“True; but it was to please her that I called her thus. Her own child died, and she yearned for love as age crept upon her. Hence she took me to dwell with her.” “And so thou art not Gyda’s daughter?” cried the woman. Egwina shook her head. “Then thou hast no claim to gold or gem that may be found?” said the woman quickly. “None,” said Egwina briefly. “Tell us where she kept them hidden,” cried the man. “I know not,” replied the maiden. “I only know that the day she died,” and a strong shudder shook her frame at the remembrance, “I came upon her as she did count some gold from a box. Did ye not see it when ye came into the room?” “Was it the room where we found ye together?” asked the man. “Yes.” “And thou has not seen aught but that?” queried he. “Naught but that,” replied the girl, wearily. “Then what doest thou here?” The woman looked so fierce that the maiden trembled. “Wife, she cannot go now. If she be not Gyda’s child, we care not if she stay until she be well. We will have it all,” spoke the man. “Yea; I will go as soon as I am able,” cried Egwina. “Prithee let me stay until then. ’Twill be but a little longer!” Reluctantly the woman consented. CHAPTER XX—ÆLFRIC’S REVENGE Egwina’s recovery was rapid. She saw that as she grew stronger, the impatience of Sweyn and Githa to have her gone increased. With her by, they feared to hunt for the treasure which Gyda had left. So one day Egwina thanked them for their kindness in caring for her, and again set forth to wend her way from mead hall to mead hall to gain good will by her singing. No longer had she harp with which to accompany herself, and sadly did the girl miss the loved instrument. Her voice had lost none of its sweetness and power, and her exceeding fairness procured for her a ready hearing; and so, in safety and peace, for the stringent laws of Alfred were such that gold bracelets might hang on the high road unmolested, she wandered from burgh to burgh. One day she found herself on the road to Winchester. Memories of when last she had seen the place crowded thick upon her. Here upon this very log had she tarried to rest with her grandfather. Here was where she first met Ethelfleda and Edward. A sob of loneliness broke from her lips as she thought of them. How long ago it all seemed! Had she ever been a member of the king’s family? What would they say if they should know that again she wandered homeless over the land? Bright and happy had been the days when with her grandfather they had sauntered leisurely from place to place. Now she was alone. A throb of self-pity filled her heart.