“Well, then, if I find you a fair wife, you would be willing, doubtless?”
“That I should not,” answered Havelok bluntly, and wondering what this crafty-looking king was driving at. “What could I do with a wife? For I have neither house nor goods, nor where to take her, nor withal to keep her; else had I not been the cook’s knave.”
“It would seem that you carry all your fortune on your back, therefore,” said Alsi, looking at Havelok’s gay attire with somewhat of a sneer.
“That may well be, King Alsi, for even these clothes are not my own. Berthun gave them me, and I think that they come from yourself.”
Alsi grinned, for Eglaf’s saying of him was not so far wrong; but he had more serious business on hand than to talk of these things with a churl.
“Now, if I bid you, it is your part to obey. I have a wife for you, and her you shall wed.”
“There are two words to that, King Alsi. Neither will I wed against my will, nor will I wed one who is unwilling.”
“As to that first,” said the king, for he began to be angered with Havelok’s boldness, “if a man will not do my bidding, I have dungeons where he can have time to think things over, and men who can keep him there, be he never so mighty; and if a man will not see with my eyes when I bid him, blinded shall he be.”
This he said somewhat hurriedly, for a dark flush came on the face of the man before him, and he thought that he must try some other plan than force with him.
“And as for that other point, I did not so much as hint that the bride was likely to be unwilling. I will say that she is willing, rather.”