It flashed across me that he might have found out who I was, however, and wanted to speak of the old trouble.

"Well," he said at last, growing yet redder, "the Lady Elfrida is angry that her name has been coupled with yours pretty much lately."

He stopped with a long breath, and I knew what he was driving at.

"She has told me as much herself already," I said solemnly.

He heaved a sigh of relief.

"But she did not tell me that," he said in a puzzled sort of way.

"Well, it must not go on, or--or else, that is, I shall have to see that it does not."

"The worst of it is that I cannot help it," said I. "Did the lady ask you to speak to me of the matter?"

"Why, no; she did not. Only, I thought that some one must. Of course, I mean that I will fight you if it goes on."

"Of course," I said. "But I can in no wise stop it. Do you know how it began?"

"Not altogether. How was it?"

"Really, that you had better ask some one else," I said, keeping a grave face. "I think that it would have been fairer to me to have done so first. But if there was any real blame to me, do you think that the ealdorman would have been glad to see me just now? I think that it was plain that he was so."

"I am an owl," Erpwald said. "Of course, he would not have been.

But did you come to see the ealdorman, or the lady?"

"Why, both of them, of course. I have known them for years."

He looked relieved when he heard that, and I thought that he must be badly smitten already.

"Well, I will go and ask the ealdorman all about it," he said.

"Where shall I find you in an hour's time?"

"In my quarters," I answered; "but, of course, if you want to fight me you will have to send a friend to talk to me."

"I will send the ealdorman himself."

"Best not, for he is the man who is charged with the stopping of these affairs if he hears of them. Any atheling you meet will help you in such a matter. It is an honour to be asked to do so. But don't ever ask me to be your second if you have another affair, for I also have to hinder these meetings if I can."

"Is there any one else I must not ask?" he said in a bewildered way.

"Best not ask the abbot," I said, and I could not help smiling.

"Now you are laughing at me, and that is too bad. How am I to know your court ways?"

"Well, you will not have to fight me unless you really want to pick a quarrel. So it does not matter. Get to the bottom of the question, and then come and talk it over, and we will see what is to be done."

He nodded and left me, and I had a good chuckle over the whole business. It was not likely that Elfrida had set him on me, in the least; but I suppose he had heard some jest of her father's, who was one of those who will work anything that pleases them to the last.

So I went my way, and saw to one or two things, and sat me down in the room off the hall that had been Owen's, and presently Erpwald came in, and I saw that he was in trouble.

"Well," I said, "how goes the quarrel?"

"I am a fool," he replied promptly. "The lady should be proud of the affair, and the more it is talked of the better she should like it. You are right in saying that it cannot be stopped. Why, there is a gleeman down the street this minute singing the deeds of Oswald and Elfrida. As for the vow you made, the ealdorman says that it could not have been better done. Forgive me for troubling you about it at all."

He held out his broad hand, and for a moment I hesitated about taking it. He bore his father's name, but in a flash it came to me that I was wrong. We were both children when the ill deed was wrought, and I was no heathen to hold a blood feud against all the family of the wrongdoer. He did not even know that one of us lived, and, as the king had told me, I knew that he was prepared to make amends.

So I took his hand frankly, and he had not noticed the moment's slowness or, if he did, took it for the pa.s.sing of vexation from my mind.

"You will laugh at me again," he said, "but now I am in hot water in all sooth. The lady will not speak to me at all."

I did laugh. I sat down on the edge of the table and tried to stop it, but his red face was so rueful that I could not, and at last he had to smile also.

"Why, what have you done?" I asked. "Now it is my turn to know reasons why. Here is a new offence to be seen into."

"I only told her that I had spoken to you on the subject, and was going to talk to the ealdorman, her father, if she would not save me the trouble by telling me herself all about it."

"And then?"

"She got up and went away, tossing her head, without a word. So I had a talk with the ealdorman, and learnt all; but after that I tried to see her, and that black-haired Welsh maiden of hers told me that she would not see me."

"It seems to me that you have had a bad day," I said. "But what does it matter? You have done what seemed right, and if it is taken in the wrong way you cannot help it."

"It does matter," he said. "If she is wroth with me, I don't mind telling you that I am fit to hang myself. Could you not set things right for me, somehow? You are an old friend."

"No, hardly; for I am not in favour there just now."

"Well, I shall go and try to get round the Welsh girl to speak for me."

Now, that was a servant I had never heard of, and I thought I knew all the household. So I could not tell him if that would be of use, and he left me in some sort of desperation to try what he could. He was very much in love.

Next day he came back beaming. Somehow the Welshwoman had managed things for him, and all was well again. I had my own thought that Elfrida was by no means unwilling to meet him halfway, but I did not say so. I think I had fairly got over my feelings by this time, but I must say that I felt a sort of half jealousy about it. But the more I came to look on the South Saxon's round face, and to think of him as Elfrida's favoured lover, the less I felt it. It became a jest to watch the going of the affair, and I was not the only one who found it so in a very short time.

Erpwald made no secret of his devotion. He minded me of a great faithful stupid dog, whose trust was boundless and whose love was worth having. One could lead him anywhere, but he was true Suss.e.x--he would not be driven an inch.

So Elfrida had a hopeless slave at her beck and call, and by and by I was on the old footing, and we used to make much of my vow of service to her.

"I would that I had made that vow," Erpwald said once.

"It is not too late now," answered the ealdorman, with his great laugh; "but I do not think it is needed."

After me went Erpwald when he was not at the ealdorman's, and Ina told me that he was glad to see that I harboured no thought of revenge.

"Presently you will want to go to Eastdean to see that your father's grave is well honoured, and this friendliness will help you," he said. "And for his friend such a man as Erpwald will do much. The church at Eastdean will be no poor one, and you will help him choose the place. We could not have asked him to do anything that has pleased him more."

One thing I feared was that when he found out who I was he would be ill at ease with me, and I asked the king to tell him in the way that seemed best to his wisdom, lest the knowledge should come by chance from some one else.

So he did that, and in a day or two Erpwald came to me and told me that he knew at last who I was, and we had a long talk together. It was in his mind to try to make me take the lands again, and I had hard work to make him believe that I was in earnest when I said that I did not want them. And at the end I made him happy by telling him that the king would let me go to Eastdean with him before long, so that we could see to things together.