"Aye, Father," said I, "that is a wondrous bell."

He nodded, and went on, with his eyes fixed on the monastery.

"That was the voice of the bell that sounded as we came," I thought; and even as I would have said it, the bell of Bosham spoke again, and the prior stopped with an exclamation, and pointed.

Out of the gateway came four Danes, bearing the bell between them, and as they crossed the threshold, one stumbled, and the bell clanged as they dropped it on the courtyard pavement. The tears ran down the holy man's face as he saw this mishap to his beloved bell, which was kept bright as when it was first founded, by the loving hands of his people.

Now the Danes put it on that farm cart I had seen, and which they had mended, and took the bell down to the wharf, and we watched them sling it to the crane they had rigged, and place it amidships on deck. Then they all went hastily on board, and put out into the haven, down which Halfden's ship was already a mile distant, and dancing on the quick waves of wind against tide where the waters broadened into a wide lake.

Now when the ship was fairly under way, the prior rose up from beside me, and lifting his hand, cursed ship and crew with so great and bitter a curse that I trembled and looked to see the ship founder at once, so terrible were his words.

Yet the ship held on her course, and the words seemed vain and wasted, though I know not so certainly that they were so. For this is what I saw when the ship met the waves of that wider stretch of water that Halfden had now crossed.

She pitched sharply, and there was a bright gleam of sunlight from the great bell's polished sides, and then another--and the ship listed over to starboard and a wave curled in foam over her gunwale. Then she righted again quickly, and as though relieved of some weight, yet when a heavier, crested roller came on her she rose to it hardly at all, and it broke on board her. And at that she sank like a stone, and I could hear the yell that her men gave come down the wind to me.

Then all the water was dotted with men for a little, and the bright red and white of her sail floated on the waves for a minute, and then all that was left of her were the masthead and yard--and on them a few men. The rest were gone, for they were in their mail, and might not swim. Only a few yet clung to floating oars and the like.

"Little have these heathen gained from Bosham," said the prior, and his eyes flashed with triumph. "Wilfrith the holy has punished their ill doing."

So, too, it seemed to me, and I thought to myself that the weight of that awesome curse had indeed fallen on the robbers.

Yet I know that, as I watched the ship in her trouble, in my own mind I had been going over what was amiss, as any seaman will, without thought of powers above. And I thought that the sharp pitching of the vessel had cast the great bell from amidships, where I had seen the Danes place it unsecured, against the frail gunwale, first to one side, and then, with greater force yet, against the other; so that it burst open gunwale and planking below, and already she was filling when the wave came and ended all. For these swift viking ships are built to take no heavy cargo, and planks and timbers are but bound together by roots and withies; so that as one stands on the deck one may feel it give and spring to the blow of a wave, and the ship is all the swifter. But though the outer planking is closely riveted together with good iron, that could not withstand the crashing weight of so great a bell when it was thus flung against it.

However that may have been--and thus I surely think it was--Bosham bell passed not into the power of the heathen, but destroyed them; and it lies at the bottom of the deepest reach of the haven whence the depth and swiftness of the tide will hardly let men bring it again. So I suppose that, profaned by heathen hands, it may no longer call men from across the water and woodland to the church of God.

Soon came the boats from Halfden's ship and picked up those who yet clung to what they might of the wreck, and then ship and Danes passed from Bosham haven, leaving the silent tower and burning village to mark where they had been.

Then the prior sighed, and turning away, said:

"Let us go to Chichester and find shelter. Night comes soon, and rest."

Sadly enough we went, though not for long: for when we came into the roadway from the forest land, the prior put his heavy thoughts aside, and spoke cheerfully to me.

"What is done is done; and but for you, my son, things would have been worse. And their greed for the bell has made them spare the church itself. Surely you must have fallen from the clouds to help us-- borne hither from the East Anglian land whose tongue bewrays you."

"I marvel that you trusted me," I said.

"I trusted your face, my son, and when one is in a hard case the first help is ever the best. Yet now I would fain know somewhat of my good comrade."

Now I think that to any but this monk, with his friendly smile and way of quiet authority, I should have been ashamed to own my part with the Danes. But a few hours of companionship in danger knit closer than many a long day of idleness together, and he seemed to me as a near friend. Moreover, he had trusted me without question; so I told him all my tale and he listened patiently.

"Now I am glad that I cursed not your friend's ship--for I forgot her," he said, smiling.

At that I was glad, for how he would hold my being with the heathen I somewhat doubted, and I told him so.

"Why, my son, I know not that you had much choice. And as for fighting against outlanders--let me heft that axe of yours."

He took it, and it fell into his hands in a way that told me that he, too, had been a stark fighting man at some time.

"Take it away, my son, take it away!" he cried, thrusting it back on me; "I am not the man to blame you. And I know that much good has come to us from your being with them. And from your talk about martyrs I know that you have done no honour to their gods."

I said truly that the question had never come into my mind. For, save as oath or war cry, the names of Thor and Odin were not heard. They sacrificed on going to sea, and on return; and meanwhile cared naught, so far as I knew, for none had questioned my faith.

He said it was well, and so talking we went on. And he said that, as friend of his, none would question me, so that I should find all I needed for my journey in the town. And when we came there--meeting the sheriff's ill-armed levy on the way--we went to the house of a great thane, and there were well and kindly received.

Yet once and again as I slept I dreamed and woke with the cry of Rorik's men in my ears, and before me the bell seemed to flash again as it crashed through the ship's side. And once I woke thinking that the smell of burning was round me, and felt, half awake, for the stone walls of the well chamber. But at last I slept soundly and peacefully.

CHAPTER V. HOW WULFRIC, LODBROK, AND BEORN HUNTED.

When morning came it was great wonder and joy to me to wake and find myself in England and free, for indeed I had begun to think of my comradeship with the Danes as a sort of thralldom that I knew not how to break. And now I longed to make my way back to Reedham as soon as I might, for I had been many weeks away, though I have said little of all that befell in that time beyond what was needful. One thing saved me from grief that might have been, and that was the knowledge that Ingild, the merchant, had not been told to look for my coming, and that none at home would wonder if I were long away, because of that plan of wintering our ship in the Thames. And I knew that not one of my poor crew could have lived to take news of the wreck.

