“She went with Sigurd the skald we know not whither,” answered one of them. “To thee, maiden, she bade us say that as she had obtained the jewel, she had kept her word, and sent thee from the hand of Hakon Jarl, so that thou mightst not have to lead him to thy king. Also she bade us say to thee that naught else of thine adornment was touched save the jewel only. Behold the chain which the jarl gave thee; the bracelet, and thy other ornaments are untouched.” “Tell me where we are and whither we go?” cried the girl eagerly. “We go into Devonshire to join Hubba, who hath wintered in Demetia, and now cometh into the land of the Saxon from the west. It draws near the time for the feast of the spring. Then will the Northman sweep over the whole of the land, and finish that which he hath so well begun.” Egwina groaned. And none was there to warn the king. “See,” she said to the women taking from her throat the chain which the jarl had given her; “here is this, and the bracelet also. Both are of much value. Ye shall have them if ye will let me go from ye unmolested.” The women shook their heads, and the one who had done the speaking spake again: “We durst not let thee from us. Of that did the seid woman bid us beware. Neither doth it lie in our power so to do, for the Northmen are on every hand. See for thyself.” Egwina looked, and her heart sank as she beheld the long line of horsemen and men on foot before and behind. Many carts were there filled with women and children, and the supplies of the Danes. Everything gave evidence of preparations for a long march. Burying her face in her hands, Egwina resigned herself to the inevitable. The march was long and of several days’ duration. At last they came to the extreme western part of Devonshire. Here they were greeted by another large party of Norsemen under the renowned Hubba, one of the sons of Ragnar Lodbrock. The Saxons fled in terror at their approach. Some few, taking their wives and children with them, repaired to the castle of Kynwith. The Danes followed after these last rapidly, and, seeing that the castle was impregnable, would not risk an attack upon it, but sat down before it in a camp, hoping thus to make the Saxons surrender either from famine or want of water; for there was no spring near the castle. Vainly did Egwina seek to join the Saxons in the castle. Her every movement was watched, and she was forced to abandon the idea. Listlessly she mingled with them, listening apathetically to their songs. Often did they try to force her to join in their mirth and gladden their hearts by music, but she looked at them with unsmiling face and would not sing. Thus the days passed. The pagans waiting only for the surrender of the castle which they thought must come soon through the dire necessity of the Christians.