"Good mother, the great and high, if they are good and true, may hold out hand to the poor and gain no dishonor thereby. And those who are lowly born may take such friendship, and yet no harm be done; and so it is in this case."
"Thou hast answered well and truly, Wulnoth, son of Cerdic," the woman said; and at that Wulnoth stared, and demanded how she knew his name.
"I know many things," answered the woman, who was really old Wyborga returning from her travels to her own house. "I know many things, and this is one of them—many wonderful things."
"Tell us some more of thy wonderful things, good mother," pleaded the little Princess. "Tell us, for we are fond of wonder tales."
"Not now, little Princess," answered the wise woman; "go on with your play. And you, little Prince, when you get back home, say to your father the King that Wyborga sends him greeting, and says that the time draws nigh."
"What time, good mother?" asked Guthred curiously; but Wyborga shook her head.
"A dark time, little Prince, for thee and for thine, of which thou mayst not know now. But remember when sorrow and tears come, as come they will, that manhood and honor are better than a throne. Remember that a prince's word, and the word of every true man, must be kept, though death be the price of the keeping. Prince Guthred, remember this."
"Now truly, good mother," cried Wulnoth, "you do speak very hard things; and, truly, methinks you had little need to ask our names, seeing that without being told you have mentioned them all to us." And at that Wyborga smiled again.
But then little Edgiva drew close to her, and she again asked her of her wonder stories.
"Cannot you tell us even one?" she said; "not one about Odin or Thor and the heroes who dwell in Walhalla? For these are the most wonderful stories of all."