But we sent Erpwald back to Glastonbury in all haste, and he was in nowise loth to go, as may be supposed.  One may also guess how he was received there.  Then, as soon as Ina came back with us all, the ealdorman set to work to prepare afresh the wedding that was so strangely and suddenly broken in upon, and it was likely to be little less joyous that it had been so.

On the evening before the wedding the ealdorman came to me, when the day’s duties were over, and said that Elfrida wished to speak to me.  So I went, of course, not at all troubling that the ealdorman could not tell me what was to be said, for there were many things concerning tomorrow’s arrangements with which I was charged in one way or another.

So I found her waiting me alone, in that chamber off the hall where her father and I spoke of the poisoning.

“I have not sent for you for nothing, Oswald,” she said, blushing a little as if it were a hard matter she had to speak of.  “There is somewhat on my mind that I must needs disburden.”

“Open confession is good,” I said, laughing—­“what is it?

“Well—­have you forgotten your vow of last Yuletide?”

“Not in the least.  Would you have me do so?  For that were somewhat hard.”

“No—­but yes, in a way.”

There she stopped for a moment, and I waited for her to go on, not having any very clear notion of what was to come.  She turned away from me somewhat, letting her fingers play over one of the tall horns on the table, when she spoke again.

“It has been in my mind that you—­that maybe you thought that I have been hard on you—­in ways, since we spoke in the orchard.”

So that was what troubled her, but I did not see why she should have spoken of it, seeing that a lady has no need at all to justify her ways in such a matter, surely.

“No,” I answered, “that I never thought.  If my vow displeased you, or maybe rather if I displeased you thereafter, I had no reason to blame any one but myself for the way in which it was needful that I should be shewn that so it was.  It was just the best thing for me, for it cured me of divers kinds of foolishnesses.”

“That is what I would have heard you say,” she said with a light-hearted laugh enough, while her face cleared.  “Now I can say what I will.  Do you know that you have kept your vow to the full already?”

“Not at all.  There are long years before you yet, as one may hope.”

“Ay, Oswald, and through you those years seem bright to look forward to.  See, through you has come Erpwald, and now you have kept his life for me at risk of your own.  All my life long I shall thank you for those two things.  Surely your vow is fulfilled, for this will be lifelong service.  There is more that I would say to you, but I cannot.”

She turned away again, weeping for very happiness, as I think, that could not be told, and I had no word to speak that was worth uttering, though I must say somewhat.