"That same," said Wardo, with the pride of a servant in a well-known master.
"One hears tales of that house these days," said Wulf, casually. "See, friend, when I have made arrangement for my lords and brought them hither, is there not a place where we might find a mouthful of good Saxon ale?"
Wardo hesitated.
"I fear my time is too short," he answered. "Even now I am late—"
"For the maid who awaits thee?" said Wulf, with a chuckle. "Well, I'll not keep thee then. But this much I'll tell thee now. When my lord sails with his familia from Rutupiæ, it will be without Wulf, the son of Wulf. I have it in mind to stay here longer; there will be fat pickings for Saxons by and by, when these Roman lords are crowded out. Hast heard that?"
"Ay," said Wardo. "I have heard it."
"And it is in my mind also to try for some of these same fat pickings," said Wulf, and laughed. "Why not I, as well as any man?"
"If you wait for these Roman lords to be crowded out, as you have it," said Wardo, "it will be some time before these fat pickings fall to your lot."
"Perhaps not so long time as one might think," Wulf retorted. "Hast heard of what happened at Anderida?"
"Oh, ay," said Wardo. "The lord governor of Anderida fled to the house of my lord."