Then I feared to frighten her with sight of an armed man in her retreat, but before I could move, she came round the bend of the path that made the place private, and saw me.
She gave a little scream, and half turned to fly, for she was alarmed, not knowing me in my arms.

And all I could do was to take off my helm and hold out my hands to her, for I could not speak her name in my joy.
Then she laid her hand to her heart, and paused and looked; and before I could step towards her, she was in my arms of her own will; so I was content.
Now how we two found ourselves sitting side by side presently, in the old place, I may hardly say, but so it was.

And I forgot all about her father and the evil he had wrought, knowing that she had no part in it, or indeed knowledge thereof.
For when we came to talk quietly, I found that she had thought me dead, and mourned for me: for Matelgar had told her that he knew nought of me.
And I would not tell her of his treachery, for he was her father, and so for her sake I made such a tale as I knew he was like to tell her, though maybe the truth would come sooner or later: how that secret enemies had trapped me, and had brought false charges against me, which none of my friends could combat, so skilfully were they wrought, and then how that I was outlawed, and must fly.
And hearing this she wept bitterly, fearing, and with reason, that I should not return.
Then I comforted her with the hermit's prophecy, saying nought of her father.

And she, sweet soul, promised that Matelgar should tend my lands and hall well till the words of the holy man came true, and I might take them back from him.

And then she added that sorely cast down and troubled had her father seemed when he rode back from the Moot that day, and doubtless it was from this.