“Have you been away from him, then?” “What! Do you not know?” “How should I know, lady?” “Yes, most true. How should Hereward know anything about Alftruda? But I will tell you. Maybe you may not care to hear?” “About you? Anything. I have often longed to know how,--what you were doing.” “Is it possible? Is there one human being left on earth who cares to hear about Alftruda? Then listen. You know when Gospatrick fled to Scotland his sons went with him. Young Gospatrick, Waltheof, [Footnote: This Waltheof Gospatricksson must not be confounded with Waltheof Siwardsson, the young Earl. He became a wild border chieftain, then Baron of Atterdale, and then gave Atterdale to his sister Queen Ethelreda, and turned monk, and at last Abbot, of Crowland: crawling home, poor fellow, like many another, to die in peace in the sanctuary of the Danes.] and he,--Dolfin. Ethelreda, his girl, went too,--and she is to marry, they say, Duncan, Malcolm’s eldest son by Ingebiorg. So Gospatrick will find himself, some day, father-in-law of the King of Scots.” “I will warrant him to find his nest well lined, wherever he be. But of yourself?” “I refused to go. I could not face again that bleak black North. Beside--but that is no concern of Hereward’s--” Hereward was on the point of saying, “Can anything concern you, and not be interesting to me?” But she went on,-- “I refused, and--” “And he misused you?” asked he, fiercely. “Better if he had. Better if he had tied me to his stirrup, and scourged me along into Scotland, than have left me to new dangers and to old temptations.” “What temptations?” Alftruda did not answer; but went on,-- “He told me, in his lofty Scots’ fashion, that I was free to do what I list. That he had long since seen that I cared not for him; and that he would find many a fairer lady in his own land.” “There he lied. So you did not care for him? He is a noble knight.” “What is that to me? Women’s hearts are not to be bought and sold with their bodies, as I was sold. Care for him? I care for no creature upon earth. Once I cared for Hereward, like a silly child. Now I care not even for him.” Hereward was sorry to hear that. Men are vainer than women, just as peacocks are vainer than peahens; and Hereward was--alas for him!--a specially vain man. Of course, for him to fall in love with Alftruda would have been a shameful sin,--he would not have committed it for all the treasures of Constantinople; but it was a not unpleasant thought that Alftruda should fall in love with him. But he only said, tenderly and courteously,-- “Alas, poor lady!” “Poor lady. Too true, that last. For whither am I going now? Back to that man once more.” “To Dolfin?” “To my master, like a runaway slave. I went down south to Queen Matilda. I knew her well, and she was kind to me, as she is to all things that breathe. But now that Gospatrick is come into the king’s grace again, and has bought the earldom of Northumbria, from Tweed to Tyne--”