Then I said to old Thord, who sat over against me beyond Odda’s empty chair: 

“This is foolishness; or will he not honour the king’s guests?”

But a thane shook his head at me, whispering behind his hand: 

“It is humbleness.  He has put his rank from him, and will not be held as being above any man.”

Then spoke old Thord: 

“Maybe he can put his rank away among men who know him not, and that is a good humbleness in a way.  But where all know what his birth is, he has but to be humble and kind in ways and speech, and then men will think more thereof than they will if they see him pretending to be a churl.”

Now Thord’s voice was rough with long years of speaking against the wash of the waves, and the thunder of wind in sail and rigging, and the roll and creak of oars; and as he said this, every one turned towards him, for a silence had fallen on the crowd of folk who watched Neot the king’s cousin and his strife with Odda.

So Neot heard, and his face flushed a little, and he looked hard at Thord and smiled curiously, saying: 

“In good truth the old warrior is right, and I am foolish to hide here now I am known.  Let me go and sit by him.”

Then Odda led him to the upper end of the room, and every one rose as he passed by.  I drew myself nearer to the ealdorman’s place, and made room for him where only the table was between him and Thord, for that bench was full.

So he put his hand on my shoulder and sat down, looking over to Thord, and saying with a quiet smile: 

“Thanks for that word in season, friend.”

But the old warrior was somewhat ashamed, and did but shift in his seat uneasily.

“Ay, ay,” he growled; “I cannot keep my voice quiet.”

Neot laughed, and then turned to me and held out his hand for the king’s letter, which I gave him.

He ran his eyes over the writing very quickly, and then said: 

“Here is nothing private; shall I read aloud?”

But the thanes fell to talking quickly, and I nodded.

“Alfred the king to his cousin Ranald Vemundsson, greeting.  Odda the ealdorman of Devon, and one Godred, have spoken to me of yourself—­one telling of help given freely and without question of reward or bargain made, and the other of certain plain words spoken this morning.  Now I would fain see you, and since the said Godred seems to doubt if you will come to me, I ask it under my own hand thus.  For I have thanks to give both to you and your men, and also would ask you somewhat which it is my hope that you will not refuse me.  Therefore, my cousin, I would ask you to come with our ealdorman tomorrow and hear all I would say.”

Then Neot said,

“That is all.  I think you will not refuse so kindly an invitation.  The writing is the king’s own, and here is his name at the end.”

So he showed it me.  The letter was better written than the name, as it seemed to me.