“Well, brother,” I said, “you have had a long job with the cook. What is the end of it all?”
“I do not know,” he answered slowly. “That is to be seen yet.”
I looked at him, for his voice was strange, and I saw that he seemed to have the same puzzled look in his eyes as he had last night when we came first into the city. I asked if anything was amiss.
“Nothing,” he said; “but this is a place of dreams. I think that I shall wake presently in Grimsby.”
We walked on, and past the straggling houses outside the stockade, and so into the fields; and little by little he told me what was troubling him.
Berthun the steward had said nothing until the palace was reached, and had led him to the great servants’ hall, and there had bidden him set down his load and rest. Then he had asked if he would like to see the place, and of course Havelok had said that he would, wondering at the same time if this was all the pay that the porters got. So he was shown the king’s hall, and the arms on the wall, and the high seat, and the king’s own chamber, and many more things, and all the while they seemed nothing strange to Havelok.
“This Berthun watched me as a cat watches a mouse all the while,” he said, “and at last he asked if I had ever seen a king’s house before. I told him that I had a dream palace which had all these things, but was not the same. And at that he smiled and asked my name. ‘Curan,’ I said, of course; and at that he smiled yet more, in a way that seemed to say that he did not believe me. ‘It is a good name for the purpose,’ he said, ‘but I have to ask your pardon for calling you by the old giant’s name just now.’ I said that as he did not know my name, and it was a jest that fitted, it was no matter. Then he made a little bow, and asked if I would take any food before I went from the place; so I told him that it was just what I came for, and he laughed, and I had such a meal as I have not seen for months. It is in my mind that I left a famine in that house, so hungry was I. There is no pride about this Berthun, for he served me himself, and I thanked him.”
Then Havelok stopped and passed his hand over his face, and he laughed a little, uneasy laugh.
“And all the while I could not get it out of my head that he ought to be kneeling before me.”
“Well,” he went on after a little, “when I had done, this Berthun asked me a question, saying that he was a discreet man, and that if he could help me in any way he would do so. Had I a vow on me? Nothing more than to earn my keep until the famine was over, I said. I had left poor folk who would have the more for my absence, and he seemed to think that this was a wondrous good deed. So I told him that if he could help me in this I should be glad. Whereon he lowered his voice and asked if I must follow the way of Gareth the prince. I had not heard of this worthy, and so I said that what was good enough for a prince was doubtless good enough for me, and that pleased him wonderfully.