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.