"But to come hither from Sutton you had to cross the river. Your horse is dry. He has not had time to shake the water from him yet."
"That is a longer story," I said. "But he was on this side; we had to wade to reach him."
The chief set his hand on my leg and gripped it. Then he laughed. "Reach down your arm," he said.
I did so, and he laughed again.
"Very wet," he said. "But the lady?"
"Very wet also," answered Hilda. "I pray you, sir, let us pass on, if only for that reason. I would fain get to the archbishop at Fernlea shortly."
"Why to him, lady?"
"Because even Quendritha will fear to take me thence."
"Eh, but you are flying from her! Then speed you well, lady and good sirs. We have little love for Offa, but he is a warrior and a man; whereas--Well, I will bid you promise to say no word of this meeting, and you shall go."
That promise we gave freely, as may be supposed. If the Welsh chose to swarm over the border and burn Sutton Palace, it might be but just recompense for what those walls had seen; but I thought that, with their fear of the gathering at an end, the man who had lit yonder hillside fires would disband his levies for the time. So we parted very good friends, in a way, and this chief bade one of his men guide us for the mile or so which he could pass in safety. We were closer then to Fernlea than I thought, and in half an hour we were at the gates.