That I must take back myself; and though I could not fairly be blamed for loss of ship and crew, the thought of having to break the tidings to those who would mourn for their lost ones was very hard to me. But it must be done, and there was an end.

Now came to me, as I thought of these things, my friend the Prior of Bosham, and he sat down beside me and asked how he could further my plans. He himself must go to Selsea, there to see the bishop and tell him all, not forgetting my part, as he said.

I told him that I only needed a horse, and that then I should ride to London, where I had friends: and he asked me if I had money wherewith to buy one, for he had none, else would he gladly do so for me. And that reminded me of the bag which Halfden gave me, and I opened it.

It was full of treasure--gold ornaments, and chains wherein were set precious stones, and some gold coins and silver, and these were the least value of all. But little pleasure had I in them, for I knew too well how they came, and a thought came to me.

"Father," I said, "this comes from ruined towns on yonder shore--take it and build up Bosham again. Aye, take it."

"Why, my son, here is treasure enough to build three villages like ours," he said quietly; "for timber houses cost but labour in this forest land, and there was naught else worth taking in the place."

"But your people are the poorer," I said; "I pray you take it for their need, and for a new bell, moreover."

And so I urged him till he took the greatest gold chain, saying that in honesty he could no more, for that would surely make Bosham wish for more burnings if they turned out as this.

"Keep the rest and buy a new ship," he said, "and forget not that always and every day your name will be remembered at the time of mass in Bosham; and that may help you in days to come."

So he blessed me and departed, and I think that both of us were light at heart, save for parting. And I have never seen the good prior again, though his face and words I cannot forget.

Soon came one to lead me to the presence of the thane and his wife, and from them I found kindness more than I could have looked for. We broke our fast together, and then the lady asked me if I would accept horse and gear for my journey from her, for she had heard from the prior that I had been shipwrecked, who had also told her all the story of our doings at Bosham.

Thanking her, I told her that though shipwrecked, I was yet rich, having a store of wealth with me; for I thought that it was in the minds of these kind people that I was in need.

"Be not proud," she said "bide with us for a while, and then take horse and go. We hold that you have deserved well of all of us."

But I told her of my mother and sister at home, and how I would fain be back with them, so she pitied me the more, saying that now for their sakes she would hasten me.

"Aye, lad," said the thane, "we have sons of our own at court, and the lady would that someone would pack them home on a good horse--so she must not be denied."

Thus they persuaded me, and when I tried to thank them, the thane laughed, and the lady said:

"Thank me not but in one way, and that is by asking your mother to help homeward some other lady's son when need is. And that is all I would wish."

And the end of it was that I rode away from Chichester town on a good horse and with change of clothes in saddlebags, and those worthy people stood at the gate to give me good speed.

Yet that is not the end, for there are one or two who have ridden in like sort from Reedham since that day, and have borne home the like message; so that I know not where the ending of that kindly deed may be.

Past the old Chichester walls I went, and out on the long line of the Roman street that should take me to London. And as I went I sang, for the green beechen woods were wondrous fair to me after the long weeks of changing sea, and it seemed to me that all was going well, so that I put away for the time the grievous thought of my shipwreck, the one hard thing that I must face when I came home again.

There is nothing to tell of that ride; for well armed, and rich, and with a good horse, what should there be? And at last I came to London town, and rode straightway to the great house of my godfather, Ingild, that stood by London Bridge. Very strange it was to me to look out over the Pool as I crossed, and not to see our good ship in her wonted place, for this was the first time I had come to London except in her.

At the door of the courtyard, round which Ingild had his great storehouses and sheds for goods, I drew rein, and two serving men whom I knew well came out. Yet they knew me not, staring at my arms and waiting for my commands.

So I spoke to them by name, and they started and then laughed, saying that they must be forgiven for not knowing me in my arms, for surely I had changed greatly since two years ago, when I was last with them.

It was the same when Ingild himself came out, ample robed and portly; for he gazed long at my helmed face, and then cried:

"Why, here is a marvel! Wulfric, my son, you have grown from boy to man since last we met; and you come in helm and mail shirt and on horseback, instead of in blue homespun and fur cap, with an oar blister on either hand. How is this?"

Then he kissed me on both cheeks and led me in, running on thus till a good meal was before me, with a horn of his mighty ale; and then he let me be in peace for a little while.

Afterwards, as we sat alone together, I told him all that had befallen, even as I would have told my father, for in my mind Ingild, my godfather, came next to him and our king, and I loved him well.

Sorely he grieved for loss of ship and goods and men, but he told me that we were not the only seamen who had been hurt by that sudden gale. Nor did he blame me at all, knowing that Kenulf was in truth the commander of our ship. Rather was he glad that it had chanced that I had left her and so was safe.

Then when I told him of my turning viking thereafter, he laughed grimly, with a glitter of his eye, saying that he would surely have done the same at my age--aye, and any young man in all England likewise, were he worth aught.

So when I had told him all about my journey, I showed him the bag that Halfden gave me, and well he knew the value of the treasure therein.

"Why, son Wulfric," he cried; "here is wealth enough to buy a new ship withal, as times go!"

And I would have him keep it, not being willing to take so great a sum about with me, and that he did willingly, only asking me to let him use it, if chance should be, on my behalf, and making me keep the silver money for my own use going homeward.

"Yet I will keep you awhile, for Egfrid, the Thane's son of Hoxne, who is here at court, goes home for Yuletide, and so you can ride with him. And I think it will be well that we should send word to your father of how things have been faring with you, for so will you have naught of misfortune to tell when you come home."

I thought this wise counsel and kindly, for my people would best tell those wives and children of their loss, and so things would be easier for me. And Ingild sent writing to my father by the hand of some chapman travelling to the great fair at Norwich; and with his letter went one from me also, with messages to Lodbrok--for Eadmund had made me learn to write.

