ly, half freakishly, "It would not be well for you
to anger him. He is the page of Canute himself, a real Wandering Wolf,
and recks not whom he attacks. He came near to spitting Oslac at the
battle, and even threatened me."

"Oslac!" screamed one of the serving-maids, turning very red. "The
murderous little fiend!"

"He deserves to have his neck wrung!" two more cried out.

And Father Ingulph cleared his throat loudly. "Well-fitting is
your charity both toward my teachings and your heart, my son; and
yet--Discretion is the mother of other virtues. To bring one of those
roving children of Satan into a Christian household will lay upon me a
responsibility which--which--" He paused to take a mouthful of wine and
eye the stranger over the goblet rim with much disfavor.

While the maids whispered excitedly in one another's ears, Hildelitha
began to sniff behind her apron. "I do not see why you wanted to bring
him home, Lord Sebert. You know that Danes are odious to me since my
husband, of holy memory, fell under their axes--most detestable--Yet I
would not anger you, my honey-sweet lord," she broke off abruptly.

For the Lord of Ivarsdale had suddenly grown very stiff and grave; there
was something curiously haughty in the quiet distinctness of his words.

"I have brought the boy home by reason of the King's command that he be
held in safety--and because it was my pleasure to succor him. And I have
fetched him up here in order that you should supply his needs, being
distressed for want of food and drink and healing salves. I am not
pleased that you should meet my wishes in so light and cold a manner.
I desire your love will, as is becoming, receive him kindly and
charitably."

He raised his hand as the pertest of the maids would have answered him,
and there followed an uncomfortable pause. Then seven gowns swept the
reed-strewn floor as seven courtesies fell, and Hildelitha thrust out
her palm to give the pert maid a resounding box on the ear.

"You have heard your master, hussy! Why do you not exert yourself to
bring food? Elswitha, if you do not want the mate to that, fetch the
salve out of my chest."

In an instant all was confusion; under cover of it the fat monk returned
to his cup and the young master walked quietly to the door.

Homesick and heartsick, the waif in the page's dress was left facing the
unfriendly glances. Even in her bravest days, she had never known what
it was to be disliked, and now--! Sud