The brother of Gunnehilde, Anlaf the black, had been one of the servitors of Guthrum. The king had parceled out among those of his retainers who had chosen to remain with him the lands and manors of East Anglia. Many of the wild and courageous spirits, rebelling at the restraints of a peaceful life, had retired from the coasts of Britain, seeking other fields of adventure and prowess. To these also the fact that Guthrum and many of his jarls had embraced Christianity proved galling, and so many were the manors and broad the fields assigned to those who remained. The Saxon inhabitants either submitted to their rule, and became subjects of the Danish king, or else retired into Wessex or southern Mercia. To Thetford, the capital and largest city of East Anglia, was Egwina taken. Large and extensive forests surrounded the town. Just in the edge of the woods was an open glade in which was the house where dwelt Anlaf the black. In the near distance could be seen the royal vill of Guthrum or Athelstan. The family consisted of but two members. Anlaf himself and his wife. They received the maiden with hospitality and reverence, for Egwina found that even here the greatness predicted for her by Gunnehilde had its effect. The wife of Anlaf would not permit her to assist her in her household duties, and the maiden soon found that, deprived of all employment, time began to hang heavily upon her hands. Chafing at her idleness, she began to wander in the woodland near the house, observing the caution that had been given her of not straying too far away for fear of the wolves or bears with which the forest was filled. One afternoon, she had walked somewhat farther than usual, and, feeling the need of rest, flung herself down upon the sward under the spreading branches of an oak tree. She had lain so but a short while when she heard voices. Out from among the trees there came the figures of two persons: a young man, very fair, and to all appearances a Saxon, and a girl, a Dane. Egwina sat up and surveyed the two with some curiosity which was reciprocated by the man and the girl, for they stopped and looked at her with surprise. “Come, Siegbert,” said the Danish girl, “let us advance and see who the maiden is.” She started forward as she spoke, and the young man, called Siegbert, supported her form carefully. Egwina rose, and awaited their coming, rejoicing in the fact that she was at last going to meet with some young folk near her own age. “Why, it is the skald maiden!” exclaimed the Danish girl, as she drew near to the Saxon maiden. “Hilda, daughter of Guthrum!” exclaimed Egwina in turn. “Yes; it is Hilda. What dost thou here?” cried the king’s daughter. “I thought that thou wert skald maiden to King Alfred? Thou wert with him when he entered the camp at Westbury.” “True,” answered Egwina, briefly. “Gleemaidens as well as gleemen are in many places. To-day they serve one lord; to-morrow they chant the praises of another.”