Читать «Айвенго / Ivanhoe» онлайн - страница 34

“I was born free, father,” she said, “I was happy, was honoured, loved, and was beloved. I am now a miserable slave. Is it strange, father, that I hate people? Can the old hag before you forget she was once the daughter of the noble lord of Torquilstone?”

“You are Ulrica, the daughter of Torquil Wolfganger!” said Cedric; “you—the daughter of that noble Saxon, my father’s friend and ally!”

“Your father’s friend!” echoed Ulrica; “then Cedric called the Saxon stands before me, because noble Hereward of Rotherwood had only one son. But if you are Cedric of Rotherwood, why this religious dress?”

“It matters not who I am,” said Cedric; “go on, unhappy woman, with your story of horror and guilt.”

“There is,” answered the poor woman, “deep, black, heavy guilt. – Yes, in these halls, where my father and brothers died, I lived as a mistress of their killer! I lived with him, but I didn’t love him. No, with that at least I cannot reproach myself—I hated Front-de-Boeuf. And I have had my vengeance—because of me the wild son killed his tyrant father in a drunken quarrel!”

“And what happened to you, creature of guilt and misery,” said Cedric, “when that tyrant was dead?”

“Don’t ask me. – Here I lived and grew old before my time.”

“Ulrica,” said Cedric, “I am no priest, but I tell you: repent. Pray and repent, and may be your prayers will be accepted! But I cannot, I will not, stay here any longer.”

“Stay a little!” said Ulrica; “remember, I can call Front-de-Boeuf if I am too upset by your words.”

“Do it,” said Cedric; “and let him tear me apart, before I say one word which my heart does not believe. I will die a Saxon—true in word, open in deed. – The sight of Front-de-Boeuf himself is less odious to me than you, degraded and degenerate as you are.”

“Be it so,” said Ulrica, no longer interrupting him; “go your way, you have destroyed the last tie which seemed to unite me to mankind. But your words have awakened a new soul within me. Well have you said, all is possible for those who dare to die! There is a force outside this accursed castle—lead them to the attack, and press the Normans hard, they will then have enough to do within. Go, follow your own fate, and leave me to mine.”

At this moment they heard the voice of Front-de-Boeuf saying, “Where is this priest?” Ulrica left through another door, and Reginald Front-de-Boeuf entered the apartment. Cedric made himself bow to him.

“I have a task for you,” said the baron.

“Speak your commands,” said Cedric.

“Follow me, then.”

As they went, Front-de-Boeuf told pseudo monk to make the attacking forces stay near the castle and in the meanwhile to go to the castle of Philip de Malvoisin, give him a letter from the baron and ask him to send a man with it to York.

They passed the moat and reached a small barbican. “Go now,” said the baron and opened the gate.