Now, how they treated us it needs not to be told, for it was in the way of a good Somerset franklin, and that is saying much.  But that night he would talk little, seeing that I and Wulfhere were overdone with want of sleep.  Indeed it was but the need of caution that had kept me from falling asleep on my horse more than once on the road.  So very soon they brought us skins and cloaks, and we stretched ourselves before the fire, and warmed, and cleansed, and well refreshed with food and drink, fell to sleep on the instant.

Yet not so soundly could I sleep at first, but that I woke once, thinking I heard the yells of the Danes close on us:  but it was some farmyard sound from without, and peaceful.

Then I slept again until, towards dawning I think, I awoke, shivering, and with a great untellable fear on me, and saw a tall, gray figure standing by my couch.  And I looked, and lo it was Matelgar the Thane.

Then I went to rouse Wulfhere, but my hand would not be stretched out, and the other men slept heavily, so that I lay still and looked in the dead thane’s face and grew calmer.

For his face was set with a look of sorrow such as I had never seen there, and he gazed steadfastly at me and I at him, and the grief in his face did but deepen.  And at last he spoke, and the voice was his own, and yet not his own.

“Heregar, sorely have I wronged you,” he said, “and my rest is troubled therefor.  Yet, when I heard what you had done for mine last night, my heart was sore within me, and I repented of all, and would surely have made amends.  And now it is too late, and my body lies dishonoured on Parret side while I am here.  Yet do you forgive, and mayhap I shall rest.”

Then I strove to speak, bidding him know that I forgave, but I could not, and he seemed to grow more sad, watching me yet.  And when I saw that, I made a great effort, and stretching my hand towards him signed the blessed sign in token that that should bid me forgive him, so leaving my hand outstretched towards him.

And then his face changed and grew brighter, and he took my hand in his, as I might see, though I could feel nought but a chill pass on it, as it were, and spoke again, saying: 

“It is well, and shall be, both with you and me.  And when you need me I shall stand by you once again and make amends.”

Then he was gone, and my hand fell from where his had been, and straightway I slept again in a dreamless sleep till Wulfhere roused me in the full morning light.

And in that light this matter seemed to me but a dream that had come to me.  Yet even as I should have wished to speak to Alswythe’s father, had I done, and I would not have had it otherwise.  Then the dream in a way comforted me, being good to think on, for I would not willingly be at enmity with any man, or living or dead.  But that it was only a dream seemed more sure, because in it Matelgar had said he knew of my saving Alswythe.  And Wulfhere and I had agreed not to tell him that.  Also I had little need of Matelgar living, in good truth, and surely less need of him now that he was gone past making amends.