“No, no,” answered Egwina. “This is my brother, my king.”
“Thy brother?” and Alfred looked his surprise. “I knew not that thou hadst a brother, little one.”
“Nor did I know until but a short time since,” returned Egwina. Briefly she recounted the incidents which led to their finding each other.
“It was the providence of God that brought ye to each other,” said the king, piously. “Grievously have we mourned for thee, little one. We knew not why thou shouldst have left us. Now that I have found thee, thou shalt not leave us again. Thy brother shall be of us also. Tell me of thyself,” and he turned abruptly to Siegbert.
Siegbert told his story, with which we are already familiar.
“Thoughtful is thy brow, and thine eye glows with the light of a scholar,” declared the king, regarding the young man with interest. “Thou dost please me well, Siegbert, and agreeable to me will be the task of training thy mind. In a few days we will go together to the palace.”
Egwina looked at Siegbert with a distressed face. Siegbert spoke boldly, resigning without a pang the enticing prospect opened up before him, for the sake of that dear sister: “My lord king, prithee do not press us. Thy graciousness warmeth the heart, but we are not of gentle blood, and unbecoming to us would be the ways of the court.”
“And thou carest naught for wisdom and learning?” cried Alfred, regarding him with surprise. “Hath my ken of men failed me now?”
A light flashed into Siegbert’s eyes, but, loyal to his sister, he opened his lips to deny the desire that possessed him when the king said, smilingly: “There seemeth a paradox. Thy words belie thy looks, friend Siegbert. Gainsay it not that thou dost long for learning.”
“I do not gainsay it, my lord,” answered the young man in a low voice.