So the good man strove to hearten me, for I thought meanly enough of myself at that time, because I had been so certain that all was well, and now my pride was humbled.  Maybe it was good for me that this should be so, but good things are passing bitter if all are like this.  Lastly, he gave me his blessing, and I joined the sisters in the boat, and she was cast off, while at that moment the black kitten came to the rail and leapt in after us, which I liked not at all.

Then the great ship slipped away, her helm went down, and she headed away out to sea to escape a meeting with Godwine’s vessels that had now gone about for the shore again, beating to windward for Bosham.  As she passed us I saw the abbot and Eadward wave to us from the fore deck, and Egil lifted his hand in salute from beside Bertric at the helm.

Then they were gone beyond our reach, and we could no longer make them out.  Our rowers were bending to their oars, and the boat was making good way enough, shoreward.

I do not know how I can say enough of Egil’s friendliness to me, for I found my armour on the floor of the boat alongside the few things the poor women had.  Helm and shield and axe too were there.  He was as one of the heroes, of whom Ottar sang, in his way to me.  Then I grew light hearted in that strange way that comes after long strain of fearing the worst, when the worst is known and it is not so terrible after all.  I had no fear for the queen, and I was free, and going to Godwine and his father who were my friends.  Also I should see Penhurst and Relf again, most likely.

Now when that memory came to me, suddenly I thought that I must see Sexberga.  And it was strange to me that I had no pleasure in that thought.  Most of all I hoped that Olaf would put in at Pevensea on his way to Normandy.  It was likely enough.

So I sat and pondered, not sadly, but looking forward ever, and, as I say, feeling that a load was lifted from me.  Then at last my thoughts came back from myself, and I turned to the sisters and told them that the queen was safe, if a prisoner.  They need not grieve for her.  The two nuns wept, but the thane’s daughter smiled a little, and said, fondling the cat meanwhile on her lap: 

“In truth, I think that the queen will be happier in making Egil and his Danes obey her in little services than she has been in having to be guided by yourself and the abbot.”

“It has been hard for her,” I answered; “but she owes you much, as I think.”

“She hates me,” the girl said, half tearfully, “because I was the only one who dared speak plainly to her.”

“Elfric and I owe you much, Sister Sexberga,” said I, naming her as I had thought of her through all the journey, because I recalled so many times when we had looked to her for help in persuading the queen to common sense,

She looked astonished at this, and smiled oddly, and then I saw what I had done.