he men they wait for, so I fear to go back alone. A goldsmith
is ever fair prey."

Then came a knocking on the door, and my man went to see what was
wanted. Then one said to him:

"Edric the earl bids Redwald the thane to speak with him at his
house before he sleeps."

Now the goldsmith stood where he could see the long streak of light
that shone from the door across the street, and he said to me in a
low voice:

"There are a dozen armed men outside, lord."

Thrand turned round to tell me this message, and as he did so
Streone's messenger pushed by him into the hail, rudely enough.

"To the stables and call my men," I whispered to the goldsmith,
pointing to the door which led thither, and he went out slowly, not
knowing why I sent him.

"Where is Redwald, Olaf's man?" the newcomer said, and his tone was
so rough that at the uncivil words I glanced at him sharply and
made no answer. He was fully armed, I saw.

But my follower would not bear this.

"Yonder is Redwald the thane," he said; "mind how you speak, man."

"Thane or not, I have come to take him to Edric the earl," was the
answer.

"Ho, thane! hear you the earl's message?"

Now when this began, I had taken up the scabbard with my right hand
and was looking at the work, and the sword was in my left, hidden
by my cloak as it fell to my side. I suppose the earl's housecarle
thought I was unarmed.

"I am Redwald," I said, putting the scabbard on the table, and so
leaving my right hand free. "I hear an uncivilly-given message
enough. And I think the earl has not sent for me in such terms as
those."

The man raised his hand a little and made a sign, and I heard the
quick steps of men crossing the street with clatter of steel. Then
I knew that Edric had sent for me, dead or alive.

"Come you must," the man said.

"What if I will not?" I answered.

"I will make you," he said, and with that he smote Thrand fairly in
the face and felled him, hitting squarely from his left shoulder,
and then his sword was out and he made one step towards me.

Quick as thought I grasped the hilt of my sword, and smote upwards
with it as I drew it from under the fold of my cloak. There is no
stopping that stroke, and the man leapt back from it as it seemed,
but the blade smote him beneath the chin, and so far as he was
concerned Edric's message had come to naught. He would never draw
sword on any man again. Nor do I think he would have been thus bold
had he not though