“Call me Wilfred.”
“Well, Wilfred, I will tell thee her tale, and then Denewulf shall tell thee how he found the child.” And the good dame related the maiden’s story. Then Denewulf told again of the wolves, and Egwina listened blushingly to their praises.
“Of brave heart art thou, maiden,” said Wilfred with compassion in his look and voice. “Brave was thy grandfather in his death. ’Twas such that a Saxon might be proud of. ’Tis pity that the king knew not of it.”
“My grandfather would like best to know that the king were safe,” returned Egwina.
“And what art thou called, child?” asked Adiva.
“Egwina.”
“Egwina, and I shall call thee ‘the fair’ also,” said the dame.
“And I, Jamvid, mother of wolf sons,” laughed the swineherd; “for so I found her.”
“And I, noble heart,” said Wilfred. “With maidens like thee to grow into wives and mothers, the land could survive the ravaging of a thousand Guthrums.”
Egwina flushed rosy red with pleasure.