"Ay," he said; "I have helped to burn a church or two in my time, and now I am sorry therefor. I have heard good words in this place, so that I think I know why you were ready to risk gold to free a captive. Let me go with you again."
"I will find some good priest who shall tell you more and teach you," said I.
But he shook his head.
"That is another matter," he answered. "Let be for a time. I am content to go your way and see what it is; but no man, if he is worth aught, will leave the gods of his fathers offhand, not even for the faith which is good for you and for Carl the king, and this king here who has death written on his handsome face."
"What mean you by that?" I asked, almost angrily. "On the face of Ethelbert?"
"Ay," he answered. "Cannot you see it?"
"Seldom have I seen a stronger or more healthy man! This is sheer foolishness."
"I do not speak of health," he answered. "Eh, well, we of the old race have the second sight now and then. On my word, I wish I had it not. Pay no heed to me an you will; it is best not."
Then he laughed, because I was almost angered with him, and said that maybe fasting with the slaver had made his mind full of forebodings.
"There was a boding in it at one time that the slaver was nigh his death, if so be that I got loose," he said. "That ended in a whipping for him. But I would that this Ethelbert had not that thin red line round his neck. It sets strange thoughts in one's head."