“Brother,” said Wulfhere to him, more in sorrow than in anger, “I knew not before that a gleeman would deal with another as a pagan might.” But Ælfric answered not a word.
A report of the matter was laid before the sciregerefa, the reeve or sheriff of the county, and Wulfhere, Egwina, the abbot, and such of the monks that knew of the affair, were summoned before him.
In the presence of this man, the bishop, and the ealdorman, Wulfhere accused the juggler of the theft.
“In the Lord,” said he, “do I urge this accusation with full right, and without fiction, deceit, or any fraud; so from me was stolen the gold and gems which my craft had brought me, and of this do I complain. Also from my granddaughter was taken a ring. These things were found again with Ælfric the juggler.”
Then the gerefa proceeded to examine the several persons. Ælfric looked upon Egwina with aversion as the maiden gave her simple account of the loss of her ring and the subsequent occurrences.
“I know no more,” concluded she, “for when I called aloud to my grandfather, the man did strike me, and I fell into a swound.”
“And this is the man?” inquired the gerefa. “Marry! Is it thus that a Saxon demeans himself?”
“Nay,” said Egwina, sweetly, “I would not take oath that it was he, good gerefa; for it was dark, and I could not see. Mayhap he meant only to affright me.”
The gerefa, the ealdorman, and even the bishop smiled at this artless attempt to shield the fellow.
“He doth not deserve thy pity, maiden,” said the sheriff gently. “I misdoubt not that he is the man sith the booty was found upon him. Thou needst say no more.”