But her eyes looked past me, as it seemed.
"River and mere and mound," she said in a strangely soft voice--"those, and the ways of the old time of Guthrum, in the town that saw Eadmund the king.

That is what is written for the weird of Redwald the thane." Now at that I was fairly terrified, for it was plain that this old woman, who had never set eves on me before, had knowledge more than mortal.

But if she had gone so far, I would have her go yet further.

Black terror had been before the days of Guthrum grew peaceful, and I swallowed my fear of her and asked: "What of Guthrum's days ?" "Danish laws in the Danish Anglia," she said, "and the peace that comes after the sword and the torch." "Fire and sword we have had," I said.

"Danish laws have ever been ours.