I remembered that, when I was quite little, my father once had to call out a levy against the West Welsh, and then there was great cheering as the men started.

There was none now--only the loud voice of the thane as he chided loiterers and those who seemed to straggle.
I began to think of coming down when the last had gone, but a few men from far off came running past to catch them up, and I kept still yet.
Then a great longing came upon me to join the levy and fight the Danes, if fight there should be, and I began to plan to do it in some way, yet could not see how to disguise myself, or think to whose company to pretend to belong.
The place seemed very quiet after all the loud talk and shouting that had been going on.

My father's levy had had ale in casks, and food brought out to them while they waited.

But I had seen none of that here.
Maybe, however, it was in the courtyard, I thought, and this I might see, if I climbed higher, above the palisading.
So I left my sword in the hollow, lest it should hamper me, and went up a big branch until I could see over just enough to look across to the great gate, which still stood open.

Then I forgot all about that which had made me curious, for I saw two figures in the gateway.
Alswythe stood there, talking with my friend, as I will call him ever, the old housecarle, and no one else was near them.
My first thought was to come down and run to her; but I remembered that I could but see one corner of the court, and that many more housecarles might be at hand, and waited, not daring to take my eyes from Alswythe lest I should lose her.
They were too far off for me to hear their voices, nor did they make sign or movement that would let me guess that which they spoke of; but presently the old man saluted, and Alswythe went out of the gate.
Then my heart leaped within me, for I thought, and rightly, that she sought her bower in the wood.