Then I said to myself: 

“Let things bide for a while.  When peace comes altogether and certainly, then will Ailwin bring back Hertha, and there will be trouble enough then, maybe.  As it is, my house must be rebuilt, and the land has to settle down after war.”

With that I set to work to gather the timber together from my own woods, that we might begin to build in the coming springtime, and I grew happy enough at that work, though I would that I worked for Uldra.

Then came the news that Eadmund our king was dead, slain by Streone’s men—­some say by the Earl’s son, others by the king’s own men, whom he bribed.  One will, I suppose, never know what hands did the deed, but Streone’s doing it was when all is told.

There is more in my mind about this than I will say.  But Thrand, who had been with me, begged that he might go to Colchester for a while; and I let him go, for he waxed restless, though I knew not what he would leave me for.

Then the kingdom was Cnut’s, and he spoke to the Wessex nobles at a great council in London in such wise that they hailed him for king.  There was naught else for them to do.  And he promised to keep the laws of Eadgar {15}, and to defend Holy Church, and to make no difference between Dane and Saxon, and by that time men knew that what Cnut the king promised that he would perform.

So came the strong hand that Ethelred our dying king had foretold, and sure and lasting peace lay fair before England.  Above all things that made for our content Cnut promised to send home his host.  Nor was it long before Jarl Eirik sailed away with all but those to whom lands had fallen.  There were many manors whose English lords had died, and they must own Danish masters.

And I will say this other word, that now at the time that I write of these things, men speak of English only, for Cnut has welded the races of England into one in such wise as has never been before.

So I mourned for Eadmund, and wrought at home-making until the springtime came, and all the while the thought of Uldra grew dearer to me, and I longed to seek her again.  And the thought of Hertha and my betrothal seemed as bondage to me.  Yet I would do nought till Ailwin came or till I could find him.  But none knew where he was.

I knew now that it was well that Hertha and I should not meet till all was broken off, for her I could not love, and she knew nought of me.  Yet for her sake I set the Wormingford thralls at work in the like manner as my own people were busied, that she might find withal to build her own house place afresh, when, if ever, she should return.

Now, one day as I stood watching the shaping of the timber for the first framing of my hall, Thrand came back.  He ran to me when he saw me, and cried: 

“Master all is avenged!  Streone the traitor is no more.”

I took him away to a quiet place, for this news was strange, and the thralls were listening wonderingly, and I asked him how this came about.