The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 1, 1905, Page 2

i This is the first instaliment of “The Brethren,” H. Rider Hag- . Nir. Haggard gard’s latest work. needs no introduction. “She,” “Allan Quartermain,” “King Solomon’s Mines” and a -dozen other équally absorbing romances have made his namé a household word. In the presenit novel the Author.lias’ dlmosi "entirely’ departed from the weird, imaginative sénsationalism of his earlier books and has devoted himself: to-thé tools of the wilter ofthe legitimate histori- cal povel. In “The Brethren” Mr. a master of the modern historical Following “The Brethren”. will appear “The Castawa lie' Erminie Rives, to ‘bc fql‘ld‘\ved Beaucaire,” Haggard uas stauped himself as | romance, ' T by Hal- by Booth' Tarkington's “Monsicur e, Philyps & Co. ALopyright, 1004, Dy Author’s Note, a- [Standing & while ago upen the flower-clad plaln above Tiberfus. by the Lake af Galille . the writer gated at’ the double jeas of ik Hiil of Hattin. Here; or s dition #a¥s, mount— Christ preached the sermon cn the that perfect rule. of Here, too—and this is ce twelve centuries had gone by, ed-din, whom we know as the Suita crushed -the Christian powey .in Palestine - -n perhaps the most terrible battle which lnz( land, of blood has known, and the !\lo\ml‘o the Beatifudes became the Mount of Mass A4 re. Tt was while musing on these wirangely coa- trasted scenes enacted In one place :l}lflt“xhe;i in his mind a desire to weave, bea B taigne e (alé wherein any who Ate drawn to the romance of that pre and m:-s'l rious, s, when. e by thousands. were. ¥lad to jay down their lives for visions' and sp\nlx{n; o1 ‘however faint an hopes, could find.a plcture, eserts, Of Christiah knights and a S hatr Joves and_suterings In Engiand and the Fast; of the fearful lord .of the Assaselns whom the Franks called Old Man the “Moustain, and his fortress city, Masyat{ of the great-hearted. If at- times criel, Saladin s s; of the rout of Hatt B o hoss. Tocay halght the -Holy Rood dard and captured, to be seen no mor, other matterk, the Crusaders lost Jerusalem forever. 'Of, that desire this story.ls the fruit] PROLOGUE: ALAH-ED-DIN, Commander . of the Faithful, the King strong.to aid, Sovereign of ‘the East, sat at night in hig palace at Damuscus and brooded or the ionderful wuys of God, by whom ‘he had been lifted to his high estate. He. refem- bered how, when he wag but small in the eyes of men, Nour-ed-din, King of Syria, forced him to accompany his un- cle, Shirkub, to Egypt, whitlier he went,. “like one driven to his death,”and how, against his, own wil, there he argse to greatness. ‘He thought:ef his_father,. the wise Ayoub, gnd .the brethren with who he was bropght .up, .ail of ‘them dead now. save one; and,of his sisters, “whom he had cherished. Most vf ali did “he think.of her, Zobeide, who had been _stolen .away by the kaight whom she loved even to the loss of her own soul— the English friend-of his youth, J&1"8.. ptisoner, ; Apdrew D'Arcy, 'who, led . astray passion, had done him-and his house this griev- ous wrong. %ie had sworn, he remem- bered, that he. would 'bring:.her back - even from England, and already had planned to kill her husband .and cap- ture her when he learned her death. She had Jeft a child, or so his spies toid him, who, ¥ she still lived, must be a woman. now—his own niece, though half:of ngble English blood. - Then his mind wandered from this o0ld; half-forgotten story of the woe dnd blood in which his days: were set; and to the last great struggle betiween the followers of the prophets Jesus and Mohamet, that ‘*Jibad ‘for which- he made ready—and he sighed. For he was a merciful anan, who loved not: slapghter, although his "fierce faith drove him om from war to war. . Salah-ed-din slept and dreamed ' of peace. In his dream a maiden stood before him, and when she lift:d her veil, he saw that she was ‘- beautiful, with features .like his own, but fairer, and knew her surely for the daughter of his own sister Who had ‘fled with the: English knight. - Now he wondered why she visited him thus, and 1n his vision prayed-Allah to make the