So after that I abode with Ingild, going to the court of Ethelred the King with him, and seeing the great feasts which the merchant guilds made for the king while he was in London; with many other wondrous sights, so that the time went quickly, and the more so that this Egfrid was ever with me. I had known him when we were little lads together at our own king's court, but he had left to go to that of our great overlord, Ethelred, so that I had not seen him for long years. And one may sail up our Waveney river to Hoxne, where his father's house is, from ours at Reedham, though it is a long way.

Now in the week before Yuletide we would start homewards, so with many gifts and words of good speed, Ingild set us forth; and we rode well armed and attended as the sons of great thanes should. So the way was light to us in the clear December weather, and if it were long the journey was very pleasant, for Egfrid and I grew to be great friends, and there is nothing more joyous than to be riding ever homeward through wood and over wild, with one whose ways fit with one's own, in the days of youth, when cares are none and shadows fall not yet across the path.

When we came to Colchester town we heard that Eadmund was yet at Thetford, and when we asked more we learnt that Lodbrok was there also with my father. So, because Hoxne was but twenty miles or thereby from Thetford, both Egfrid and I were glad that our way was yet together, and we would go there first of all.

One other thing we heard in Colchester, for we waited there for two days, resting our horses. There was a wandering gleeman who came into the marketplace on the hill top, and we stood and listened to him.

And first he sang of how Danes had come and burnt Harwich town. But the people told him to sing less stale news than that, for Harwich was close at hand. Now it was Halfden's ship which had done that, and the fires we saw before the fog came had been the beacons lit because of his landing.

Then he made a great outcry until he had many folk to listen, and they paid him well before he would sing. Whereon, forsooth, my ears tingled, for he sang of the burning of Bosham. And when he came to the stealing of the bell, his tale was, that it, being hallowed, would by no means bear that heathen hands should touch it, so that when it came to the deepest pool in the haven it turned red hot, and so, burning a great hole through the Danish ship, sank to the bottom, and the Danes were all drowned. Whereat the people marvelled, and the gleeman fared well.

I suppose that the flashing of the great bell that I had seen gave rise to this tale, and that is how men tell it to this day. And I care not to gainsay them, for it is close enough to the truth, and few know that I had so nearly a hand in the matter.

So we rode to Thetford, and how we were received there is no need for me to tell, for I came back as it were from the dead, and Egfrid after years of absence. And there with Eadmund were my father and mother, and Eadgyth, and Lodbrok, and Egfrid's folk also, with many more friends to greet us, and the king would have us keep Yuletide with him.

It had been in my mind that Halfden would have come to Reedham, and at first I looked for him, but he had not been heard of, so that now we knew that we should not see him before springtime came, for he must needs be wintering somewhere westward. Yet now Lodbrok was at ease with us, seeing the end of his stay, and being in high favour with our king, so that he was seldom away from his side in all the hunting that went on.

That liked not Beorn, the falconer, and though he would be friendly, to all seeming, with the Dane, it seemed to me that his first jealousy had grown deeper and taken more hold of him, though it might only be in a chance look or word that he showed it as days went on.

But one night my father and I rode in together from our hunting, and there was no one with us. We had been at Thetford for a month now, since I came home, and there was a talk that the king would go to the court of Ethelred at Winchester shortly, taking my father with him for his counsellor, and so we spoke of that for a while, and how I must order things at Reedham while he was away.

"Lodbrok, our friend, will go back with you," he said. "Now, have you noted any envy at the favour in which he is held by Eadmund?"

"Aye, Father," I answered, "from Beorn, the falconer."

"So you, too, have had your eyes open," went on my father; "now I mistrust that man, for he hates Lodbrok."

"That is saying more than I had thought."

"You have been away, and there is more than you know at the bottom of the matter. The king offered Lodbrok lands if he would bide with us and be his man, and these he refused, gently enough, saying that he had broad lands of his own, and that he would not turn Christian, as the king wished, for the sake of gain. He would only leave the worship of his own gods for better reasons. Now Beorn covets those lands, and has hoped to gain them. Nor does he yet know that Lodbrok will not take them."

Then I began to see that this matter was deeper than I had thought, and told my father of the first meeting of Lodbrok and Beorn. But I said that the falconer had seemed very friendly of late.

"Aye, too friendly," said my father; "it is but a little while since he held aloof from him, and now he is ever close to Lodbrok in field and forest. You know how an arrow may seem to glance from a tree, or how a spear thrust may go wide when the boar is at bay, and men press round him, or an ill blow may fall when none may know it but the striker."

"Surely no man would be so base!" I cried.

"Such things have been and may be again. Long have I known Beorn, and I would not have him for enemy. His ways are not open."

Then I said that if Beorn was ever near Lodbrok, I would be nearer, and so we left the matter.

There was one other thing, which was more pleasant, which we spoke about at that time. And it was about the betrothal of my sister Eadgyth. For it had come to pass that Egfrid, my friend, had sought her hand, and the match pleased us all. So before the king and my father went to Winchester there was high feasting, and those two were pledged one to the other. Then was a new house to be built for them at Hoxne, where the wedding itself should take place.

"Maybe Halfden will be here by that time," said Lodbrok to me. "I wish, friend Wulfric, that honest Egfrid had not been so forward, or that you had another fair sister."

Now though that saying pleased me, I could not wish for the wild viking as husband to our gentle Eadgyth, though I loved him well as my own friend. So I said that I thought Halfden's ship was his only love.

"Maybe," answered the jarl; "but one may never know, and I think it would be well for English folk and Danish to be knit together more closely."

But when I asked him why this should be so, he only smiled, and talked of friendliness between the two peoples, which seemed a little matter to me at that time.

Now when the time came, my father having gone, we two, Lodbrok and I, went back to Reedham, while my mother and Eadgyth stayed yet at Thetford for the sake of Egfrid's new house building, for he would have it built to suit her who should rule it.

