"Will you tell me if I am heading you into danger?" she said.
"What danger is possible?" I answered. "There are no Saxons here yet."
"Not one?" she said meaningly. "I may be wrong--it does seem unlikely but I think you do not belong to us. Your speech is not like ours altogether, and your helm is gold encircled, as if you were a king."
"Lady," I said, "why should you think that I am not of your people? Let us go on to the jarl."
"Now I know that you are not. Oh, how shall I thank you for this?"
Then she glanced at my helm again, and drew a sudden little quick breath.
"Is it possible that you are Alfred of Wessex? It were like what they say of him to do as you have done for a friendless maiden."
Then she caught my hand and held it in both of hers, looking half fearfully at me.
"Lady," I said, "I am not King Alfred, nor would I be. Come, let us hasten."
"I will take you no further," she said then. "Now I am sure that you are of the Northmen that were seen with the Saxons. You are not of us, and I shall lose you your life."