mat- \ ter clearer. Then suddenly he saw this same woman standing before him on a Syrian plain, and on either side of -her a countless host of Saracens:' and Franks, of whom thousands and tens of thousands were appointed to death. Lo! he, Salah-ed-din, charged at .the headl -of his squadrons; scimitar .aloft, but she held up: her .hahd ‘and stayed him. i) figess ,“What de you' here, my niece? “I am come to save the lives of men through you,” she .afiswered; “and therefore was.I born of your biood, and therefore I.am gent to you. Put. up - your sword, King, and spare thém.” “‘Say, malden, what ransom do-you. bring to buy this multitude from doom? What ransom and what gift?" “The ransom of my own blood, free-.. 1y offered, and heaven's' gift of peace to your sinful soul, O King.” : -~ Then with that outstretched hahd she drew down his keen-edged scimitar and it rested upon her breast. Salah-ed-din awoke and marveled on his dream, but said nothing of it to any man. The next. night it returned-to him, and the memory of ‘it went with him all‘the day fthat followed, but still he sald nothing. » ‘When on the t" "~d night he dreamed it yet agalm, even more 1dly. then. he was sure that this thing was from God, and summoned his holy Imauns and his Diviners, and took counsel with them. These, after. they had listened, prayed and consulted, spoke thus: -, “O Sultan, Allah has warned you in shadows that the woman, your niece, wko dwells far away in England, shall by her own nobleness and sacrifice. in some time to come, sdve .you from lmd!n‘ 8 sea of blood, and. bring rest ul the land. We charge you, there- fore, draw . this lady to.your court and keep her ever by your side, since if ‘l‘he escapes you, her peace goes with er. 3 t Salah.ed-din said that this. interpre- tation was wise and true, for thusg also he had read his dream. Then he sum- Ronéd 2 cefllmmlnl’n k:a;lhl Who hore ¢ Croés upon his breast, but in secret hag acumgg the Koran r =py of his, who came from that coun- try where dwelt the ma:deén, hi and from him lsarned about her, her father and her homé.. With another spy W ristian Hassin, mos ted his &ntn. he made a bla f:: the capture of the malden if she would not come willingly, and for her ‘bearing :,w;y o’fa:ln::.e'n her lv".l?mfil o “t‘:: rag worthy of her high hl%:dn and ’g'ttt—hy *Holy war. Jhe ~‘away in:England, and* ent- of: her rank. Her hé -commanded - _capta .mund, dark haired and eyed, ced.’ * mund, speak first. his decree He created her,.the niece ..whom he hed never seen, Princess of Baalbec; with great-possessions—a rule that. herfgrandtather, Ayoub, and her uncle, ;I#7eddin, «kad heid before her. Also he purchased a stout galley of war, mannipg ‘it with proved sailors and’ with chosen.men at arms, under the eommand -of the Prince ~Hassan. and wrote a letter to the ¥nglish Lord, Sir Andrew: I'Arcy, and his. daughter, and preparéd a royal gift of Jewels, and sent. them. to- the lad T f ith ‘it the pat- this company te-win by pedce, or force, -or -fraud, as best-they might, but that without her. not. one:of -them- should dare to Jook upor his face ‘again. with ‘these” he sent the.tywo Frankish o ‘knew the place where the , ‘one qaf svhom; the false was a skilled mariner and the n.of the-ship. % 2 _These things did Yisuf Salah-ed-din. and. waited' patiently. till- it should wrod which God had filled his. soul in CHAPT! I By the Waters of Death Creek. From the seawall on the coast of Essex Kosamund looked out across the ocean eastward. . To right and left, but a’little .behind her, like guards attend- ing-the person of their sovereign, stood her cousins, the twin brethren, God- wih and Wulf, tall_and shapely men. . Godwin'was still as a statue, his hahds folded ¢ver the hilt of the long ‘scab- barded sword, of -which the point was set on-the ground before him, but Wuit, his brother, moved -restlessly, and at length yawned aloud. They were beau- tiful to look at, all three of them, as they appeared in the splendor of’ their youth and health. The imperial Rosa- ivory Skinned and slender waisted, a posy of marsh’ Mawers in her hand; the pale, stately- - Godwin, 'with “his dreaming face; ‘and the bold-fronted warrior, Walf, Saxon 'to his tinger tips, notwith- standing his father's Norman blood: At the- sound of that unstified vawn Rosamund- turned. her Head . with « the _slaw, grace. whieh :marked her every movement. e “Would yon sleep already, ‘Wulf..and the sun-.not.yet down?” she asked in her rich, low voice,' which, perhaps be- catise. of its- foreigm acceint, . seemed quite different to that of -any. other woinan. . -l-° “I think so, Resamund,” he answer- “It -would serve to pass the time, and now that.you have finished gath- ering- those yellow flowers which = wo rade so far to seek, the time—is some- what long.” “Shame ox you, Wulf,”” she said, ‘smiling. 00k upon yonder -sea’and sky, at that sheet of bloom all gold and purple—"' 3 “I have looked for hard .on_ half an hour, cousin Rosamund; also at your back, and at Godwin's -left .arm . and side face; till in truth I thought my- self kneeling in Stangate Priory star- ing at my father’s effigy upon his tomb, while Prior John -pattered the mass. Why, If you stood’ it on its fdet, it is Godwin, the same crossed hands rest- ing on the sword, the same cold, silent face staring at the sky.” “‘Godwin as. Gedwin will no doubt .one day be, or sq he hopes—that, {s, if the saints.give him grace to do such deeds as did our sire,” interrupted, his brother, : . " . Wiilf looked at him and a curious flash of inspiration shone in his biue eyes. 5% “No, I think not,” he answered: “the deeds, you may do, and greater,{ but surely you will lie wrapped not'in a .shirt of malil, but with a monk’s cowl at the last—unless a woman robf’ you of it and the quickest road to heaven. Tell me now,” what are you thinking of, you two—for I have béen wondering in my dull way, and am curious to learn how far I stand from truth? Rosa- Nay, not all’ the truth—a maid’s thoughts are hér ‘own, but .just the cream of it, that which rises to the top and can be skimmed.” .Rosamund sighed. * “I1?° I was thinking of "the East, where ‘the sun shines ever and the seas are blue as my girdle stones, .and men are fall of strangé learning—’ “And women are men's slaves!” in- terrupted Wulf. “Still it is natural that you'should think of the East-who have that blood _in ‘your veins, and high" blood, if all tales be true. 'Say, Prin- cess”—and he bowed the 'knee to her with an affectation of mockery which could not hide his earnest reverence— “say, Princess, my cousin, grand- daughter of Ayoub and niece “'of the mighty monarch, Yusuf Salah-ed-din. do you wish to leave this pale land ‘and visit your .dominions in- Egypt.-gnd in Syria?’ _ . ¥ She listened, and at his words her eyes ‘seemed ‘to take fire;- the stately form to erect itself, the breast to heave and the thin nostrils to grow wider as though. they scented some sweet. re- mem - perfume. Indeed. at that moment, standing there on the promon- tory above the seas, Rosamund looked .. a very queen. . Presently she answered him with gn- ather question. 2 p “And how would ' they. greet me there, Wulf, who am a Norman d'Arcy and a Christian maid?” “The ‘first they -would forgive you, since that blood ‘is none so il “either, l:d ftgrq the second—why, faiths can be changed.” . - . ° Then it was that Godwin spoke for the first time. Y 5 "w’\lm.' Wulf,”" hte said qterul;, “keep watch upon your tongue, for there ‘are things that should not be ‘said e as a silly See’ you, I love my :gn-ln here better than aught else upon - 4 w‘"ll'?er;. at least, we.agree,” broke in olatea Godwint - but By the': Hely el S n; “bui ly Blood dnd by St. Peter, e we stand, T would kil her by my.own nd ° to_accomplish the, vision hand before her lips kissed the book of the false prophet.” “Or any. of his followers,” muttered ‘Wulf to himself, but fortunately, per- haps, too low for either of his com- panions to hear. Aloud he said. “You understand, Rosamund, you must be careful, for Godwin ever keeps his word, and that would be but a poor end for so much birth and beauty and wis- dom.” “Oh, cease mocking, Wulf,” she an- swered, 1aying her hand lightly on the tunic that hid ‘his shirt of mall. “Cease mocking and