Then she looked dark, and said she, “If I fly my father will be slain and thou also, Edwy.” “And if thou stayest here then surely will Feargus be slain, and Osbert will wed thee.” “Nay, that will he never.” “Once wed, Sigmund and Edwy will not be long before they follow Feargus, and then Osbert’s hand will be uppermost in the land of the Lindiswaras; for Lindesey he will join on to the land of his fathers and the house of Sigmund will be no more.” Then Torfrida wept. “Nay, do not weep, sister; if thou wilt fly with Feargus thou mayst have a good journey to the land of the Albanich, and Feargus will return again with his father’s men, and maybe our mother’s kin forbye, and they will come and smite the traitor.” “Nay, I cannot leave my father, for he hath but one daughter.” “Though he hath wronged me and driven me forth,” said Edwy, “yet do I love him; but he hath broken oath with Feargus, and hath come to break that law which is held most sacred amongst soldiers.” Much more did he say but to no purpose, and they departed for home, and Torfrida was sullen and would not speak more to Feargus that day, but wept all the way. Before they had parted Edwy took Feargus aside, and said he: “Farewell, and keep and mark well my counsel—thou must fly with my sister, and as she will not listen to our rede thou must take her without her will.” And so on the ride homewards Feargus thought of the counsel Edwy had given. Three nights afterwards, having got the Pictish tire-woman who waited upon Torfrida to keep her mistress up late, he arose at midnight, and taking four fleet horses and many other things, put an old cloak about his byrny and went and knocked softly at the gate. Then the tire-woman, who had been in the train of Torfrida’s mother, opened the door and let him in, and he found Torfrida sitting in the hall in the firelight, and when she saw him she was angered. “Now what bringeth thee here, thou tiresome fellow? Enough have I not seen of thee this day, that thou shouldst come in at midnight forsooth? Get thee hence or thou wilt have my name in the mouths of all the town’s wives.” “Torfrida, there is no rest for me here, and there is no gain to any by thy staying. Though the ways to Alban are long and full of dangers of beasts and robbers and tempests and cold and hunger and weariness, yet not more merciless or fierce are they than Osbert and thy father; for the danger of them is open and declared, but the king and his thane work ever in secret. My beasts are without; let us fly to-night.” “That will I never, and full often have I told thee so,” said she. “Get thee gone, I tell thee.” “Speak not so unkindly, Torfrida.” “Then get thee gone.” “Thou canst not love me, Torfrida.” “Get thee hence.” “Nay, tell me thou lovest me.” “I have told thee.” “Nay, tell me again or I will think that thou hast changed, so harsh is thy speech.” “I love thee—when thou dost not worry me—there.”