Strange and grievous it was to me to see our shipyard empty, and sad to have to tell the story of the good ship's loss to those whose mourning was not yet over. Yet they were sailors' wives and children, and to them death at sea was honourable, as is to a warrior's wife that her husband should fall in a ring of foes with all his wounds in front. And they blamed me not; but rather rejoiced that I was safe returned.

Now without thought of any foe, or near or far, Lodbrok and I hunted and hawked over our manors, finding good sport, and in a little while I forgot all about Beorn, for I had seen him go in the king's train as they rode out to Winchester.

Out of that carelessness of mine came trouble, the end of which is hard to see, and heavily, if there is blame to me, have I paid for it. And I think that I should have better remembered my father's words, though I had no thought but that danger was far away for the time.

We hunted one day alone together, and had ridden far across our nearer lands to find fresh ground, so that we were in the wide forest country that stretches towards Norwich, on the south of the Yare. Maybe we were five miles from the old castle at Caistor. There we beat the woods for roebuck, having greyhounds and hawks with us, but no attendants, as it happened, and for a time we found nothing, not being far from the road that leads to the great city from the south.

Then we came to a thicket where the deer were likely to harbour, and we went, one on either side of it, so that we could not see one another, and little by little separated. Then I started a roe, and after it went my hounds, and I with them, winding my horn to call Lodbrok to me, for they went away from him.

My hounds took the roe, after a long chase, and I was at work upon it, when that white hound that I had given to Lodbrok came leaping towards me, and taking no heed of the other hounds, or of the dead deer, fawned upon me, marking my green coat with bloodstains from its paws.

I was angry, and rated the hound, and it fled away swiftly as it came, only to return, whining and running to and fro as though to draw me after it. Then I thought that Lodbrok had also slain a deer, starting one from the same thicket, which was likely enough, and that this dog, being but young, would have me come and see it. All the while the hound kept going and coming, being very uneasy, and I rated it again.

Then it came across me that I had not heard Lodbrok's horn, and that surely the dog would not so soon have left his quarry. And at that I hasted and hung the deer on a branch, and, mounting my horse, rode after the hound, which at once ran straight before me, going to where I thought Lodbrok would be.

When I came round the spur of wood that had first parted us I was frightened, for Lodbrok's horse ran there loose, snorting as if in terror of somewhat that I could not see, and I caught him and rode on.

When I could see a furlong before me, into a little hollow of the land that is there, before me was a man, dressed like myself in green, and he was dragging the body of another man towards a thicket; and as I saw this my horses started from a pool of blood in which lay a broken arrow shaft.

At that I shouted and spurred swiftly towards those two--letting the other horse go free--with I know not what wild thoughts in my mind.

And when I came near I knew that the living man was Beorn, and that the dead was Lodbrok my friend.

Then I took my horn and wound it loud and long, charging down upon that traitor with drawn sword, for I had left my hunting spear with the slain deer. He dropped his burden, and drew his sword also, turning on me. And I saw that the blade was red.

Then I made no more delay, but leapt from my horse and fell upon him to avenge myself for the death of him whom I loved. Would that I had had the axe whose use he who lay there had taught me so well, for then the matter would have been ended at one blow. But now we were evenly matched, and without a word we knew that this fight must be to the death, and our swords crossed, and blow and parry came quickly.

Then I heard shouts, and the noise of men running behind me, and Beorn cried:

"Stay us not, I avenge me of my friend," whereon I ground my teeth and pressed on him yet more fiercely, wounding him a little in the shoulder; and he cried out for help--for the men who came were close on us--and the well-cast noose of a rope fell over my shoulders, and I was jerked away from him well-nigh choked.

Two men ran past me and took Beorn, throwing up his sword with their quarterstaves, and it seemed to me that it was done over gently. Then they bound us both and set us on the ground face to face.

"Now here be fine doings!" said a man, who seemed to be the leader of the six or seven who had ended the fight.

"Aye, 'tis murder," said another, looking from Beorn to me and then to Beorn again; "but which is murderer and which true man?"

Now all these men were strangers to me, but I knew one thing about them from their dress. They were the men of mighty Earl Ulfkytel himself, and seemed to be foresters, and honest men enough by their faces.

"I am Wulfric, son of Elfric of Reedham," I said. "The slain man is Lodbrok, the Danish jarl, and this man slew him."

"He lies!" cried Beorn. "It was he who slew him, and I would revenge myself on him, for this Lodbrok was my friend."

Now I held my peace, keeping back my wrath as well as I might, for I began to see that Beorn had some deep plot on hand, thus to behave as if innocent.

"Why, so he cried out as we came," said one of the men when he heard Beorn's words.

"Maybe both had a hand in it," the leader said, and so they talked for a little.

Then came two of my own serfs, who had followed me to see the sport, I suppose, at a distance, as idle men will sometimes, when hunting is on hand, and with them came Lodbrok's dog, the same that had brought me. And when the dog saw Beorn he flew at him and would have mauled him sorely, but that the earl's men beat him off with their staves; and one took the leash that hung from my saddle bow and tied him to a tree, where he sat growling and making as though he would again fly at the falconer.

"Whose dog is this?" asked the leader.

"His," answered the serfs, pointing to Lodbrok.

"Dogs might tell strange tales could they talk," said the earl's man; "I misdoubt both these men. Let us take them to the earl for judgment."

"Where is the earl?" I asked.

"At Caistor," answered the man shortly, and I was glad that he was so near, for the matter would be quickly settled and I could go free.

"Unbind me, and I will go where you will," I said, but at that Beorn cried out.

"Loose him not, loose him not, I pray you!"

"Tie their hands behind them and let us be gone," was the answer, and they did so, loosing my feet, and setting us on my horse and Lodbrok's. And some of the men stayed behind with my serfs to make a litter on which to carry my friend's body, and follow us to Caistor. So as I went I cried quickly to those two men of mine that they should go in all haste to Reedham and tell what had befallen me to our steward, who would know what to do.

"Reedham is too far for a rescue to reach you in time," said the leader of the earl's men grimly; "think not of it."

