er
gathered again in force against us, and at last we held every town
and camp from sea to sea along the line of the hills that run from
Exmoor southwards, and there was our new border.
Jago went back to Exeter, seeing that his house was burnt at Norton
with the rest of the town, and I heard afterwards that there he had
found his wife, whom he had sent away when the certainty of war
arose. I was in no trouble for him, as he had houses elsewhere.
But we sent Erpwald back to Glastonbury in all haste, and he was in
nowise loth to go, as may be supposed. One may also guess how he
was received there. Then, as soon as Ina came back with us all, the
ealdorman set to work to prepare afresh the wedding that was so
strangely and suddenly broken in upon, and it was likely to be
little less joyous that it had been so.
On the evening before the wedding the ealdorman came to me, when
the day's duties were over, and said that Elfrida wished to speak
to me. So I went, of course, not at all troubling that the
ealdorman could not tell me what was to be said, for there were
many things concerning tomorrow's arrangements with which I was
charged in one way or another.
So I found her waiting me alone, in that chamber off the hall where
her father and I spoke of the poisoning.
"I have not sent for you for nothing, Oswald," she said, blushing a
little as if it were a hard matter she had to speak of. "There is
somewhat on my mind that I must needs disburden."
"Open confession is good," I said, laughing--"what is it?
"Well--have you forgotten your vow of last Yuletide?"
"Not in the least. Would you have me do so? For that were somewhat
hard."
"No--but yes, in a way."
There she stopped for a moment, and I waited for her to go on, not
having any very clear notion of what was to come. She turned away
from me somewhat, letting her fingers play over one of the tall
horns on the table, when she spoke again.
"It has been in my mind that you--that maybe you thought that I
have been hard on you--in ways, since we spoke in the orchard."
So that was what troubled her, but I did not see why she should
have spoken of it, seeing that a lady has no need at all to justify
her ways in such a matter, surely.
"No," I answered, "that I never thought. If my vow displeased you,
or maybe rather if I displeased you thereafter, I had no reason to
blame any one but myself for the way in which it was needful that I
should be shewn that so i
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