After the incidents narrated in the foregoing chapter, there followed a scene of complete disorder. Many of those who were well affected towards the Prince and his cause, fell away from him, and quitted the dwelling with Sigurd and myself; and speedily the Atheling was left quite alone, saving his personal friends, who had journeyed with him from Scotland, and who were mostly foreigners.

Whilst this had been transpiring, most of the camp was wrapped in profound slumber. The followers and housecarles who had accompanied their masters, had found resting-places in the outhouses, amid the hay and bracken which had been accumulated for the fodder and bedding of the cattle during the winter months. But Badger was ill at ease amid it all. Some presentiment of evil disturbed his slumbers, and he turned uneasily again and again; finally he sprang bolt upright, and grasped his sword, at the same time giving Wulfhere a rough shake, which thoroughly roused him also on the instant.

"What is the matter, Badger? Anything amiss?"

"Hush! there are men astir in the camp. I warrant there is some mischief abroad, and I'll know the bottom of it."

At that moment two men entered stealthily at the farther end, where the horses were stalled. Wulfhere and Badger drew their swords, and instinctively ran their fingers down the blades in the darkness. The movements of the two men were plainly visible to the watchers, for the moonlight streaming in through the open door showed their outline very distinctly as they moved to and fro. Immediately the men began to saddle several horses belonging to the Prince, and then they led them out.

"There is a move of some sort, Wulfhere, and I warrant mischief is in it, for there are snakes about. A murrain on them! I am determined to know what it means. You stay here," said Badger—he, at the same time, stealing noiselessly out at the opposite end of the building.

As soon as he reached the open air, he saw, across the enclosure, that there were lights in the dwelling; so he nimbly dodged round, keeping in the shadow of the buildings, until he reached the rear of the house. There, peering through a crazy, patched window, he not only saw what was going on inside, but he overheard this conversation between the Atheling and his favourite Alred:—

"My stomach will stand no more on't, sweet Alred. Such a ruffian, boorish crew are not fit company for a prince. Then I believe that huge, over-grown Norse clown would carry out his threat, and take my life in a moment, if he got the chance. Curses on them all! Upon my soul, I wish the Normans would swoop down upon them, and cut the vile hogs into mincemeat."

"Bravo, Prince! That is a Heaven-sent suggestion, upon my soul!" interjected Alred. "I match you against any one of the seven sages. Whew! it just jumps with my humour. The Normans are in force, too, not more than half a dozen miles away. What a tour-de-force to bring the Normans down upon them by the morning! 'Twould be a stroke of policy William could not excel. Ah! look here—speaking of William: he would load you with favours, and replenish your royal treasury bountifully; then, heigho! there would always be a flowing bowl of Rhenish, or good Canary, and the sweet blue eyes of my lady-love would sparkle again. A fig for a kingdom, and the toiling and moiling of it! Give me the jolly life where care sits lightly, and my own sweet will can be indulged. To Rouen, say I again, with William's goodwill and his gold pieces!"

"Let us away, Alred! Upon my soul, revenge is sweet. You say right, too; when one does a service for William, there follow royal gifts enow. I would rather have a double purpose than a bootless errand, any day? Where are the churls who are saddling the horses?"

Having overheard this speech, Badger darted back to his comrade, who was awaiting his return impatiently.

"Heigho, Wulfhere! this princeling plots mischief. He will betray the camp, the hound, I do believe. Come along; let us dog his footsteps."

So the pair sallied out of the enclosure in the wake of the Prince, his parasites, and several serving-men. The party slowly threaded their way through the woods and entered a narrow defile between precipitous hills on either side; all the while being steadily followed by the two Saxons. Suddenly, on one side, the mountain range came to an abrupt termination, ending in a bold promontory running up to a point. At this juncture the valley broadened out into magnificent proportions, and a spacious lake of water gleamed in the darkness. Turning to the left, they skirted the lake for a couple of miles or more. Suddenly, however, they were confronted by a pair of Norman sentries, who challenged the party, and some time was spent in pourparlers; then one of the sentries accompanied them to the Norman encampment, not more than a quarter of a mile away, the lurid light of their fires making visible some portions of the Norman quarters.