"I meant not that, but to have witnesses to speak for me."

"That is fair," said the man, after a little thought, "we will not hinder their going."

Then they led us away, and presently reached that place where I had seen the broken arrow, and one picked it up, saying that here was surely the place where the deed was done, and that the arrow would maybe prove somewhat. And I think that here Beorn had shot the jarl, for all around those other marks on the grass were the hoofmarks of the rearing and frightened horse, and there were many places where an archer might lie unseen in the thickets, after following us all day maybe, as Beorn must have done, thus to find fitting chance for his plan when we two were far apart. And surely, had it not been for the dog, I think the fate of Lodbrok would have been unknown for many a long day, for but for him Beorn would have hidden his deed and ridden off before I had known aught.

Now, as the man handled the broken arrow, walking beside me, I saw it plainly, and knew it for one of my own, and one of four that I had lost at Thetford, though I did not know how.

At that I seemed to see all the plot, and my heart sank within me, for this Beorn was most crafty, and had planned well to throw doubt on me if things by ill chance fell out as they had, and so I rode in silence wondering what help should come, and whence. And I thought of Halfden, and what he should think when he heard the tale that was likely to be told him, and even as I thought this there was a rushing of light wings, and Lodbrok's gray falcon--which I had cast from my wrist as I fell on Beorn--came back to me, and perched on my saddle, for my hands were bound behind me. She had become unhooded in some way.

Then Beorn cried out to the men to take the falcon, for it was his, and that he would not have her lost; and that angered me so that I cried out on him, giving him the lie, and he turned pale as if I were free and could smite him. Whereon the men bade us roughly to hold our peace, and the leader whistled to the falcon and held out his hand to take her. But she struck at him and soared away, and I watched her go towards Reedham, and was glad she did so with a sort of dull gladness.

For I would have no man pass through a time of thoughts such as mine were as they took me to Caistor--rage and grief and fear of shame all at once, and one chasing the other through my mind till I knew not where I was, and would start as from a troubled dream when one spoke, and then go back to the same again as will a sick man. But by the time we reached Caistor I had, as it seemed to me, thought every thought that might be possible, and one thing only was plain and clear. I would ask for judgment by Eadmund the King, and if that might not be, then for trial by battle, which the earl would surely grant. And yet I hoped that Beorn's plot was not so crafty but that it would fail in some way.

So they put me in a strong cell in the old castle, leading Beorn to another, and there left me. The darkness came, and they brought me food, so I ate and drank, being very hungry and weary; and that done, my thoughts passed from me, for I slept heavily, worn out both in body and mind.

CHAPTER VI. THE JUSTICE OF EARL ULFKYTEL.

An armed jailor woke me with daylight, bringing me food again, and at first I was dazed, not knowing where I was, so heavy was my sleep. Yet I knew that I woke to somewhat ill.

"Where am I?" I asked.

"Under Caistor walls, surely," he said; and I remembered all.

The man looked friendly enough, so that I spoke again to him, asking if the great earl was here, and he said that he was.

"What do men say?" I asked then.

"That the matter is like to puzzle the earl himself, so that it is hard for a plain man to unriddle. But I think that half Reedham are here to see justice done you; even if it is naught but Earl Ulfkytel's justice!" And he grinned.

I knew why. For Ulfkytel was ever a just man, though severe, and his justice was a word with us, though in a strange way enough. For if a case was too hard for him to decide in his own mind, he would study to find some way in which the truth might make itself known, as it were. Nor did he hold much with trial by hot water, or heated ploughshares, and the like; finding new ways of his own contriving, which often brought the truth plainly to light, but which no other man would have thought of. So that if a man, in doing or planning some ill to another, was himself hurt, we would laugh and say: "That is like the earl's justice".

So though Ulfkytel was no friend of my father's, having, indeed, some old quarrel about rights of manor or the like, I thought nothing of that, save that he would the sooner send me to the king for trial.

The jailor told me that I should be tried at noonday, and went away, and so I waited patiently as I might until then, keeping thought quiet as best I could by looking forward and turning over what I could say, which seemed to be nothing but the plain truth.

At last the weary waiting ended, and they took me into the great hall of the castle, and there on the high seat sat the earl, a thin, broad-shouldered man, with a long gray beard and gray eyes, that glittered bright and restless under shaggy eyebrows. Beorn, too, was brought in at the same time, and we were set opposite to one another, to right and left of the earl, below the high place, closely watched by the armed guards, bound also, though not tightly, and only as to our hands.

And there on a trestle table before us lay the body of Jarl Lodbrok, my friend, in whose side was my broken arrow. All the lower end of the hall was filled with the people, and I saw my two serfs there, and many Reedham folk.

Then the court was set, and with the earl were many men whom I knew by sight, honest thanes and franklins enough, and of that I was glad.

First of all one read, in the ears of all, that of which we two who were there bound were accused, giving the names of those half-dozen men who had found us fighting and had brought us for judgment.

Then said Earl Ulfkytel:

"Here is a matter that is not easy in itself, and I will not hide this, that the father of this Wulfric and I are unfriendly, and that Beorn has been a friend of mine, though no close one. Therefore is more need that I must be very careful that justice is not swayed by my knowledge and thoughts of the accused. So I put that away from me; I know naught of these two men but what I hear from witnesses."

Some people at the end of the hall sought to praise the even handedness of that saying loudly, but the earl frowned and shouted:

"Silence!--shall a judge be praised for doing right?"

"Then," said he, growing quiet again, and speaking plainly and slowly that all might hear, "this is how the matter stands. Here are two men found fighting over the body of a third who is known, as men say, to have been friendly with both. No man saw the beginning of the business. Now we will hear what was seen, but first let this Wulfric speak for himself;" and he turned his bright eyes on me.

Now I told him all the truth from the time when I parted from Lodbrok until the men came.

Then the earl asked me:

"Why thought you that Beorn slew the man?"

"Because there was no other man near, and because I know that he bore ill will towards him for the favour shown him by the king."

"So," said Ulfkytel; "now let Beorn speak."

