The youth rose and bowed, and passed within the door. In a moment or two he was back again, throwing the door open for us.
"Yourself and no other, lord," he said.
"I take these two," answered Ealdwulf the archbishop. "I will answer to the king for their presence."
So we two, Erling and I, followed him into the chamber of the king; and with my first glance at Offa there fell on me a great pity for him.
He sat at a great heavy table in a carven chair, leaning his crossed arms before him on the board, and staring at naught with hollow, black-ringed eyes, as of sleeplessness and grief. His face was wan and drawn, so that he seemed ten years or more older than when last he sat in hall with us; and he was clad in the same clothes which he wore when he came forth to us on the morning of terror. None had dared to touch aught in his room; and bent and soiled among the rushes on the floor lay the little gold crown which he wore at the last feast, as if he had swept it from the table out of his sight, and had spurned it from him thereafter in some fit of passion. Hard by that lay a broken sword, and its hilt flashed and sparkled with the gems I had noted in the hall. It was his own.
On the table was neither wine nor food, but there was a great book, silver covered and golden lettered, and it was open at a place where a wondrous picture in many hues showed a king who seemed to humble himself in fear before a long-robed man priestlike.
He did not stir when we came in, nor did he say a word. Only he looked at Ealdwulf, as it were blindly, waiting what he should hear from his lips. And into his look there crept somewhat like fear.
But there was naught terrible or hard in the face which he looked on; it had but deepest sorrow and pity.
"My king," said Ealdwulf, seeing that he must needs speak first, "here is one who has a word for you. I think that you will be glad to hear it. Know you where the body of Ethelbert was hidden?"
"No," said the king in a dull voice. "My men search even now. It is all that I can do."