With hearty farewells the others left him, and each wended his way to his own home, promising to meet betimes on the morrow. The light came from a rude cottage, and soon the swineherd reached it. He knocked loudly on the door. It was opened quickly, and the shrill voice of a woman exclaimed:
“’Tis time thou wert coming, Denewulf! For a long while hath thy supper been waiting. Cold is it as the home of the Northman. Complain not if it be not to thy taste.”
“Nay, Adiva; I will not grumble,” returned the Saxon as he entered. “Full well do I know that the hour is later than its wont; but much hath happened to hinder me.”
“Holy Cuthbert of blessed memory!” ejaculated the woman. “What have we here?”
Denewulf unfolded the mantle from the girl as he answered:
“I have brought thee a daughter for thy loneliness, Adiva.”
“But where gottest thou her?” demanded the dame in astonishment. “I wot that I have not seen so fair a maiden in many a day.”
The Saxon laughed.
“Serve us the meat, good mother, and while we sup, I will tell thee all. Sit, maiden.”
Egwina sat down upon one of the rude benches, and looked about her. The good woman still muttering in her surprise, bestirred herself about the supper.