the further boundary of the wood, and across
its brawling brown water a rude stone bridge continued their path, and
linked the bank with the little Isle of Thorns. Nature must have had a
prison in mind when she constructed this island, Elfgiva thought with a
shiver. A low sandy hillock rising amid three streams or water, the high
tide would have cut it off completely but for the friendly arm which
the Watling Street extended to it from the Tot Hill, while a thicket
of brambles and briers edged it like a natural prison wall. Nor had man
forgotten such defences, she found when they had passed a gap in the
thorny hedge; a fence of stone rose sheer before them and extended on
either hand as far as eye could reach. In the fence was a great gate
of black oak, which a black-robed Benedictine presently opened to their
summons.

Now for the first time, Thorkel took his hand from her rein. "I will go
no farther," he said. "You are expected, and one of the monks will be
your guide. It lies only across the court and through one more door."
His lips curled in their cruel smile as he motioned her forward. "Go in
and take possession. It is not sure how soon the King will get time to
come to you. His mood has not been very playful lately. Rothgar's sword
has scarcely had time to go to bed in its sheath--"

"The King is occupied with great matters," Rothgar's heavy voice bore
down the old man's thinner tones. "It is not only that he has to be
crowned and make laws. He has many Englishmen to dispose of, and much
land to divide up among his following."

While Elfgiva's glance passed him uncomprehendingly, Randalin lifted
startled eyes. When she saw that he was looking directly at her, she
knew that it was no chance shaft, but an arrow aimed at her heart. The
time had come that he had looked forward to, when Canute should get the
kingship over the English, and Ivarsdale should come back to the race
that had built it. And it was all fair, quite fair, quite within the
rules of the game at which she herself had played. She had not a word to
offer as she lowered her eyes and let her horse follow the others as it
would. There was satisfaction on the lips of each of the King's deputies
as they rode cityward that day.

Chapter XXV. The King's Wife

Long is and indirect the way
To a bad friend's,
Though by the road he dwell.
Ha'vama'l.

The fact that King Edgar had slept under its uneven on some visit to
Duns