“Master Oswald,” he said, almost weeping, “how that man came in here I do not know.  I saw him not until he rose up.  None seem to have seen him enter, but men have so shifted their places that it seemed not strange to any near him that they had not seen him before.”

“Had you seen him you could not have turned him away,” I said.  “He came as a suppliant, and the king’s word is strict concerning such at these times.  Good Saxon enough he spoke, too, in the way of many of our half Welsh border thralls.  I do not think that you will be blamed.  Most likely he slipped in as the tables were cleared just now.  There was coming and going enough, and we have many strangers here.

“Who is the yellow-haired man?”

“A chapman from the town.  Some shipmaster whom the ealdorman knows.”

Now, after I was back in my place and the bustle was ended, there fell an uneasy silence, for men knew not if the feast was to go on.  Many of the ladies had gone, with the queen, and Elfrida was there no longer.  But Ina stood up with a fresh cup in his hand, and he smiled and said, while the eyes of all were on him: 

“Friends, we have seen a strange thing, but you have also seen the deeds of a brave maiden and a ready warrior to whom I am beholden for my life, as is plain enough.  Yet we will not let the wild ways of our western neighbours mar the keeping of our holy tide.  Maybe there is more to be learnt of the matter, but if so that can rest.  Think now only of these two brave ones, I pray you, for I have yet the Bragi bowl to drink, and it is not hard to say whom I should pledge therein.”

Then he looked round for Elfrida, not having noticed that she had gone with the queen.

“Why,” he said, “it was in my mind to pledge the lady first, but I fear she has been fain to leave us.  So I do not think that I can do better than pledge both my helpers together, and then Oswald can answer for the lady and himself at once.”

He rose and held the cup high, and I rose also, not quite sure if I were myself or some one else, with all the hall looking at me.

“Drinc hael to the lady Elfrida, bravest and fairest in all the land of Somerset!” he cried.  “Drinc hael, Oswald the king’s thane—­thane by right of ready and brave service just rendered!”

Then he drank with his eyes on me, and there went up a sort of cheer at his words, for men love to see any service rewarded on the spot if it may be so.  Now I was at a loss what to say, and the lady should have been here to bring the cup to me in all formality.  Maybe I should have stood there silent and somewhat foolish, but that the ealdorman, her father, helped me out.

“Come and do homage for the new rank, lad,” he said in a low voice.

He was at the lower table near me now, for the high table had been broken and the king stood alone on the dais.

So I went to the steps, and bent one knee at their top, and kissed the hand of the king, and then held out the hilt of my sword, that he might seem to take it and give it me again.  But he bade me rise, and so he took off his own sword, which was a wondrous one, and the token of the submission of some chief on the Welsh border beyond Avon, and he girt it on me with his own hands.