to the far
side to wait my return.

I asked Thora where I must take her to find the jarl.

"To his house, surely," she said.

"I do not know the way from here," I answered; "I fear you must
lead me."

"As you will," she said, wondering. "It is across the town
certainly."

That was bad for me, perhaps, but I should find that out presently.
So we went across the open, and came to the road through the town
along which I had been before. It was clearer, though there were
yet many people about.

Now when we were in the shadow of the first houses, Thora stopped
suddenly and looked hard at me.

"Will you tell me if I am heading you into danger?" she said.

"What danger is possible?" I answered. "There are no Saxons here
yet."

"Not one?" she said meaningly. "I may be wrong--it does seem
unlikely but I think you do not belong to us. Your speech is not
like ours altogether, and your helm is gold encircled, as if you
were a king."

"Lady," I said, "why should you think that I am not of your people?
Let us go on to the jarl."

"Now I know that you are not. Oh, how shall I thank you for this?"

Then she glanced at my helm again, and drew a sudden little quick
breath.

"Is it possible that you are Alfred of Wessex? It were like what
they say of him to do as you have done for a friendless maiden."

Then she caught my hand and held it in both of hers, looking half
fearfully at me.

"Lady," I said, "I am not King Alfred, nor would I be. Come, let us
hasten."

"I will take you no further," she said then. "Now I am sure that
you are of the Northmen that were seen with the Saxons. You are not
of us, and I shall lose you your life."

Then came the quick trot of horses, and I saw a little troop coming
down the street, their arms flashing in the streaks of moonlight
between the houses.

"I will see you in good hands, Lady Thora," I answered. "Who are
these coming?"

"It is my father," she said, and drew me back deeper into shadow.

After the horsemen and beside them ran men who bore planks and
ropes, and it was plain that the jarl had found out his loss, and
hastened to bridge the gap and cross the river.

I saw that I could keep up the pretence no longer.

"Let me walk behind you as your servant," I said. "If any heed me,
I pray you make what tale you can for me."

"What can I say to you in thanks?" she cried quickly, and letting
go my hand which she yet held. "If you are slain, it is my fault.
Tell me yo