He told hisstory with exaggerations and confusions in plenty to all in the house;and terror fell on them likewise. No one, that evening, dare go downinto the fen to drive the horses up; and Dirk got very drunk, went tobed, and trembled there all night (as did the rest of the household),expecting the enchanter to enter on a flaming fire-drake, at every howlof the wind.

  The next morning, as Dirk was going about his business with a dolefulface, casting stealthy glances at the fen, to see if the mysterious marewas still there, and a chance of his money still left, a man rode up tothe door.

  He was poorly clothed, with a long rusty sword by his side. A broad felthat, long boots, and a haversack behind his saddle, showed him to be atraveller, seemingly a horse-dealer; for there followed him, tied headand tail, a brace of sorry nags.

  "Heaven save all here," quoth he, making the sign of the cross. "Can anygood Christian give me a drink of milk?"

  "Ale, if thou wilt," said Dirk. "But what art thou, and whence?"

  On any other day, he would have tried to coax his guest into trying abuffet with him for his horse and clothes; but this morning his heartwas heavy with the thought of the enchanted mare, and he welcomed thechance of selling her to the stranger.

  "We are not very fond of strangers about here, since these Flemingshave been harrying our borders. If thou art a spy, it will be worse forthee."

  "I am neither spy nor Fleming; but a poor servant of the Lord Bishopof Utrecht's, buying a garron or two for his lordship's priests. As forthese Flemings, may St. John Baptist save from them both me and you. Doyou know of any man who has horses to sell hereabouts?"

  "There are horses in the fen yonder," quoth Dirk, who knew thatchurchmen were likely to give a liberal price, and pay in good silver.

  "I saw them as I rode up. And a fine lot they are; but of too good astamp for my short purse, or for my holy master's riding,--a fat priestlikes a quiet nag, my master."

  "Humph. Well, if quietness is what you need, there is a mare down there,a child might ride her with a thread of wool. But as for price,--and shehas a colt, too, running by her."

  "Ah?" quoth the horseman. "Well, your Walcheren folk make good milk,that's certain. A colt by her? That's awkward. My Lord does not likeyoung horses; and it would be troublesome, too, to take the thing alongwith me."

  The less anxious the dealer seemed to buy, the more anxious grew Dirkto sell; but he concealed his anxiety, and let the stranger turn away,thanking him for his drink.

  "I say!" he called after him. "You might look at her as you ride pastthe herd."

  The stranger assented, and they went down into the fen, and looked overthe precious mare, whose feats were afterwards sung by many an Englishfireside, or in the forest, beneath the hollins green, by such as RobinHood and his merry men. The ugliest, as well as the swiftest, of mares,she was, say the old chroniclers; and it was not till the strangerhad looked twice at her, that he forgot her great chuckle head,greyhound-flanks, and drooping hind-quarters, and began to see the greatlength of those same quarters,--the thighs let down into the hocks, thearched loin, the extraordinary girth through the saddle, the slopingshoulder, the long arms, the flat knees, the large, well-set hoofs, andall the other points which showed her strength and speed, and justifiedher fame.

  "She might carry a big man like you through the mud," said he,carelessly, "but as for pace, one cannot expect that with such a chucklehead. And if one rode her through a town, the boys would call after one,'All head and no tail.' Why, I can't see her tail for her quarters, itis so ill set on."

  "Ill set on, or none," said Dirk, testily; "don't go to speak againsther pace till you have seen it. Here, lass!"

  Dirk was, in his heart, rather afraid of the princess; but he wascomforted when she came up to him like a dog.

  "She's as sensible as a woman," said he; and then grumbled to himself,"may be she knows I mean to part with her."

  "Lend me your saddle," said he to the stranger.

  The stranger did so; and Dirk mounting galloped her in a ring. There wasno doubt of her powers, as soon as she began to move.

  "I hope you won't remember this against me, madam," said Dirk, as soonas he got out of the stranger's hearing. "I can't do less than sell youto a Christian. And certainly I have been as good a master to you as ifI'd known who you were; but if you wish to stay with me you've only tokick me off, and say so, and I'm yours to command."

  "Well, she can gallop a bit," said the stranger, as Dirk pulled her upand dismounted; "but an ugly brute she is nevertheless, and such aone as I should not care to ride, for I am a gay man among the ladies.However, what is your price?"

  Dirk named twice as much as he would have taken.

  "Half that, you mean." And the usual haggle began.

  "Tell thee what," said Dirk at last, "I am a man who has his fancies;and this shall be her price; half thy bid, and a box on the ear."

  The demon of covetousness had entered Dirk's heart. What if he got themoney, brained or at least disabled the stranger, and so had a chance ofselling the mare a second time to some fresh comer?

  "Thou art a strange fellow," quoth the horse-dealer. "But so be it."

  Dirk chuckled. "He does not know," thought he, "that he has to do withDirk Hammerhand," and he clenched his fist in anticipation of his roughjoke.

  "There," quoth the stranger, counting out the money carefully, "is thycoin. And there--is thy box on the ear."

  And with a blow which rattled over the fen, he felled Dirk Hammerhand tothe ground.

  He lay senseless for a moment, and then looked wildly round. His jaw wasbroken.

  "Villain!" groaned he. "It was I who was to give the buffet, not thou!"

  "Art mad?" asked the stranger, as he coolly picked up the coins, whichDirk had scattered in his fall. "It is the seller's business to take,and the buyer's to give."

  And while Dirk roared for help in vain he leapt on mare Swallow and rodeoff shouting,

  "Aha! Dirk Hammerhand! So you thought to knock a hole in my skull, asyou have done to many a better man than yourself. He is a lucky man whonever meets his match, Dirk. I shall give your love to the EnchantedPrince, my faithful serving-man, whom they call Martin Lightfoot."

  Dirk cursed the day he was born. Instead of the mare and colt, he hadgot the two wretched garrons which the stranger had left, and a facewhich made him so tender of his own teeth, that he never again offeredto try a buffet with a stranger.