Ethelfleda took charge of her impetuously.
“Hast thou kept the ring?” she asked, after she had thanked and caressed the girl.
“Yes; though once I came near losing it,” returned Egwina, showing it to her.
“Losing it? Tell me, and tell all that hath befallen thee since the people pressed us asunder,” urged Ethelfleda.
“My daughter,” spoke Alfred’s wife, “let the maiden with the others refresh herself. Then shall all tell of themselves.”
And so it was arranged. Elswitha would suffer nothing more to be said until they were rested. Then the maiden recounted all that had happened from the time she met them in the forest until the present.
“Beautiful is the chain which the Danish jarl gave thee,” said Ethelfleda, examining it. “Curiously wrought, and of pure gold. I wot that it be charmed, as many of their ornaments are.”
“Yes; the amulet, the jarl claimed, brought to the wearer the realization of every wish—” began Egwina, and then paused in some dismay, remembering Ethelred.
“It belongeth no longer to her,” laughed the youth, joining them.
“Doth it not? How does that come?” asked Ethelfleda.