Part 31 (1/2)

”Nay, for my lord and his wife and daughter. I am sent ahead to find lodging for them. They are on the road to Rutupiae, to take s.h.i.+p for Gaul, and travel by way of Londinium, where my lord hath affairs to settle; but the women have given out and vow that they will go no farther. So do the chickens break for cover when the hawk swoops.”

His voice was slightly contemptuous. He turned his face, covered with a wiry red beard, upon Wardo. His eyes, small and light, glinted from a network of wrinkles under reddish brows.

”You are no Roman,” he said abruptly.

”Why, no,” said Wardo, somewhat surprised, ”I am Saxon.”

”Like myself,” said the stranger, grandly. ”Men call me Wulf, the son of Wulf.”

”There is an inn here,” said Wardo, without returning information. ”I will show you, if you like. It is kept by Christians, and it is clean.”

”Then it will be poor,” Wulf grumbled, ”and the wine will not be fit for decent men.”

”There you are wrong,” said Wardo. ”It is where my lord Eudemius stops with his train when he pa.s.seth through here.”

”So!” Wulf's glance held awakening curiosity. ”The lord Eudemius of the white villa south of Bibracte?”

”That same,” said Wardo, with the pride of a servant in a well-known master.

”One hears tales of that house these days,” said Wulf, casually. ”See, friend, when I have made arrangement for my lords and brought them hither, is there not a place where we might find a mouthful of good Saxon ale?”

Wardo hesitated.

”I fear my time is too short,” he answered. ”Even now I am late--”

”For the maid who awaits thee?” said Wulf, with a chuckle. ”Well, I'll not keep thee then. But this much I'll tell thee now. When my lord sails with his familia from Rutupiae, it will be without Wulf, the son of Wulf.

I have it in mind to stay here longer; there will be fat pickings for Saxons by and by, when these Roman lords are crowded out. Hast heard that?”

”Ay,” said Wardo. ”I have heard it.”

”And it is in my mind also to try for some of these same fat pickings,”

said Wulf, and laughed. ”Why not I, as well as any man?”

”If you wait for these Roman lords to be crowded out, as you have it,”

said Wardo, ”it will be some time before these fat pickings fall to your lot.”

”Perhaps not so long time as one might think,” Wulf retorted. ”Hast heard of what happened at Anderida?”

”Oh, ay,” said Wardo. ”The lord governor of Anderida fled to the house of my lord.”

Wulf's glance became all at once as keen as a gaze-hound which sights its prey.

”Had he his son, called Felix, with him, a cat-eyed rascal, who was wounded?”

”Yes,” said Wardo, quite proud to tell his news. ”And on the evening of the feast the lord governor and his men rode away again. But he left his son behind him.”

A gleam shot into Wulf's light eyes.

”So?” he said pleasantly. ”Perhaps, then, this son Felix is still a guest of your lord?”