Then the blood left her heart and all her face turned rosy. "Years ago," she answered him, "my lather's ship was wrecked on these rocks and only Walling, our house carl, some dogs and a little childling came alive to the shore. Here we lived in Mistland till you came and found me. Since then I have but lived till the time of your next coming. With you away, Mistland was dark and cold. Because I know you, I know you will wend your way back to your soul-going and leave me alone; and I am not sure I can live without you, but whatever you plan will be also of my wanting. Only spare me some hours so I can brew for you a simple that I know of, and, ere you come to your ending, drink it for my sake; for well I know that it will ease the pain and help you the better to meet the soul-letting that is being prepared for you."
This Raymond the Golden promised and she went into the tower, but Walling and the last of the Hubelaires walked down to the beach, and, at the end of the talking, the house carl made a sacred promise and swore to it by all the gods he wot of. The old man and the young drew blood from their arms and mixed it, and at that time.no one but the two of them knew of the sayings on the sand.
After supper, Raymond the Golden took the damsel by the hand and they walked on the beach listening to the waves murmuring to the sands till the moon was hill and they looked upon the golden ball with longing. At last they returned to the thick moss at the base of the tower and there, in the moonlight, they sat down. "Sing to me!" the woman said.
Then Raymond the Golden sang!
"Now little white clouds, on pine trees tall,
Threw shimmering shadows over the wall,
Where the spiders silent held their sway,
Spinning their webs of silvery gray.
There on the grass lay a maiden fair,
With cheeks of cream and raven hair.
So lightly she rested on the grass,
That it hardly bent at its lovely task.
Around her flew the moths so white,
To shade her eyes from the moonbeams bright.
Over her body a soft, sheet spread,
Made of down from a dandelion bed.
Out from the flowers a perfume rare,
Was brought by the wind with loving care,
And scattered over her body slight,
To pleasure her as she slept that night,
While mockingbirds, from the thicket near,
Sang songs of love for her sleeping ear."
He paused.
"And what then?" whispered the damsel.
"The rest cannot be sung," replied Raymond the Golden.
So they lay with each other, silent.
Later in the night, she woke, sobbing, and she whispered,
"Sing to me, beloved, for my comforting."
And he sang a song that, thus tar, he had never sung to anyone:
"Roses blush when they compare,
Their beauty with my lady fair.
At her feet, the birds of spring,
Silent keep, to hear her sing.
If I were sod, to lie beneath,
The fairy footfalls of her feet,
My happiness would be complete.
Then, in the garden, place my body dead,
So, when she picks the roses red,
Upon my loving heart she soft will tread —
She soft will tread.
And I, within my chambered walls so moist,
Will tremble and so happily rejoice,
To hear again the music of her voice,
The music of her lovely voice."
moss, telling Walling the house earl, to watch against her wakening. He told Walling of the greatness of the Hubelaires and how the family must not die. He gave him the parchment showing where the treasures were hid in the castle in Cornwall and said that it must be given to his son and that the carl must never let the lad forget that he was a Hubelaire. Then, with the flask of simples in his wallet, he went his way but he left his heart and life with the damsel.
Thus the Rathlings bad to deal only with the body of Raymond and, though Sardain did his uttermost, it was all too soon done with and the barbarian was greatly discontented. He commanded bis artist to make a picture of the soul-letting of Raymond the Golden and put on the last page of the book, to show that this man was the last of the Hubelaires. After that the Rathlings left the altar and the remaining meat around it to the wolves and from that time on they lived in the houses of the Hubelaires. Now when the damsel had spent the fill number of days, she went to her couch and there was delivered of a boy child with flaxen hair. Walling, who minded and tended her, washed the child and brought him to her to suckle.
"It is a man child and will do what is required of him," he said, and the damsel was pleasured at the strong tug of the babe and said, "I will call him Raymond and he shall be a true Hubelaire and when the hour comes he shall do the thing for which he was made."
The child slept.
But soon the damsel cried in anguish and when Walling reached her, he found another child, born of her travail, and this baby was small and twisted and very dark. Walling took the child to bathe it and was minded to kill it, but the mother read his mind, "This only also came from the seed of my dead husband, so I will nurse him too and they will grow up company for each other; and I will call him Doom."
Summers passed and fifteen winters howled over Mistland. One night after the lads were asleep, the white-haired woman called the house carl to the fireplace.
"Walling, you have more than a carl to me, and would that I could pay you, but the tale of your service is not yet told. The time draws near when we must have the Book, and well I know that in the getting of it you may lose your life and leave all the finishing of the task to me; yet, get the Book we must. It will — soon be time for the Spring Festival; mayhaps the Rathling will be drunken with wine in memory of that day, and you can get the Book without harm. But, oh, be sure to return, for I would not know how to struggle on without thy help." And the woman laid a tender hand on the old man's head.
Then Sardain, King of the Rathlings, commanded that the Book be brought before him, and he and all his followers made merry over what the artist had painted on the pages. They drank till they slept, and last of all the King slept, after vomiting on the last page, whereon was pictured the soul-letting of Raymond the Golden.
When he woke, the Book was gone; and fear fell on him because of the going of the Book. After that none dared speak to him of it, and always he walked with his eyes glancing backward over his shoulder. Yet, in bravado, he drank his slumber drink from a certain skull he had cleansed that fateful day and tried to satisfy himself that it all had really happened and that there was no cause for fear.
From then on Walling, the house earl, worked daily with the golden youth, teaching him all he knew of the use of the sword and shield and mace; how to thrust and guard. Month by month the lad grew and finally he could toy with the earl and do with him as he would. The little twisted lad would clap his hands at the sights he saw when the two men fought. He loved his wonderful brother with a great love.
At night the white-haired woman sat by the fire while the carl and the twinlings lay on skins at her feet. Then she told them of their lather and explained that they were the last of the House of the Hubelaires. She told of the bravery and gentleness of the House and how their father had loved her ere he died. When the moon was fill she sang them the songs that Raymond had sung, though always with a sob in her throat. Finally she told them of the last days and opened the Book and made young Raymond place his hand with hers on the last page and swear that he would purge the land of the blot on it and revenge his people; but she would never let the little, twisted dark lad swear.