pray St. Chad, the build- er of this shrine, that no such dreadful choice ' may ever be forced uvon vou. or me, or your beloved brother—who, indeed, in such a case would do right to_slay me.” ““Well, if it were,” answered Wulf, and his falr face flushed as he spoke, “I trust that we should know how to meet 'it. After all, is it so very hard to choose between death and duty?" . ¥1.know not,” she replied; “but oft- times sacrifice seems easy when seen from far away; also, sometimes things may be lpst that are more prized than ‘'What things? Do you mean place or ‘wealth, or—love?” “Tell mi her tone, “what is that boat rowing round the river's mouth? A while agn it hung upon its oars as though those ‘within it wunlpd us.” “Fisher-folk,” answered Wulf' care- léssly. “I saw. thelr nets.” “Yes; but beneath them something gleamed bright, like swords.” “Fish,” sald Wulf; “we are at peace in Essex.” Although Roeamund did niot look convinced, he went, on, “Now for ' Godwin’s" thoughts—what were they?” sald Rosamund, thanging . “Brother, if yowvould know, of the Bast also—the East and its holy wars." “Which have brought us no great luck,” answered Wulf, “seeing that our sire was slain in them and naught of him came home again save his heart, which liés at Stangate yonder.” “How better could he dle,” asked Godwin, “than fighting for the Cross of Christ? Is not that death of his at Harenc told of to this day? By our Lady, I pray for one but half as glo- rious!"” “Aye, he died well, he died well,” sdid ‘Wulf, his blue eyes flashing and his hand creeping to his sword hilt. “‘But, brother, there is peace at Jerusalem, as in Essex.” “Peace? Yes; but scon there will be war again. The monk Peter, he whom we saw at Stangate last Sunday, and who left Syria but six months gone— told me that it was coming fast. Even now the Sultan Saladin, sitting at Da- mascus, summons his hosts from far and wide, while his priests preach bat- tle among the tribes and barons of the East. And when it comes, my brother, shall we not be there to share it, as were our grandfather, our father, uncle, and so many of our kin? § we rot here in this dull land, as by our uncle’s wish we have done these many years, yes, ever since we were home from the Scottish war, and count the kine and plow the fields like peasants, while our peers are charging on the pa- gans, and the banmers wave and the blood runs red upon the holy sands of Palestine?” ; ~ Now it was Wulf's turn to take fire. “By our Lady in Heaven, and our Jady here!"—and he looked at Rosa- mund, who was watching the pair of with you, and as our birth was one birth, so, if it is decreed, let our death be one death.” And suddenly the hand that had been playing with the sword- hilt gripped it fast, and tore the long, lean blade from its scabbard and-cast it high into the air, flashing in the sun- light, to cateh it as it fell again, while in a voice that caused the wild fowl to rise in thunder from the Saltings be- neath Wulf shouted the old war ery that had rung on o many a fleld—"“A D’Arcy! a D’Arcy! Meet D'Arcy, meet Death!” Then he sheathed his sword again and added in a shamed voice, “Are we children that we fight where ne foe is? Still, brother, may we find him soon!" L Godwin smiled grimly, but answered TOthing joly Bomehnnd saiq: “So, my cousins, yor would be away, perhaps to return nu more, and that would part us. But”—and her volce broke somewhat—"such is the woman's lot, since men like you ever love the bare sword best of all, nor should I think well of you were it otherwise. Yet, cousins, T know not why”—and she shivered a little—"it comes into my heart that heaven often answers such prayers swiftly. .Oh, Wuli, your swerd looked very red in the sunlight. but now; I saw that it looked very red in the sunlight. I am afraid—of I know not what. Well, we must be going, for we haye nine miles to ride, and the dark is not so far away. But first; my come with me Intc this holy ace, and let us pray St. Peter and St. Chad to gua~d us on our journey home.” ¥ 3 —our 1‘:urney!" said Wulf anxiously. nine.milé ridé along the shores of the rater ?7”” ~ them with her quiet