That troubled me more than enough, as may be supposed, for what the need of Hilda might be I could not tell. And what I should have done next I can hardly say, for I was beginning to think of going and asking to see her; so that it was as well that as I stood in the deep porch I turned at the sound of hasty footsteps, and saw Selred coming to me from out of the building. He had passed through our lodging to the church as he had gone. His look was grave and full of care, but not more than it had shown before he left us. "I have seen none of the ladies," he said. "The palace is in a turmoil, and Offa has shut himself up, seeing but one or two of his thanes, in grief for what has been done, as men say, and as may be hoped. Nor will Quendritha see any one, or let her attendants pass from her bower and its precincts." "Father," I said, "I have had a token from the Lady Hilda to say that she is in sore need of help." And with that I told him of our talk yesterday in the little wood, and of the coming of the page to me. "I do not know what this may mean," he said gravely. "They say that the poor Princess Etheldrida is overborne with grief, so that they fear for her life. I thought that Hilda was with her; but this would suggest that she is not. Yet all the ladies of the court are within the bower." Now there was a stir round the great gates, and a little train of clergy came through them, with a few lay brothers, who led mules laden with packs, after them. The whole party were dusty and wearied, as if they had come from far on foot; and indeed only one of all the dozen or so was mounted, and that was a man who rode, cloaked and hooded, in their midst on a tall mule. Before him the weariest looking of all the brothers carried a tall brazen cross. "The archbishop," said Selred. "He has not turned back, or maybe the news has not yet reached him." This was Ealdwulf, the Mercian Archbishop of Lichfield, and he had come for the wedding from his own place. He was a close friend of the king, who indeed had wished that Mercia should not be second to any realm, and had so wrought that an archbishop's see had been made for him, subject to neither Canterbury nor York. I suppose that somewhere men had been on the watch for him, for now came the clergy of the palace to meet him, two by two, with the chaplain of the king at their head. They came and bent before him, and he blessed them with uplifted hand; and then I think that the first word of what had befallen was told to him, for as the chaplain rose and spoke to him the archbishop started somewhat and knit his brows. Nor did he offer to dismount as yet, but sat on his mule, seeming to question those before him, while his clergy gathered round him as close as they dared, listening. The men who had been hurrying about the courtyard had stayed their footsteps, and there was a strange silence while the bad news was told.