“The two jarls Sidroc were appointed to guard the rear and the baggage over the rivers. As they were passing the Neu, after the rest of the army, two cars laden with wealth and property, with all the cattle drawing them, were overturned at the left of a bridge into a whirlpool. While all the attendants of the younger Sidroc were employed in recovering what was possible of the loss, I stole away unperceived and ran into the nearest wood. All night I walked. I was footsore and weary, but I was upheld by the hope of seeing again the monastery and getting away from the Dane. The wolves molested me not. They, too, seemed filled with fear of the dread pagan, and remained hidden in their lairs. At dawn I reached the monastery. It was still burning. The younger brothers who had fled to the fens had returned and were fighting the flames. They took me and did comfort me. But woe and well-a-day! we were again compelled to fly by news of the approach of the Northmen. I wot not how it happened, but I strayed from or was left behind the rest in the fens. For two days I wandered in the marshes, unwitting where to go. Then did a Dane find me and bring me to Guthrum, who, won by my fair looks, took me into his household. So that again did comeliness bring me succor.” Egwina had drawn closer and closer to the young man during the recital. Her eyes were shining, her lips parted, and she hung upon his words with an intentness almost painful. As Siegbert paused, she laid her hand upon his and asked: “Siegbert, was that monastery of which thou speakest Croyland?” “Yes,” he answered. “What was the name of thy father?” “Athelwulf, the son of Wulfhere.” “And thou didst speak of a little sister! Wittest thou her name?” Egwina was greatly agitated. Siegbert, too, was regarding her with intense eagerness. “My little sister’s name was Egwina,” cried he, full of suppressed excitement. “Look, maiden!” He tore from his chest his tunic, and pointed to his breast, where in old Saxon letters was punctured the name “Egwina.” “My grandfather did that just before I went to the convent. As he did so he said: ‘Boy, thy father and mother both are dead. Save thee and me, no kith hath the little one. Keep that name in thy heart, and live for none other until mayhap thou dost resign her into another’s keeping.’ And I sware to him an oath that it should be as he said.” “Brother!” cried Egwina, half beside herself with joy. “I am that Egwina! I am thy sister.” “My sister?” The young man stared at her for a moment, and then exclaimed: “I feel it! I know it!” and he embraced her rapturously. “We thought thee dead!” cried Egwina, through her tears. “We knew not that thou wert spared by the Danes. Granther grieved for thee always. My brother! my brother!”