a wonderfully wise man, and, as I thought, a holy one
in truth, as they called him. There is that about such an one that
cannot be mistaken.

Harek sang for us, and pleased all, and into his song came, as one
might suppose, a good deal about the Asir. And then Neot began to
ask me a good deal about the old gods, as he called them. I told
him what I knew, which was little enough maybe, and so said that
Harek knew all about them, and that he should rather ask him.

He did not care to do that, but asked me plainly if I were a
Christian.

"How should I be?" I said. "Odda is the first Christian man I have
spoken with, to my knowledge. So, if I were likely to leave my own
faith, I have not so much as heard of another."

"So you are no hater of Christians?" he said.

"Surely not. Why should I be? I never thought of the matter."

Then he said:

"Herein you Norsemen are not like the Danes, who hate our faith,
and slay our priests because of their hatred."

"More likely because Christian means Saxon to them, or else because
you have slain them as heathens. Northmen do not trouble about
another nation's faith so long as their own is not interfered with.
Why should they? Each country has its own ways in this as in other
matters."

Thereat Neot was silent, and asked me no more. Hereafter I learned
that hatred of race had made the hatred of religion bitter, until
the last seemed to be the greatest hatred of all, adding terror and
bitterest cruelty to the struggle for mastery.

Presently, before it was very late, Neot rose up and spoke to Odda,
bidding him farewell. Then he came to me, and said:

"Tell the king that we have spoken together, and give him this
message if you will that I go to my place in Cornwall, and shall be
there for a while."

Then he passed to Thord, and took his hard hand and said:

"Good are words that come from an honest heart. I have learned a
lesson tonight where I thought to have learned none."

"I marvel that you needed to learn that," Thord said gruffly.

"So do I, friend," answered Neot; "but one is apt to go too far in
a matter which one has at heart, sometimes before one is aware.
Then is a word in season welcome."

Then he thanked Harek for his songs, and went, the Saxons bowing as
he passed down the long table with Odda.

"That is a wise man and a holy," said Thord.

"Ay, truly," answered the thane who had told me about him. "I mind
when he and Alfred the king were the haughtie