“But the heathen are everywhere, and I should but cumber you.”
“Madame, you talk like a fool.”
There was a sheer sincerity about the speech that pleased Igraine. His spirit seemed to overtop hers, and to silence argument. Proud heart! yet without thought of debate she gave way in the most placid manner, and was content to be shepherded.
“I might walk at your stirrup,” she said meekly.
The man seemed to ponder. He merely looked at her with dark, solemn eyes, showing a quiet disregard for her humility.
“Listen to me,” he said, “you, a woman, must not attempt Anderida alone. The town will be beleaguered, or I am no prophet. To Anderida I cannot go, for I have folk at Winchester who wait my coming. If you can put trust in me, and will ride with me to Winchester, you will find harbour there.”
She considered a moment.
“Winchester,” she said, “yes, and most certainly I trust you.”
The man stretched out a hand to her with a smile.
“God willing,” he said, “I will bear you safe to the place. As for your frocks and vows, they must follow necessity, and pocket their pride. It will not damn you to ride before a man.”