thoughtful eyes< Black: “go when you will,, brother, and I ga W “I sald our journey home, Wult; and there for you to fear in a the home is not in the hall at Steeple, but yonder,” and she pointed to the quiet. brooding sky. “Well sald,” answered Godwin, “in this ancient place. whence so many have journeyed home; all the Romans who are dead, when it was their for- tress, and the Saxon who came- after them, and others without count.” Then they turned ‘and eénter¢d the old church—ore of the first thal ever was in Britain, rough-built of Roman stone by the very hands'of Chad, the Saxon saint, more than 500 years be- fore their day. Here they knelt a while at ‘the rude-altar-and prayed. each of them in hisi or her own fashion, then crossed themselves, and rose to seek their horses, which were tied in the shed hard by. Now there were two roads, or rather tracks, back to the Hall at Steeple— one a mile or o inland, that ran through the village of Bradwell; and the other, the shorter way, along the edge of. the Saltings to the narrow water known as Death Creek, at the head of which the traveler to Hteeple must strike inlapnd, leaving the Priory of Stangate 'on his right.” It was this latter path they choose, since at low fise the going there is good for horses —which, even in the summer, that of the inland track was not. Also they wished to be at home by supper time, lest the old knight, Sir Andrew D'Arcy, the father of Rosamund and the uncle of the orphan brethren,. should grow anxious, and perhaps, come out to seek them. For the half of an hour or more they rode along the edge of the Saltings, for Thost Yart fn’ silence, that was broken only by the cry of curlew and the lap of the turning tide. No human being did they see, indeed, for this place ¥ was very desolate and unvisited, save now and again by fishermen, At length, Just as the sun began to sink, they apbroached the shore of Death Creek-= & sheet of «dal water which ran a mile or more inland, growing ever naj rower, but ‘was here some 300 yards in breadth. They were well mounted, all three of them. Indeed,” Rosamund's horse, a great gray, her father’s glft to her, was famous in that country-side for its swiftness and power, also be- cause it was so docile that a child could ride it; While those of the brethren were heavy-built but well trained war steeds, taught to stand when they were left, and to charge when they were urged, without fear of shouting men or flashing steel. Now the ground lay thus. ‘Some sey- enty yards from the shore of the creek &nd parallel to it a tongue of land, covered with scrub and a few oaks, ran down Into the Saltings, its point end- ing on their path, beyond which were a swamp and a broad river. Between this tongue and the shore of the créek the track wended its way to the up= lands. It was an ancient track: indeed the reason of its existence ivas that here the Romans or some other lohg dead hands' had bullt a narrow mole or quay of rough stone, forty or fifty yards in length, out into the water of the creek, doubtless to serve as a con- venjence for fisher boats, which could lie alongside of it even at low tide. This mole had been much destroyed by cen- turies of washing, so that the end of It lay below water, aithough the land- ward part was still almost sound and level. Coming over the little rise at the tip of the wooded tongue, the quick eyes of Wulf, who rode first—for hére the path along the border of the swamp was so narrow that they must go In single file—caught sight of a large empty boat moored to an iron ring sét in the wall of the mole. “Your fishermen have landed, Roga- mund,” he said, “and doubtless gone up to Bradwell. “That is strange,” she added, anx- iously, *“since here no fishermen ever come.” . And she checked her horse as though to turn. “Whether they come or not, certainly they have gone,” sald Godwin, craning forward to look about him; as we have nothing to fear from an empty boat, let us push on.” On they rode accordingly until they came to the root of the stone quay or pler, when a sound behind them caused them to look baclk, Then they saw a sight that sent the blood to