their lead. Yet of these there were some, like my
father, who had no hatred, to say the least, of the Christian and
his creed, and did but need the words of one who could speak
rightly to them to turn altogether from the Asir.

Maybe the only man who was at this time really fierce against the
faith was Erpwald, the thane of Wisborough, some half-score miles
from us northwards across the forest. He had been the priest of
Woden in the old days, and indeed held himself so even now, though
secretly, for fear of Ina the Wessex king, who ruled our land well
and strongly. This Erpwald was no very good neighbour of ours, as
it happened, for he and my father had some old feud concerning
forest rights and the like which he had taken to heart more than
there was any occasion for, seeing that it was but such a matter as
most thanes have, unless they are unusually lucky, in a place where
boundaries are none. It is likely enough that but for the easy ways
of my father, who gave in to him so far as he could, this feud
would have been of trouble some time ago, for as the power of
Erpwald, as priest, waned he seemed to look more for power in other
ways. Yet in the end both the matter of the faith and the matter of
the feud seemed to work together in some way that brought trouble
enough on our house, which must be told; for it set Owen and me out
into the world together for a time, and because of it there befell
many happenings thereafter which have not all been sad in their
ending.

Owen had been with us for a year and a half when what I am going to
tell came to pass, and in that time my father had come to look on
him rather as a brother than as a guest, and the thought that he
might leave him at any time was one which he did not like to keep
in his mind.

That being so, it was not at all surprising that in this summer my
father had at last borne witness that he wished to become a
Christian altogether, and so it had come to pass that he and Owen
and I used to ride to Bosham, the little seacoast village beyond
Chichester town, to speak with Dicul, the good old Irish priest,
who yet bided there rather than in the new monastery which Wilfrith
built at Selsea, until we were taught all that was needful, and the
time came when we should be baptized.

That my father would have done here at Eastdean, that all his
people, who were Christians before him, should see and rejoice. Yet
it was not an easy matter for him as it had been for them,