Then that evil man, being very crafty, did not deny my words, but said that he had found the body lying with my arrow in its side. And though he knew not why I had done the deed, for the sake of his friendship with my father and myself he would have hidden it, and even as he did so I came, falling on him. Whereon he grew wroth, and fought.

"It seems to me," said the earl, "that a word from you should rather have made Wulfric help you and thank you; not fall on you. Now let the witnesses say their say."

So they stood forward, telling naught but the truth, as honest men. And they seemed to think much of Beorn's having cried out for revenge. Also they showed the arrow, which fitted exactly to the headed end which was in Lodbrok's side, and was the same as two that were in my quiver with others. Now if Beorn shot that arrow he must have made away with both bow and quiver, for he had none when we were taken.

Then one of the other thanes said that the dead man had another wound, and that in the throat, and it was so, Whereon the jailer was bidden to bring our swords, and it was found that both were stained, for I had wounded Beorn a little, as I have said.

"Is Wulfric wounded then?" asked Ulfkytel.

And I was not.

"Whence then is Beorn's sword stained?" he asked.

Then came my two thralls, and spoke to the truth of my story, as did one of the men who had stayed with them, for he too had seen the deer hanging where I had left it, nearly a mile away from where the fight was. And my men added that they had seen me riding to that place, and had followed the call of my horn.

"Murderers do not call thus for help," said the earl. "What more?"

"Only that Lodbrok's dog flew at Beorn;" they said.

Then my steward and others told the story of my saving of Lodbrok, and there were one or two who knew how closely Beorn seemed to have sought his friendship. There was no more then to be said.

All the while Ulfkytel had watched my face and Beorn's, and now he said:

"The arrow condemns Wulfric, but any man might pick up a good arrow that he had lost. And the sword condemns Beorn, but there are many ways in which it might be bloodstained in that affair. Now, were these two robbers, I would hold that they were fighting over division of booty, but they are honourable men. Wherefore I will have one more witness who knows not how to lie. Fetch the dog."

So they brought Lodbrok's dog, which the serfs had with them, and they loosed it. It ran to his body first and cried over it, pulling his coat with its paws and licking his face, so that it was pitiful to see it, and there were women present who wept thereat.

Then it left him and came to me, thrusting its nose into my hand, but I would not notice it, for justice's sake; but when it saw Beorn, it bristled up, flying at his throat so that he fell under it, and the guards had much ado in getting it off, and one was bitten.

"The dog condemns Beorn," said the earl, "but Wulfric bred it."

After that he would have no more witness; but now should each of us lay hand on the body and swear that he was guiltless.

They brought a book of the Holy Gospels and put it on Lodbrok's breast, and first I laid my hand thereon, looking into the quiet face of the man whose life I had saved, and sware truly.

Then must Beorn confess or swear falsely, and I looked at him and his cheek was pale. But he, too, laid hand on the dread book in its awful place and sware that he was innocent--and naught happened. For I looked, as I think many looked, to see the blood start from the wound that he had given the jarl, but it was not so. There was no sign. Then crossed my mind the first doubt that I had had that Beorn was guilty. Yet I knew he lied in some things, and the doubt passed away quickly.

Then Ulfkytel pushed away the table from before him so that it fell over.

"Take these men away," he said. "I have heard and seen enough. I will think!"

They led us away to the cells again, and I wondered how all this would end. In an hour they brought us back, and set us in our places again. The earl had more to say, as it seemed.

"Will you two pay the weregild ^{xi} between you?"

"No, Lord Earl," I said; "that were to confess guilt, which would be a lie."

Then Beorn cried:

"I pray you, Wulfric, let us pay and have done!"

But I turned from him in loathing.

"Ho, Master Falconer," said Ulfkytel, "the man is an outlander! To whom will you pay it? To Wulfric who saved his life?"

Now at that Beorn was dumb, seeing that the earl had trapped him very nearly, and he grew ashy pale, and the great earl scowled at him.

"Let me have trial by battle," I said quietly, thinking that it would be surely granted.

There was as good reason to suspect me as Beorn, as I saw.

"Silence, Wulfric!" said the earl. "That is for me to say."

"Let the king judge, I pray you, Lord Earl," I went on, for he spoke in no angry tone, nor looked at me.

However, that angered him, for, indeed, it was hard to say whether king or earl was more powerful in East Anglia. Maybe Eadmund's power came by love, and that of the earl by the strong hand. But the earl was most loyal.

"What!" he said in a great voice, "am I not earl? And shall the king be troubled with common manslayers while I sit in his seat of justice? Go to! I am judge, and will answer to the king for what I do."

So I was silent, waiting for what should come next.

But he forgot me in a minute, and seemed to be thinking.

At last he said:

"One of these men is guilty, but I know not which."

And so he summed up all that he had heard, and as he did so it seemed, even to me, that proofs of guilt were evenly balanced, so that once again I half thought that Beorn might be wronged in the accusation, as I was.

"So," he ended, "friend has slain friend, and friends have fought, and there is no question of a third man in the matter."

He looked round on the honest faces with him, and saw that they were puzzled and had naught to say, and went on:

"Wherefore, seeing that these men have had trial by battle already, which was stopped, and that the slain man was a foreigner from over seas and has no friends to speak concerning him, I have a mind to put the judgment into the hands of the greatest Judge of all. As Lodbrok the Dane came by sea, these men shall be judged upon the sea by Him who is over all. And surely the innocent shall escape, and the guilty shall be punished in such sort that he shall wish that I had been wise enough to see his guilt plainly and to hang him for treachery to his friend and the king's, or else to put him into ward until some good bishop asks for pardon for ill doing."

And with that half promise he looked sharply at us to see if any sign would come from the murderer.

But I had naught to say, nor did I seem to care just now what befell me, while Beorn was doubtless fearful lest the wrath of Eadmund the King should prevail in the end were he to be imprisoned only. So he answered not, and the earl frowned heavily.

