“Thanks, Mother,” said I, with truth, for I saw that I might do this.  “This is help indeed.”

“Not so fast, young sir,” answered the crone; “Osric will not have you.”

“How know you that?”

“How does an old woman of ninety years know many things?  When you tell me that, I will say how I know that Osric will send you about your business; and that will be the best day’s work he ever did.”

Now I was nearly angry at that, for it seemed to set light store on my valour; but there seemed something more in the old woman’s tone than her taunting words would convey, so I said plainly: 

“Then shall I go to him?”

“Aye, fool, did I not tell you so?”

“But if it is no good?”

“Is it no good for a man who is accused of disloyalty to have witness that he wished, at least, to spend his life for his country?  Moreover, there is work for you to do which fighting will hinder for this turn—­ go to, Heregar, I will tell you no more.  Now do my bidding and go, and never will you forget that you helped an old witch with her burden.”

“Well, then, Mother,” I said, hooking up the mail tippet across my face, “if I must go down into the town, surely I will carry that bundle.”

“That shall you not,” she answered, dropping it again, and sitting down on it.  “Heregar the king’s thane—­the standard bearer—­shall bend to no humbler burden than the Dragon of Wessex.  Go; and Thor and Odin strike with you.”

And then she covered up her face, and would look no more at me.  I thought her crazed, maybe, but a sort of chill came over me as I heard her name the old heathen gods, and I thought of the Valas of old time, and knew how here and there some of the old worship lingered yet.

However, good advice had she given, showing me the way to try my fortune in the way I wished, and after that heathenish blessing I had no mind to stay longer, for such like are apt to prove unlucky; so I bid her good even, and went my way towards the town.  After all, I thought, king’s thane I was once, and may be again; and to bear the standard must be won by valour, so that, too, may come to pass.  Whereupon I remembered the badger that scared me in the moonlight, and was less confident in myself.

Many were the questions put me as I passed into the marketplace of Bridgwater, but I answered none, pushing on to where I saw Osric the Sheriff’s banner over a great house.  Mostly the men scoffed at me for thinking that I should win more renown in disguise; but some thought me a messenger, and clustered after me, to hear what they might.

When I came to the house door, where Osric lay, it was guarded, and the guards asked me my business.  I said I would see the sheriff and then they demanded name and errand.  Now, I could give neither, and was at a loss for a moment.  Then I said that I was one of the bearers of the war arrow, and though that was but a chance shot, as it were, it passed me in at once, for often a bearer would return to give account of some thane ill, or absent, or the like.