And her words were so sweet and gracious that even the old warrior could not find wherewith to answer her, and we both bowed our heads in thanks, and rode, one on each side of her, in silence.
Then she must ask Wulfhere what he would do when she was safely bestowed.

And that was a plain question he could answer well.
"Truly, lady, if you will give me leave, I would see Heregar, our master, through whatever comes of his messages." Then was I very glad, and the more that, though I might not think myself such, the old warrior would call me his master, for that told me that he had full belief in me.
Yet I could but say: "Friend should you call me, Wulfhere, my good counsellor, not master." And I reached out my hand to him, bowing to Alswythe, whose horse's neck I must cross.

And Wulfhere took it, and on our two rough hands Alswythe laid her white fingers, pressing them, and, looking from one to the other, said: "Two such friends I think no woman ever had, or wiser, or braver.

Go on together as you will, and yet forget not me here in Glastonbury." Then we loosed our hands, looking, maybe, a little askance, for our Saxon nature will oft be ashamed, if one may call it so, of a good impulse acted on, and Wulfhere said that we must think of those things hereafter.
When we came to the gate there was a little crowd following us, for word had gone round in some way that we were fugitives from Parret side.

But Wulfhere had bade the men answer no questions till we had seen the bishop, lest false reports should go about the place.