So I went on.
Now, at last, was I but a mile or two from Stert, and began to wish to
meet one to whom to give the arrow--but saw no man. I turned aside to
a little cluster of thralls' and churls' huts I knew. There were no
people there, and one hut was burnt down. Afterwards I heard that they
had been deserted by reason of some pestilence that had been there; but
now it seemed like a warning to do the duty that had been thrust on me.
Then at last I remembered the prophecy of the old hermit--and my heart
bounded within me--for, indeed, unlooked for as this was, surely it
was like the beginning of its working out.
Now would I go through with it, and on the head of Matelgar be the blame
were I slain. Known was I by name to the messenger who gave me the
arrow, and to those thralls, and known therefore would my going to
Matelgar be.
Nevertheless, when I went down that path that I have spoken of, toward
the hall, looking to meet with one at every turn, my heart beat thick
enough for a time, till a great coolness came over me and I feared nought.
Yet must I turn aside one moment to lock into that nook where Alswythe
and I had met, but it was empty. I knew that it must be so at that hour,
but I was of my love constrained to go there.
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