“Faith, master, I know not.  I have slept well,” he said.

Now by this time it seemed to me that I ought to take the lady into a safe place, and I would go myself rather than leave her to the fisherman, who was rough, and hated the Danes heartily, as I knew.  Moreover, I had a new plan in my head which pleased me mightily.  Then I thought that if I were to meet any man who suspected me, which was not likely, the Lady Thora would be pass enough for me.  So I told Kolgrim to bide here for me, and he said at first that he must be with me.  However, I made him stay against his will at last, telling him what I thought.

Then the fisher put us across quickly, and went back to the far side to wait my return.

I asked Thora where I must take her to find the jarl.

“To his house, surely,” she said.

“I do not know the way from here,” I answered; “I fear you must lead me.”

“As you will,” she said, wondering.  “It is across the town certainly.”

That was bad for me, perhaps, but I should find that out presently.  So we went across the open, and came to the road through the town along which I had been before.  It was clearer, though there were yet many people about.

Now when we were in the shadow of the first houses, Thora stopped suddenly and looked hard at me.

“Will you tell me if I am heading you into danger?” she said.

“What danger is possible?” I answered.  “There are no Saxons here yet.”

“Not one?” she said meaningly.  “I may be wrong—­it does seem unlikely but I think you do not belong to us.  Your speech is not like ours altogether, and your helm is gold encircled, as if you were a king.”

“Lady,” I said, “why should you think that I am not of your people?  Let us go on to the jarl.”

“Now I know that you are not.  Oh, how shall I thank you for this?”

Then she glanced at my helm again, and drew a sudden little quick breath.

“Is it possible that you are Alfred of Wessex?  It were like what they say of him to do as you have done for a friendless maiden.”

Then she caught my hand and held it in both of hers, looking half fearfully at me.

“Lady,” I said, “I am not King Alfred, nor would I be.  Come, let us hasten.”

“I will take you no further,” she said then.  “Now I am sure that you are of the Northmen that were seen with the Saxons.  You are not of us, and I shall lose you your life.”

Then came the quick trot of horses, and I saw a little troop coming down the street, their arms flashing in the streaks of moonlight between the houses.

“I will see you in good hands, Lady Thora,” I answered.  “Who are these coming?”

“It is my father,” she said, and drew me back deeper into shadow.

After the horsemen and beside them ran men who bore planks and ropes, and it was plain that the jarl had found out his loss, and hastened to bridge the gap and cross the river.