Nor did he seem so; and I told him to call if but one man showed himself, and so rode back to the little party we had saved.  The man who I had seen was of rank was bending over the lady, who lay where the wild men had left her; and his unhurt servant was watching beside him.  The wounded man was sitting up and trying to bind a hurt in his thigh with a scarf, which, from its gold fringes, was plainly that of his mistress.

The thane rose up when he heard us coming, and saluted us.  He was a handsome man of sixty years or so, richly dressed, who had plainly had a bad fall when his horse went down.  There were three or four of his assailants lying where they had been round him as I came.

“Many thanks, sirs,” he said.  “It was going hard with us when you came up.  Now is no time for ceremony, or I would say more.  I do not know if my daughter lives yet.”

I dismounted, and Werbode held my horse while I went to the side of the thane and looked at his charge.  Wonderfully beautiful that young maiden seemed in the red light of the sunset, even though her face was white and her fair hair all tangled over her shoulders, and her rich dress all in tatters from the hands of the wild men.  And at first I thought that she was dead.  Then I minded that unless she had died of fright, which was possible, I had seen no harm done her beyond rough handling, while those who held her had fled from me without delay or heed to how she fell from their hands; and I knelt and tried to find the pulse in her wrist, very gently.

Her white hand fell limp and cold, but the fluttering beat was there.

“Not dead, thane, but fainting,” I said.  “Let your man get water; there is a pool yonder.”

The housecarl started toward it, but as he passed one of the helpless horses, he turned to that and brought me a horn from the saddlebags.  It had wine in it, and that was better.  The old thane tried to get some of it into the lips of the lady, and succeeded while I rubbed her hands.

And all the while Werbode had his eyes on Erling, whose gaunt form was clear against the sky as he sat still on his horse and watched the heath for the trolls to return on us.  Behind him the two hounds sat, careless.

“She is coming round,” said the thane, with a sigh of relief.

Seeing that so she was, I rose up and stood aside, not caring to be right before her eyes as she opened them, lest she should be frightened again.  Slowly she came to herself, trembling, and looking round fearful of what she might find about her.  But when she saw only her father and the man, she tried to smile and sat up, with a little clutch at her disordered dress as if she wanted to straighten it.

“That is better,” said the thane heartily.  “Those thieves have fled, and all will be well, thanks to our good friends here.”

The maiden looked round, and saw that I was a stranger, and at that the colour came back of a sudden to her cheeks, and she tried to set her hair hastily out of her eyes.  Whereat her father laughed at her, and then she was herself again.