und us as soon as I had looked in the
mouth of one likely steed. After which, as may be supposed, it was
not likely that I could make any choice at all; but we two sat on
the bench outside the town gate, and had, I think, every horse in
the fair trotted past us, whether good or bad. And at last the
noise, and to tell the truth the wrangling of the dealers, grew
tiresome, and we went our way, some other buyer having taken their
notice for a moment.

And then it chanced that we came to a quiet place where a man,
armed and with two armed helpers, had a string of slaves for sale.
The poor folk were lying and sitting on the ground, with that dull
look on them which I hate to see, and I was going to pass them,
throwing them a penny as I did so. Werbode was laughing at the ways
of the horse dealers, and did not notice them; for the sight was
common enough after any war of ours with Carl, when the captives
who could not ransom them were sold.

And then one of them leaped up with a great cry, and hailed me by
name.

"Wilfrid! Wilfrid of Weymouth!"

I turned sharply enough at that call, for the last thing that one
could have expected was that my name should be known here in the
land of the East Angles. And who of all whom I knew in the years
gone by would name me as of Weymouth? I had but been there as a
stranger.

"Wilfrid the swimmer!" said the man, stretching his bound hands to
me.

The slave trader cracked his whip and rated the man for daring to
call to me thus, bidding him be silent. But I lifted my hand, and
he held his peace, doffing his cap to me with all reverence for the
fine dress and jewelled weapons--Carl's gift--that I wore.

I did not heed his words of apology, but looked at the ragged,
brown-faced man who called to me. He was thin and wiry, with a
yellow beard, and his hands were hard with some heavy work. Yet his
face was in some way not altogether strange to me, though I could
not name him. He was no thrall of ours or of my cousin's, so far as
I could tell.

"Wilfrid--thane--whatever you are now," he said, for I would not
suffer the trader to prevent his words, "you gave me a black eye at
Weymouth, and thereafter drank 'skoal' to me when we chased the
trading ship."

Thereat Werbode laughed.

"Faith," he said, "if every thrall to whom I have given a black eye
or so has a claim on me--"

But his words went on unheard as far as I was concerned. I seemed
to have the very smell of the smoke of bur