"It is Etheldrida the princess," he whispered to me. "She is flying to some far nunnery--mayhap to Crowland--that there she may end her days in what peace she may find. It is well, for here with her mother is but terror for her."
The archbishop signed to me, and I went to the side of that litter, unhelming, while Erling took my horse's bridle. There I knelt on one knee, and waited for what I was to hear. It was a little while before that came, but the sobs were at length stilled. I heard one of the ladies, who were those who came from East Anglia, say to the other that it was good that she had wept at last.
And presently from behind the curtains of the litter the princess spoke to me, very low, and I do not think any other heard.
"Good friend of him whom I loved, I thank you for your loyalty to him. The archbishop has told me, and you have given me back a little of my trust in men. I had deemed that all were false for aye, but for you, I think. Now I go hence, and beyond the walls of some nunnery I shall never pass, and there I will pray for you also. And for you there shall be happy days to come, in the meed of utmost loyalty."
I could not answer her, and still I knelt, for there was somewhat needed to come ere I could part from her without a word. But before I could frame aught she set her hand through the curtains, and in it was somewhat small, as it were a silken case cunningly woven round a little jewel, perchance.
"There was none whom I would ask to do what I longed for," she said; "but now it will be done. I pray you set this on his heart, that it may go to his grave with him."
"There it shall most surely be, lady," I said. "I am honoured in the duty."
"Go!" she said faintly; "and farewell."
I rose up hastily, and went back to my horse, while the lady who had spoken just now busied herself in caring for her mistress. Selred took my arm and walked aside with me.
"You must not come back to East Anglia," he said. "I know that you would fain see the lady of Thetford, but it were useless danger for you. I will tell her all that you have done, now; and if in after days you may come to us, do so. Bide and tend Sighard and Hilda, and mind that there is sore peril to both of them so long as Quendritha lives. She is shut up now, but all the more has her mind freedom to plan and plot the fall of those who have seen her at her worst. One cannot shut up such a woman as she, but she will have her ways of learning all she will, and her tools are many."