him at once of the house of a great thane beyond the Quantocks,
easily reached by safe roads through the forest land, where Danes would
not care to follow, and he thanked me.

Then he said that I might well try to join the levy; but that it was
possible that it would be hard for me. And I told him that if I could
not manage it I would join in the fight when no man would question me,
and that seemed possible to both of us. But if the Danes yet kept away I
knew I could wait in hiding, having money now, safely enough till they
had gone and the levy dispersed.

Then came Alswythe back, bearing with her the things I needed. And
Wulfhere begged her not to bide alone in the wood now, since robbers
might be overbold now that the men were drawn off to the levy. That was
good advice in itself; but I knew that he would have her near the hall,
lest there should be sudden need for fleeing. She promised him, thanking
him for the warning, and he left us.

Then she tended me as I ate, carefully, and never had there been for me
so sweet a meal as that, outlawed and homeless though I was to the
world. For her word was my law now, and my home was all in her love for me.

I think no man can rightly be held an outlaw who has kept law and has
home such as that. For while he has, and loves those, wrong will he do
to none.

It was Alswythe who bade me go at last, not for her own sake, but for
mine, that I might go on my way to win my fair name back again.

CHAPTER VII. OSRIC THE SHERIFF.

Through the woods I reached Bridgwater town before the sun set, and
looking down from the steep hill that overhangs the houses, I could see
the market square full of men, shining in arms and armour, and noisy
enough, as I could hear. But every one of the townsfolk knew me, and by
this time also knew what had befallen me, so that as I stood there it
seemed not quite so easy to win a way to the levy as before. The
highways were yet full of men coming in, for from where I stood on the
edge of the cover I could see the bend of one road, and straight down
another. If I went on them I must walk like a leper, alone and shunned
by all, with maybe hard words to hear as well.

While I thought of all this, there crept out from among the woods an old
crone, doubled up under the weight of a faggot of dry sticks, who stayed
to stare at me. I did not mind her, but of a sudden she dropped her
bundle of wood, and I saw that it was like to be a heavy task for he