"You should know that," one said; and then he put his hand to his sword suddenly, adding in a sharp voice: "These be Saxons; cut them down." When hand goes to sword hilt one knows what is coming, and even as the man said his last words I was on them, and Kolgrim was not a pace behind me. The Dane's sword was out first; but I was upon him in time. His horse swerved as mine plunged forward, and I rode him down, horse and man rolling together in the roadway. Then the man to my right cut at me, and I parried the blow and returned it. Then that horse was riderless, and I heard Kolgrim laugh as his man went down with a clatter and howl. My horse plunged on for a few steps, and then I turned. Kolgrim had one horse by the bridle, and was catching that which had fallen. I caught the other, and so we looked at each other. "This is your luck, master," said Kolgrim. "Well," said I, "these are Danes, and I do not think they are wanderers either. Here are forage bags behind the saddles. One would say that they were on the march if this were not mid-winter and time of peace. The horsemen in advance of a host, or the like." Then Kolgrim said: "Where has the other man gone? I had forgotten him for the moment." "Bide here and see if any poor farm folk are yet alive," I said. "I will ride after him." So I gave the horse I was holding to my comrade, and went back quickly down the lane to where Osmund and the other two were. The man I sought was speaking with the jarl, whose face was white and troubled. Harek was looking red and angry, but on Thora's face was written what I could not understand--as it were some fear of a new terror. Now it was plain that all three were very glad of my coming; but the stranger looked round for a single glance, and then went on speaking to Osmund. "Be not a fool, jarl," he said angrily. "Here is your chance; let it not slip." "I tell you that my word shall not be broken," Osmund replied, very coldly and sternly. "What say you, girl?" the man said then, turning to Thora. "Short shrift will be the jarl's when Alfred finds that we are on him." But Thora turned away without a word, and then the Dane spoke to me: "Here! you are another hostage, I suppose." "I am not," I answered. "Well, then, here is Jarl Osmund, if you know him not, and he is one. Tell him that what I say is true, and that Chippenham town will be burned out tonight king and all." I saw that the Dane, seeing that I was armed, and not clad in the Saxon manner altogether, took me for one of his own people. And from his words it was plain that some of the Danish chiefs had broken away from Guthrum, and were making this unheard-of mid-winter march to surprise Alfred. Most likely they were newcomers into Mercia, and had nought to do with the Exeter host. "Maybe it is true," I answered; "but I am no Dane." He laughed loudly.