Now one of the franklins there, who knew me well enough, said:

"Wulfric, be not ashamed to confess it, if for once you shot ill--if your arrow went by chance to Lodbrok's heart, I pray you, say so. It may well be forgiven."

Very grateful was I for that kind word, but I would not plead falsely, nor, indeed, would it have told aught of the other wound that had been made. So I shook my head, thanking the man, and saying that it was not so.

Now I think that the earl had planned this in order to make one of us speak at the last, and for a moment I thought that Beorn was about to speak, but he forbore. Then Ulfkytel sighed heavily and turned away, speaking in a low voice to the thanes with him, and they seemed to agree with his words.

At length he turned to us and spoke gravely:

"It is, as I said, too hard for me. The Lord shall judge. Even as Lodbrok came shall you two go, at the mercy of wind and wave and of Him who rules them. You shall be put into Lodbrok's boat this night, and set adrift to take what may come. Only this I lay upon you, that the innocent man shall not harm the guilty. As for himself, he need, as I think, have no fear, for the guilty man is a coward and nidring ^{xii}. Nor, as it seems to me, if all may be believed, can the guiltless say for certain that the other did it."

Then was a murmur of assent to this strange manner of justice of Earl Ulfkytel's, and I, who feared not the sea, was glad; but Beorn would have fallen on the ground, but for his guards, and almost had he confessed, as I think.

"Eat and drink well," said Ulfkytel, "for maybe it is long before you see food again."

"Where shall you set them afloat?" asked a thane.

"Am I a fool to let men know that?" asked the earl sharply. "There would be a rescue for a certainty. You shall know by and by in private."

The guards took us away, and unbinding our hands, set plenty of good food and drink before us. And for my part I did well, for now that I knew the worst my spirits rose, and I had some hopes of escape, for there was every sign of fair weather for long enough. And viking ways had taught me to go fasting for two days, if need be, given a good meal to start upon.

But Beorn ate little and drank much, while the guards bade him take example from me, but he would not; and after a while sat silent in a corner and ghastly to look upon, for no one cared to meddle with him.

As soon as it grew dusk they bade us eat again, for in half an hour we should set forth to the coast. At that Beorn started up and cried out, wringing his hands and groaning, though he said no word, except that I should surely slay him in the boat.

Then I spoke to him for the first time since he had claimed the falcon, and said that from me, at least, he was safe. And I spoke roughly, so that I think he believed me, so plain did I make it that I thought one who was surely cowardly in word and deed was not worth harming, and he ceased his outcry.

At last we were set on horseback, and with two score or more mounted spearmen round us, we rode quickly out of Caistor town. A few men shouted and ran after us, but the guards spurred their horses, and it was of no use for them to try and follow. And the night was dark and foggy, though not cold for the time of year.

I feared lest we were going to Reedham, for there my folk would certainly rise in arms to rescue me, and that would have made things hard for them; but we went on southward, riding very fast, until after many long miles we came to the little hill of the other Burgh that stands where Waveney parts in two streams, one eastward to the sea, and the other northward to join the Yare mouth.

The moon had risen by the time we came there, and I could see a large fishing boat at the staithe, and, alas! alongside of her a smaller boat that I knew so well--that in which Lodbrok had come, and in which I had passed so many pleasant hours with him. Then the thought crossed my mind that what he had taught me of her was like to be my safety now; but my mind was dazed by all the strange things that came into it, and I tried not to think. Only I wondered if Ulfkytel had got the boat without a struggle with our people.

The earl was there with a few more thanes and many more guards, and they waited by the waterside.

One man started from beside the earl as we came, and rode swiftly towards us. It was Egfrid, my brother-in-law to be--if this did not bring all that fair plan to naught.

He cried out to the men to stay, and they, knowing who he was, did so, and made no trouble about his coming to my side. There he reined up his horse, and laid his hand on my shoulder.

"Alas for this meeting, my brother!" he cried. "What can I do? Men came and told me of rumour that was flying about concerning this business, and I have ridden hard to get to Reedham, but I met the earl, who told me all. And I have prayed him to let the king judge, but he will not, saying that his mind is fixed on higher judgment--and you know what he is."

Then I said:

"So that you hold me not guilty, my brother, I mind not so much; for if I must die you will take my place, and my father will not be without a son.

"I think you guilty!" he cried; "how could that be? Shame on me were I to dream thereof--and on any man of all who know you who would deem you could be so."

"Have you heard all?"

"Aye, for the earl has told me very patiently, being kind, for all his strange ways. At last I told him that his wish for justice blinded his common sense. And at that, instead of being wrath, he smiled at me as on a child, and said, 'What know you of justice?'; so that I was as one who would beat down a stone wall with his fists---helpless. He is not to be moved. What can I do?" and almost did he weep for my hard case.

"Let things go their own way, my brother," I said gently. "I do not fear the sea, nor this man here--Beorn. Do you go to Reedham and tend Lodbrok's hawk for me, and send word to my father, that he may come home, and to the king, so that Lodbrok may have honourable burial."

He promised me those things, and then went back upon the slaying of Lodbrok, asking how it came about.

I told him what I thought thereof; and Beorn, who must needs listen to all this, ground his teeth and cursed under his breath, for there seemed to have come some desperate fury on him in place of his cold despair of an hour since.

And when Egfrid had heard all, he raised his hand and swore that not one stone of Beorn's house should be unblackened by fire by this time tomorrow night, and as he said it he turned to Beorn, shaking and white with wrath.

"Let that be," I answered him quickly; "no good, but much harm may come therefrom. Wait but six months, and then maybe I shall be back."

Now while we had thus spoken together, Ulfkytel had dismounted and was holding some converse with a man whose figure I could not well make out, even had I cared to try, in the dark shadow of horses and riders which stayed the moonlight from them. But at this time the stranger came towards us, and I saw that it was the priest who served the Church of St. Peter, hard by where we stood. He came to Beorn first, and spoke to him in a low voice, earnestly; but Beorn paid no sort of heed to him, but turned his head away, cursing yet. So after a few more words, the priest came to me.

