Whereupon he vanished, though the white horse yet remained for a little, before it, too, was gone.
Well, thought I, Grendel the fiend was I but the other day, and now I am to be a saint.

And with that I could not restrain myself, but laughed as once before I had laughed at this same man, for the very foolishness of the thing.

Yet I might not let Alswythe know that I laughed, and so could not let it go as I would, and I saw that Wulfhere was laughing likewise, silently.
Now this is not to be wondered at, though it was but a little thing maybe.

For we had been like a long-bent bow, overstrained with doubt and anxiety, and, now that we were in safety with the lady, it needed but like this to slacken the tension, and bid our minds relieve themselves.
So that laugh did us both good, and moreover took away some of the downcast look from our faces when next we spoke to our charge.
When he could speak again, Wulfhere answered the man, still smiling.
"Aye, man, I saw him.

And he was wondrous like Heregar, our master, here." And at that the collier stared at me, and then said: "There be painted saints in our church.