Ethelbert signed to me, Father Selred, and Sighard to follow him, and we went into his apartment, closing the door after us.  Out in the council chamber we left three of the Anglian thanes and three Mercian, who would act as guards for the night.

It was very pleasant in the silence of this cool chamber after the din and glare of the great hall.  The moonlight came in at the western window; and though there were torches ready, the king would not have us light them, for he said we would sit in the dim light awhile till he grew sleepy.  And so at first we spoke of the day’s hunting, and, of course, Sighard had his say on the matter of Gymbert’s carelessness.

Seeing that neither he nor the king had any doubt that carelessness it was, and naught else, I did not think it worth while to say anything of my own suspicions.  I do not think that they could have believed that any harm was meant me had I told of the arrow.  It seemed impossible, and if it were not that, it was a private matter of my own.

Presently that matter dropped, and there was a short silence.  I heard then the sounds of shuffling feet plainly enough from somewhere close at hand, and thought that the wall between us and the guest hall must be somewhat thinner than it would seem, so that the sound came through thence.  Sighard heard it also, and rose up quietly and looked into the inner chamber.

“What is it?” asked Ethelbert, as he came back and sat down again.

“Naught, lord.  I thought I heard footsteps in your bedchamber; but there is nothing there.  A strange house has strange sounds, and it takes time to get used to them.”

“Some one passing under the window,” said Selred the chaplain, laughing.

The little noise ceased, and we forgot it.  Today I can seem to hear it as if it had thundered in our ears, for I know what it was and what it meant.  Yet at the time there was no reason to think aught of it.

Then Ethelbert asked us somewhat which seemed strange.

“Have any of you noted aught in the look or way of King Offa which would make you think that he has not long to live?”

With one accord we said that we certainly had not done so, and that in some surprise.  Sighard asked plainly what had put such a thought into his head.

“I will tell you,” said Ethelbert in a low voice.  “Between ourselves, here it is of no use to pretend that one does not know the name for ambition which Quendritha the queen has.  Tell me what you make of this.  Today I had a little private speech with her, and she would have me put off the wedding.  She more than hinted that I might make a higher match, and that angered me.  Whereon she told me that Offa might not have long to live; that Mercia and East Anglia would be a mighty realm if united.  And, on my word, it seemed to me that she would bid me wait till she was a widow.”

He laughed uneasily, as if he thought himself foolish; but we knew that unless he had full reason for that belief he would not have told us.  That must have been a strange talk between this honest young king and Quendritha, if he deemed it best to speak to us of it.