"Wulfric," he said, "sad am I to see you thus. But justice is justice, and must be done."

"Aye, Father," I answered, "and right will prevail."

"Maybe we shall see it do so," he answered shortly, not seeming willing to hold much converse with me; "but it is likely that you go to your death on the wide sea. Many a man have I shriven at the point of death--and Ulfkytel the Earl will not hold me back from your side--an you will."

Thereat I was very glad, for I knew that the risks before me were very great, and I said as much.

Then he took the bridle of my horse and began to lead me on one side, and the guards hindered him until Ulfkytel shouted to them to draw aside in such wise as to prevent my riding off, though, bound as I was, it had been of little use to try to do so. Then they let the priest take me out of earshot, and maybe posted themselves in some way round us, though I heeded them not.

So then in that strange way I, bound and on horseback, confessed; and weeping over me at last, with all his coldness forgotten, the priest of Burgh shrived me and blessed me, bidding me keep a good heart; for, if not in this world, then at the last would all be made right, and I should have honour.

After that he went once more to Beorn, but he was deaf to his pleading, and so he went away to the church, speaking no word to any man, and with his head bent as with the weight of knowledge that must not be told, and maybe with sorrow that the other prisoner, if guilty, would not seek for pardon from the Judge into whose hand he was about to go.

But as for me, this thing was good, and a wondrous comfort to me, and I went back to Egfrid with a cheerful heart, ready to face aught that might come.

Now the earl called to the guards from the water's edge, saying that the time was come, and we rode towards him, and I made Egfrid promise that he would hold his hand, at least till my father came.

Now they drew my boat to the shore, and they took Beorn from his horse first, and often have I wondered that he did not confess, but he said no word, and maybe his senses had left him by reason of his terror. They haled him to the boat and unbound him, setting him in the bows, where he sank down, seeming helpless, but staring away from shore over the sparkling waters that he feared.

Then came my turn, and of my own will I stepped into the boat, looking her over to see that all was there as when Lodbrok came. And all was there, though that was little enough. The one oar, the baler, and a few fathoms of line on the floorboards.

Now as I had nothing to lose by speaking, I cried to the earl concerning the one matter that troubled me.

"Earl Ulfkytel, I pray you forgive my poor folk if they fought for me when you took the boat."

"They knew not why it was taken," he answered quietly. "I sent a messenger before I gave sentence. But I should not have blamed them had they fought, knowing all."

Then a rough man who tended the boat called out:

"Ho, Lord Earl, are these murderers to go forth with gold on arm and hand?" for we had been stripped of naught but our arms, and I suppose the man coveted these things.

But the earl answered:

"Which is the murderer? I know not. When his time comes stripped he will be of life itself. Let the men be," and then in a moment he asked one by him; "what weapons had Lodbrok when he came?"

"Only a dagger," answered the thane to whom he spoke. "Or so men say."

"That is true," I said plainly.

"Give the men their daggers," then said the earl; and when one told him that we should use them on each other, he answered:

"I think they will not; do my bidding!"

So they threw my hunting knife to me, and I girded it on. But Beorn's dagger fell on the floor of the boat, and he paid no heed to it, not even turning his head.

Then the earl and three thanes went on board the fishing boat, and Egfrid would fain have come with him. But I signed him back, and when the fishermen put out oars and pushed from the shore, towing us with them, he ran waist deep into the water, and clasped my hand for the last time, weeping.

Then the shore grew dim to my eyes, and I put my head in my hands and would look no more. Soon I heard only the wash and creak of the large boat's oars, and a murmured word or two from those on board her. Then from Burgh Tower came the tolling of the bell, as for the dying, and that was the last voice of England that I heard as we went from shore to sea.

But at that sound came hope back to me, for it seemed to me as the voice of Bosham bell calling for help that should come to myself, as I had been called in time of need by the like sound to the help of St. Wilfrith's men. And straightway I remembered the words of the good prior, and was comforted, for surely if St. Wilfrith's might could sink the pirate ship it would be put forth for me upon the waters. So I prayed for that help if it might be given, and for the Hand of Him who is over all things, even as the prior had bidden me understand.

Whereupon I was in no more trouble about myself, and now I began to hope that the still weather might even bring Halfden's ship to find me.

So we passed from river to broad, and from broad to sea, and went in tow of the fishing boat until we came to that place, as nearly as might be, where I had saved Lodbrok. I could see the sparkle of our village lights, or thought I could.

There they cast us off, and for a few minutes the two boats lay side by side on the gently-heaving water, for the wind was offshore, and little sea was running.

Then the earl rose up, lifting his hand and saying, very solemnly:

"Farewell, thou who art innocent. Blame not my blindness, nor think ill of me. For I do my best, leaving you in the Hand of God, and not of man!"

So he spoke; then the oars swung and fell, and in a few moments his boat was gone into the shoreward shadows and we were alone, and I was glad.

Now I looked at Beorn, and I thought him strangely still, and so watched him. But I soon saw that he was in some sort of fit or swoon, and paid no heed to aught. Yet I thought it well to take his dagger from where it lay, lest he should fall on me in some frenzy.

I took up the weapon, and straightway I longed to draw it and end his life at once, while all sorts of plans for escape thereafter came into my mind. But I could not slay a helpless man, even this one, though I sat fingering the dagger for a long while. At last the evilness of these thoughts was plain to me; so quickly I cast the dagger overboard, and it was gone.

Then I thought I would sleep while I might, for there was no sea to fear, and the tide set with the wind away from shore from the river mouth, as I knew well, for it was ebbing. It was weary work to watch the land growing less and less plain under the moon. Yet I feared Beorn's treachery, and doubted for a while, until the coil of rope that lay at my feet caught my eye as I pondered. With that I made no more ado, but took it and bound him lightly, so that at least he could not rise up unheard by me. Nor did he stir or do aught but breathe heavily and slowly as I handled him. When he roused I knew that I could so deal with him that I might unbind him.

After that I slept, and slept well, rocked by the gentle rise and fall of the waves, until daylight came again.