"To the camp of the Franks!" Ellen and Sampso cried terrified. "That meant death!"
"And this is the being who saved my life," I said to my wife, pointing at Elwig, who stood motionless at the door. "I must bespeak the attention of you both in her behalf until to-morrow."
When they learned that I owed my life to the Frankish woman my wife and her sister hastened toward Elwig, moved by a simultaneous impulse of gratitude; but they almost immediately stopped short, intimidated and even frightened by the sinister and impassive countenance of Elwig, the priestess, who seemed not to see them, and whose mind probably hovered over scenes far away.
"Give her some dry clothes, those that she has on are wet," I said to my wife and her sister. "She does not understand Gallic; your thanks will be lost upon her."
"Had she not saved your life," Ellen said to me, "I would think the woman's face looks somber and threatening."
"She is a savage like the rest of her people. Get her some dry clothes, and I shall take her to the little side room, where I shall lock her up as a matter of precaution."
Sampso went into a contiguous room to fetch a tunic and mantle for Elwig, while I said to my wife:
"Did you hear any noise at the window of your room to-night, shortly before I came in?"
"None whatever—neither did Sampso; she did not leave me since evening; we both felt uneasy at your absence. But why do you ask?"
I did not then answer my wife, seeing that Sampso at that moment returned with the clothes that she had gone after. I took them, passed them over to Elwig and said to her: