Now do my bidding and go, and never will you forget that you helped an old witch with her burden." "Well, then, Mother," I said, hooking up the mail tippet across my face, "if I must go down into the town, surely I will carry that bundle." "That shall you not," she answered, dropping it again, and sitting down on it.

"Heregar the king's thane--the standard bearer--shall bend to no humbler burden than the Dragon of Wessex.

Go; and Thor and Odin strike with you." And then she covered up her face, and would look no more at me.

I thought her crazed, maybe, but a sort of chill came over me as I heard her name the old heathen gods, and I thought of the Valas of old time, and knew how here and there some of the old worship lingered yet.
However, good advice had she given, showing me the way to try my fortune in the way I wished, and after that heathenish blessing I had no mind to stay longer, for such like are apt to prove unlucky; so I bid her good even, and went my way towards the town.

After all, I thought, king's thane I was once, and may be again; and to bear the standard must be won by valour, so that, too, may come to pass.