Wulfhere and Badger were obliged to come to a halt, for the remaining sentry barred their further progress, even if they dared come nearer the encampment of the enemy. They waited and watched until they saw the forms of the Prince and his followers come within the circle of light thrown off by the blazing wood fires.

"Now," said Wulfhere, "there is nothing more to be done, Badger, I think. Let us go back now, and promptly warn our friends."

"Hold there, Wulfhere; there is something more to be done. Get thee back, and do thine errand. I have a little further business here, I can see. Tell the Earl I shall be rounding the great Nab's Head about break of day."

"What hast thou in the wind, Badger? Thou wilt be hazarding one prank too many some of these days."

"Never fear, comrade, I know my way about, whether it be light or dark. Besides, my business is such as would disgrace a half-bred knight like thyself. Dost thou see, Grizzly here, and myself, have no dignity to uphold? so we may do anything either boldly or slily, as it suits our humour, if it only brings grist to the mill. Well, now be off. There is no time to talk, for it only hinders business. Come, Grizzly," said Badger, addressing his hound as soon as the form of Wulfhere was lost to view. "You know, Grizzly, you and I are not supposed to be above borrowing a few head of cattle, or to be too proud to do our own droving, at a pinch."

The fact was, the lynx eyes of Badger had espied a herd of cattle lying together under the trees by the side of the lake, although the darkness was so deep that none but keen eyes would have detected their presence. He had seen them at once, and instantly his nimble brain began revolving some scheme for carrying them off.

"The cackling and talking has come to naught, as it mostly does," said he grunting to himself; "but beshrew me if I like a bootless errand. I'll try a cast of my own net, whether there is aught to it or not."

Now there was but one formidable obstacle in the way, and that was the solitary sentinel who still stood at his post, and who continued slowly pacing to and fro in a limited space.

Badger turned to the hound and addressed him, for he was in the habit of having sundry conferences with his favourite, who had partnered him in many a daring exploit.

"Well, Grizzly, what is to be done now? Eh, sir? We must have yon cattle, Grizzly, come fair or come foul. There is this scurvy Norman in the way. What are we to do with him? I think we can dispose of him somehow or other. What say you?"

Grizzly answered by a vigorous attempt to lick Badger's chops.

"Eh, sir? I don't doubt but we can finish him off easily enough, you and I together, Grizzly. But what will our Abbot say? Are you aware, sir, that you and I have a sacred calling—that we belong to the monastic order? Don't you remember the many sermons we have from our Abbot, on loving our enemies? I don't quite see the turn of the wit in the case of these Norman dogs, somehow or other. No doubt it is sound doctrine enough, but bad to practise. Well, let that pass. I have a feeling, though, I would rather not brain this fellow, if another turn will serve as well. Now it would certainly ease my mind to do it if I caught him, flagrante delicto, flagrante delicto. Grizzly, did you note, that is the monk that is speaking? You see I can mouth my Latin when it pleases me, Grizzly. There is many a scurvy monk knows less. But I say, Grizzly, I fancy the fellow's knees are knocking together already with fear at being left alone, and that is very suggestive. Let us try playing ghost with him."

So saying, Badger divested himself of his upper garments, leaving his shoulders and the upper parts of his body exposed. Then he took the garments and tied them deftly about the shoulders of Grizzly, giving him a most strange and uncouth appearance. Having done this, and without exposing themselves to view, Badger commenced to give forth, in a low tone, the most dismal groans, and varying this by most piercing shrieks of pain.

The Norman turned a terrified gaze in the direction from whence these strange noises came, evidently in great trepidation and fear. Then he darted off a few paces, as though about to beat a hasty retreat. This was enough. Badger saw at once that the ruse would answer. So, without more ado, he dropped down on all fours, and, accompanied by the dog, each of them presenting a most unearthly and fantastic appearance, they started off in the direction of the sentinel, the groans and shrieking of Badger deepening, and becoming most diabolical in tone and intensity.

The Norman for one moment turned a scared gaze on the advancing figures, which appeared to him to be none other than the Saxon devil Zernebock, of which many Normans went in mortal dread. Then, with the speed of the wind, he took to his heels and dashed off towards the camp. Quick as thought, Badger freed the dog from his trammels, and bade him fetch the cattle. In a very few minutes he was making off, all speed, with the herd.