She pondered the matter for a time, then throwing the ribbon of the harp over her shoulder went on her way. It was evening when she entered the courtyard of a manor, and proceeded to the mead hall. Waiting until all had sung or contributed their portion to the glee, the maiden began a song. In the midst of it there came the noise of horses’ hoofs from without, and a voice vociferously demanded admission. The wassail and glee were suspended while every one looked curiously at the men who entered. The group consisted of several Saxons; among them, Oswald the thegn, Ælfric the juggler, Edwy the gleeman, and others. “Now what seek ye, friend Oswald, that so unmannerly ye do enter our castle?” cried the thegn of the manor. “Yon maiden,” said Oswald pointing at Egwina. “Last night, and the night before, she sang in my hall at the glee. Laden with gifts did I send her forth, but that did not suffice. With covetous eyes she looked upon the harp of Edwy the gleeman, and that hath she taken with her. We come that we may take her to the reeve that the doom may be pronounced upon her.” “That girl?” The thegn and the retainers looked at the maiden in surprise. “She looks not as if she would do so base a thing.” “And neither would I!” spake Egwina, recovering from the consternation into which Oswald’s speech had thrown her. “Good Oswald, didst thou not send thine bond-woman to me with this harp as additional gift after I had left thine abode?” “Marry, no! Why should Oswald take that which belongeth to another to give thee? Hath he not wealth enow of his own?” “But didst thou not send the woman to me?” faltered the maiden. “A likely story,” cried Ælfric the juggler. “Is it the custom for a lord to run after a gleemaiden with his gifts? I trow not!” A loud guffaw from the Saxons in the hall greeted this remark. Poor Egwina was covered with confusion. “But truly my lord,” said she, addressing Oswald, “a woman did bring it and give it me.” “Maiden,” said Oswald sorrowfully, “add not to theft the vice of lying. Of both sins the Scripture doth warn us.” “But I speak the truth,” cried Egwina, clasping her hands. “I speak the truth, my lord, as I live by bread.” A look of compassion overspread over the thegn’s face. “Fair art thou, maiden! Too fair to utter such words. Evil hath been thy surroundings if so innocent looking a maiden shouldst so perjure herself.” “To think that the jade would say that my lord would give away the harp of his gleeman,” spoke Edwy. “Saw ye not, Ælfric, with what longing eyes she gazed upon it?” “I saw,” answered Ælfric. “Nought remaineth but to take her to the gerefa. Let him pronounce doom upon her.” There was so much of malignity in his tone that Egwina looked at him, and seeing with what cruel triumph he gazed upon her, knew in her inmost soul that it was Ælfric who had caused this thing.