Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 147: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CONRAD THE SAXON. Eadgar looked about him hopelessly, quite distracted. ‘“ Ah, what shall I do?” he moaned. “I am unmanned, good friends. I shall never lead you in the chase or to the wars again. My lieutenants are gone from me—Wald- her and Herwin, and I’m sadly alone. Why do you have this sudden lust for war? War brings us only death and devastation. Your wives and children are crying for bread and meat. Return to them and let those who live for war have it and die in their own manner. The Danes will prevail again, and yet again; each summer brings them on in swelling numbers, but till our land is wholly given over to them, let us cherish our homes and have such peace as is left to us.”’ ‘“ The Danes will of prevail!” cried Con- rad suddenly in an awful voice. ‘“ Your tongue, Eadgar, has caught the infirmity of your mind. This rich and noble land—this Britain, is Alfred’s land. No king in Christendom is fit to be cup bearer to our Saxon Alfred. He, of all men that my eyes have seen, is truly the anointed of God, and you are a heathen churl if you say that the pagan shall prevail over him. “ These are Saxon men—Alfred’s men!” he cried, lifting up his voice afresh, and sweeping his arm in an impressive gesture toward the staring soldiers. ‘‘ Who and what are you, Eadgar, to bid them go to the plow and the pigsty? Do you dare deny your king? Do you dare give orders thus to the king’s own men? “These men, I say, are Saxons, worthy of their sires, and they wait for their king that they may give him their service, their blood, and their lives, Alfred—royal Alfred waits in Athelney, and there these loyal subjects are marching, to join their brother Saxons under the royal banners.” The men waited for the last word of his stirring speech, and then they raised their voices in thunderous unison, cheering for the man, the white horse, and King Alfred. Eadgar shrank back as from a stormy blast. “But who will lead them?” he asked weakly. ‘ You, Conrad, are faring beyond the seas, not to return. And you are more Roman than Saxon, though you have a 621 brave heart and a love for your northern cousins.” “T shall not go overseas,” said Conrad, and glanced defiantly at the gaping Loris. ‘Sometimes one strain of blood flows stronger than another, and my heart beats faster and my pulses bound under these northern skies. Perhaps the answer is, that Tt am Jess Roman than Saxon! “You, in your sickness, say that this land is failing, but I see nothing but bright- ness in the skies, and God’s plenty bursting from the teeming soil. I’ll go with these men to lead them to their king, and Tl go with them when they march to meet the Dane. ““Come, Saxons,” he called. “Let us march on. Follow the white horse, as your sires did in their day. Ill be your leader, and if you are asked my name, say that I’m Conrad the Saxon, liegeman to Alfred the King.” — — — CHAPTER XVIII. ETHANDUNE. ONRAD and his men were marching through Wessex fields and meadows by night, and he was about to order a halt and make a camp, when a great light filled the northern sky, throwing the moon in shadow by its splendor and snuffing out the stars. The men were startled and they stood aghast, staring at the radiant spectacle and wondering greatly. It seemed to top the Wiltshire hills, and it flared and wavered like a giant’s torch, now dying down for a moment, now leaping up afresh and threatening the very zenith. As had come to be their habit, the men looked confidently to their leader for an explanation, and it was forthcoming. “That is Alfred’s beacon,” he said with firm conviction. ‘‘ He has summoned his thanes and their troops to the meeting place, and it was told that at the last he would light a mighty beacon on one of the highest hills, as a signal for the great mus- ter of all his men. The signal is lighted, and we are needed at the rallying point. Our legs are weary, but our hearts are COPMNIELOOOKS (E@)