“Ho, friends!  I am Redwald, your thane.  Will none come to greet me?”

There was no answer, and Olaf lifted up his clear voice: 

“Ho, Ethelred’s men! here is help against the Danes.”

Then from under the staging by the riverside where the boats land their cargo, crept two men and came towards us slowly.  And one was that thrall of mine who would have gone to Wormingford for me on the night when we fled.  His silver collar of thraldom was gone, for the Danes had taken it, and his face bore marks of long hardship, but I knew him instantly.  So I called him by name, and he stared at me fixedly for a moment, and then cried aloud and ran to me and fell to kissing my hand and weeping with joy at my return.  Nor could I get a word from him at first.

Then more of the people came from one place or another, timidly at first, but growing bold as they saw these two men without fear of us, and by the time that Olaf’s warriors came over the bridge there were not a few folk standing round us and looking on.  One by one I knew their faces, though years of pain had marked them sorely.  But none knew me at first, though doubtless they would do so if I called to them as I had called to Brand the thrall.

Now was busy setting of watches and ordering of outposts, and Olaf went with me to the top of our hill and there set a strong post of our men, for there could be no better place for a camp either for rest or defence, and the people told him that every Dane in the countryside had gone to Colchester, where they thought to be attacked.

Now Brand the thrall had followed us to the hilltop, and while I sat and looked at the ruins of my home he left me and spoke to a group of countrymen who looked on at the warriors.  There was one among this group whose face drew me, for I seemed to think that I ought to know him, though I could not say who he was.  He looked like a poor franklin in his rough brown jerkin and leather-gartered hose, and broad hat, and he bore no weapon but a short seax in his belt, and a quarterstaff, and there was nought about him to claim notice.  But I was watching for old friends of mine with a full heart, and scanned the face of each one that came near.

Then it seemed that the others spoke to this man with a sort of reverence, and presently one bared his head before him.  Thereat I knew who he was, and my heart leapt with joy, for it was good Father Ailwin, our priest, who had gone back to his death as we had thought.

Then I made haste and went to him, dismounting before him.

“Father,” I said, “have you forgotten Redwald, your pupil?”

He took my hand in silence, being too much moved to speak, and signed the sign of the cross towards me in token of blessing.  I bowed my head, and rejoiced that he was yet living.

Then Olaf called me, and I said: 

“When the warriors have dispersed, come to the house on the green that was Gurth’s.  The king and I shall be there.  We have much to say to one another, father.”