Egwina sat down by her grandfather while the abbot and the monks deposed. Then the reeve turned to the juggler:
“Ælfric, by these witnesses thou hast been proven to have taken the ring belonging to the maiden, and the coin and gems of the bard. Hast thou aught to answer for thyself? Why didst thou this thing? Is it not enow for the Northmen to pillage our people that they must prey upon each other?”
Ælfric was silent for a moment, and then raised his head defiantly.
“Naught can be gained by saying that I did it not, for ye have proved it. Ælfric did rob the old man of his gold, and the girl of her ring. Will ye know why? They were mine by right. Ye have dooms by which a man must pay bot if he wrong his neighbor by theft or feud; but no weregeld must he pay that takes from another his trade. Yet is not that an injury? This then have the scop and the maiden done to me: ’twas in the market at Winchester that I played with my balls and knives. The people cried up the act for they were pleased. Then, before it was time for the giving of the gifts, did this harper and his daughter come. They sang, and the throng left me. Have they not robbed me? I took that which was mine own. Had they but waited until the distribution of gifts, naught would have befallen them. I have said.”
He sat down as he spake, and a silence fell upon the company. Such a plea was unusual. There was a puzzled look upon the faces of the ealdorman and the bishop. Soon the gerefa spake:
“Natheless, Ælfric, the mulct must be paid. Little did the harper and his daughter reck that they took gifts from thee. It was but a whim of fortune, and doth not condone thy fault. Thou knowest the doom. Canst pay thy weregeld?”
Ælfric shook his head sullenly.
“Then hast thou kindred who will pay it for thee?”
But the juggler clasped his hands.
“There is none,” cried he, “that is sibbe to me. Do to me as ye will for none is there to pay the bot.”