their hearts, for there behind them, leaping down one by one on that narrow footway, were men armed with naked swords, six or eight of them, all of whom, they noted, had strips of linen pierced with eyelet holes tied beneath fheir helms or’leather caps, so as to cgnceal their faces, 1 “A snare! a snare!” fed - 'Wulf, drawing his sword. = “Swift] follow me up the Bradwell path,” and he struck the spurs into his' horse. It bounded forward, to be dragged xt second with all the weight of his x\\ erful arm almost to its haunches. = “God’s mer- ey!” he . cried, ‘“there age more of them!”” ‘And more there were, for an- Gther band of men armed,and linen- hooded :like the first, had isaped down to that Bradweil-path, amwahg them o stout max, who seemed toiB: unarmed, except for a long crooked knife at his girdle and a coat of ringed ymail, which showed through the opening of his lcose tunie, “To the whereat boat,” shouted Godwin, the stout man laughed—a light, penetrating laugh, which even then all three of them heard and noted. Along the quay they rode, since there was nowhere else that they could go, with both paths barred, and swamp and water on one, side of them, and.a steep wooded bank upon the . other. When they redched it, they found why the man had laughed, for the boat was made fast with a strong chain that could not be cut; more, her sail and oars were gone. “‘Get into it,” mocked a voice; “or, at least, let the lady get in; it will save us the trouble of carrying her there.” Now Rosamund turned very pale, while the face of Wulf went red and white, and he gripped his sword-hilt. But Godwin, calm as_éver, rode for- ward a few paces;, and said quietly: “Of your courtesy, say what you need of us. If it be money, we have none—nothing but our arms and.horaes, which I think may cost you dear.” the man with the crooked knife advanced a little, accompanied by an~ other.man, a tall, supple looking knave, into whose ear he whispered. My master says,” answered the tall man, “that you have with you that which is of more value than all the king’s gold—a very fair lady, of whom some one has urgent need. Give her up now, and go your way with your arms and horses, for you are gallint men, whose blood we do not wish th shed.” At this it was the turn of the breth- ren to Jaugh, which both of them did together. “Give her up,” answered - Godwin, “and go our . w » s dishonored? Ave, with our breath, but mot before. JVho has then such urgent need of the ly Rosamund 2" g Again there was the pair. “My master says,”’ wag the answer, “he thinks that all who see ler will have nced for her, sinee such loyeli< ness is rare. But if you,wish 4 name, well, one comes into his mifd; the name of the Knight Lozelle!" “The Knight Lozelle!” m: ured Rosamiind, furning even paler than before, as well she might. For this Lozelle, was a powerful man and Essex-born. He owned ships of whos doings upon the seas and in the East evil tales were told, and once had sought Rosamund's hand in mrrur but being rejected, uttered threats for which Godwin, as the elder of the twins, had fought and wounded him Then he vanished—none knew “Is' Sir Hugh Lozelle here*thén asked Godwin, “masked like you com- mon cowards? If so, I desire to méer him, to finish the work I begas snow last Christmas twelnnm'u.#: “Pind that out Iif you ‘ecan, - But ‘Wulf sald, clenched swered the tall man. speaking low betweem his teeth: - “Brother, I see but one chance, W must place Rosamund betwesn us charge them.” % The cantain of the band seeraed to read their thoughts, for in e whigpered into the ear of his com- panion, who again called out: “My master says that If you try tn charge you will be fools, since we shall stab and hamstring your horses which are too good to waste, and tak: you quite easily as you fall. Come. then, yleld as you can do without shame, seeing that there is no esgape and that two men, however brave, cannot stand against a crowd. He gives vou one minute to surrender.” Now Rosamund spoke for the first time, A ¢ My cousins,” she said, “T y you not toTet me fall MVing thto the hands of Sir Hugh Lozelle or of yonder men, ; | biwike! el