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Article THE BEACON FIRE. ← Page 7 of 9 →
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Beacon Fire.
" He could not buy my faith , " said the wounded Saxou ; aud then , revived by a draught of water , he related how , in the darkness , Sweyn had stole . 1 up to the tower and tried to keep him from giving the alarm by promises of safety . As the listening soldiers clustered closer around him , he told his father of the struggle ; how at last he had stricken Sweyn to the ground , ancl had then fallen himself , dizzy , exhausted , ancl wounded by his false foe ; aud how he heard his father calling himbut could not summon strength to answer .
, The rough , stalwart Saxons heard his account with admiration , but it was mingled with sadness , for they saw that the youth was wounded mortally ; the dagger of the treacherous Sweyn had clone its work . "Thy first combat , and thy last ; " moaned Denewulf . "No matter , so long as it hath ended with honour , " replied Leofwine , with a bright smile .
" Thou sayest well , " responded his father , stifling the groan that rose to his lips , ancl regarding the prostrate lad with melancholy pride . At that moment a monk appeared to quiet and console the passing spirit of the brave boy warrior , ancl the soldiers drew back respectfully that he might do his office . As the priest concluded his prayer , a shaft of sunlight shot athwart the loft y beacon , and lighted up the face of Leofwine , as he lay
listening earnestl y to the words of the monk . From the church below the breeze brought the echo of the holy chant , " Gloria in exoelsis . " The youth turned his head to catch the sound as it floated up on its Heavenward journey . " It is Yuletide , " he murmured , faintl y ; then pointing to a spark that still flickered amid the ashes of the expiring watch-fire , —his wan , white face beaming with the brihtness of a proud sweet smile—he raised himself slihtland
g , gy , exclaimed , " I vowed not to let the fire be quenched till the last spark of mine own life had faded also . See ! I have kept my word . I die for my country and King Alfred . " Exhausted with this effort , Leofwine fell backward into the arms of his father . " It is gone now—cpiite gone , " he whispered ; and as the little spark vanished , the spirit of the speaker passed away .
For awhile there was silence ; the monk covered his face with his flowing robe ; the rough soldiers turned away to hide the feelings they were ashamed to shew . Denewulf alone knelt b y the dead boy , like one in a dream . He parted the shining locks from the pale brow , and gazed at the burnt and wounded hands that still grasped the broken handle of the battle-axe . " Poor boy , ancl was it for this I sent thee hither ? " he murmured to himself ; " Alas ! my child , my only child ! " and then for awhile the father bowed his head beneath the
weight of a woe too deep for words . The holy hymn still swelled sweet ancl clear through the wintry air , ancl an enduring smile rested on the features of the dead Saxon , whilst the sunbeams hovered warm ancl golden around him , like a glorious halo . At last Denewulf arose , as if angry with his own weakness . " Hehath died as I would have had him die , " said tho old soldier , solemnly . " It is well , let him be laid honourabl y in his grave . "
Leofwine was borne to his burial with all the martial honours that the Saxons were wont to bestow upon their departed chieftains ; his soldier ' s cloak formed his shroud , and his bier , carried on the shoulders of four stalwart warriors , was followed b y a long file of his comrades from the castle , whose bowed heads , dejected mien , ancl drooping spears , gave token of the sorrow and respect they felt , for young Leofwine had been beloved by all the Kentish men-at-arms .
And so the true-hearted Saxon youth was laid to his rest in the little God ' s Acre attached to the church of St . Mary-in-Castro , close by the scene of his noble deed on the Beacon-tower ; ancl the maidens of Dover wept and strewed flowers over his grave , the stern warriors standing round with glistening eyes as they paid the last honours to him they had loveel ancl lost . As for Red Sweyn , the traitor , his corpse was cast into the sea , to be tossed hither and thither by the waves .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
The Beacon Fire.
" He could not buy my faith , " said the wounded Saxou ; aud then , revived by a draught of water , he related how , in the darkness , Sweyn had stole . 1 up to the tower and tried to keep him from giving the alarm by promises of safety . As the listening soldiers clustered closer around him , he told his father of the struggle ; how at last he had stricken Sweyn to the ground , ancl had then fallen himself , dizzy , exhausted , ancl wounded by his false foe ; aud how he heard his father calling himbut could not summon strength to answer .
, The rough , stalwart Saxons heard his account with admiration , but it was mingled with sadness , for they saw that the youth was wounded mortally ; the dagger of the treacherous Sweyn had clone its work . "Thy first combat , and thy last ; " moaned Denewulf . "No matter , so long as it hath ended with honour , " replied Leofwine , with a bright smile .
" Thou sayest well , " responded his father , stifling the groan that rose to his lips , ancl regarding the prostrate lad with melancholy pride . At that moment a monk appeared to quiet and console the passing spirit of the brave boy warrior , ancl the soldiers drew back respectfully that he might do his office . As the priest concluded his prayer , a shaft of sunlight shot athwart the loft y beacon , and lighted up the face of Leofwine , as he lay
listening earnestl y to the words of the monk . From the church below the breeze brought the echo of the holy chant , " Gloria in exoelsis . " The youth turned his head to catch the sound as it floated up on its Heavenward journey . " It is Yuletide , " he murmured , faintl y ; then pointing to a spark that still flickered amid the ashes of the expiring watch-fire , —his wan , white face beaming with the brihtness of a proud sweet smile—he raised himself slihtland
g , gy , exclaimed , " I vowed not to let the fire be quenched till the last spark of mine own life had faded also . See ! I have kept my word . I die for my country and King Alfred . " Exhausted with this effort , Leofwine fell backward into the arms of his father . " It is gone now—cpiite gone , " he whispered ; and as the little spark vanished , the spirit of the speaker passed away .
For awhile there was silence ; the monk covered his face with his flowing robe ; the rough soldiers turned away to hide the feelings they were ashamed to shew . Denewulf alone knelt b y the dead boy , like one in a dream . He parted the shining locks from the pale brow , and gazed at the burnt and wounded hands that still grasped the broken handle of the battle-axe . " Poor boy , ancl was it for this I sent thee hither ? " he murmured to himself ; " Alas ! my child , my only child ! " and then for awhile the father bowed his head beneath the
weight of a woe too deep for words . The holy hymn still swelled sweet ancl clear through the wintry air , ancl an enduring smile rested on the features of the dead Saxon , whilst the sunbeams hovered warm ancl golden around him , like a glorious halo . At last Denewulf arose , as if angry with his own weakness . " Hehath died as I would have had him die , " said tho old soldier , solemnly . " It is well , let him be laid honourabl y in his grave . "
Leofwine was borne to his burial with all the martial honours that the Saxons were wont to bestow upon their departed chieftains ; his soldier ' s cloak formed his shroud , and his bier , carried on the shoulders of four stalwart warriors , was followed b y a long file of his comrades from the castle , whose bowed heads , dejected mien , ancl drooping spears , gave token of the sorrow and respect they felt , for young Leofwine had been beloved by all the Kentish men-at-arms .
And so the true-hearted Saxon youth was laid to his rest in the little God ' s Acre attached to the church of St . Mary-in-Castro , close by the scene of his noble deed on the Beacon-tower ; ancl the maidens of Dover wept and strewed flowers over his grave , the stern warriors standing round with glistening eyes as they paid the last honours to him they had loveel ancl lost . As for Red Sweyn , the traitor , his corpse was cast into the sea , to be tossed hither and thither by the waves .