I do not know whence she comes." Now it seemed to me that the man had more in his mind than that, and at least that there must be some talk about the place, which is small enough to make the doings of everyone the talk of each one else.
"Where do men say she lives ?" I asked therefore.
The man looked doubtfully at me, but he could see that I was not angry.

So he smiled foolishly, and answered: "We say nought, lord.

Danes hear everything in some way." "Well, you can tell me safely enough." "We think it is witchcraft of the old dame's, and that she and the lady Hertha live with the White Lady in the mere of Wormingford." Then I was fain to laugh, for it was witchcraft more than even Gunnhild could compass, by which she might find refuge in the depths of that bottomless mere where the White Lady dwells.

The place has an ill name enough among our folk, and even on a bright summer day, when all the margin of the wide circle of water is starred with the white lilies, I have known silence fall on those laughing ones who plucked the flowers, so still and dark are the waters, and so silent the thick woods that hem the mere round under the shadow of the westward hill that hides the sunset.

No man cares to go near the mere when darkness has fallen, so much do our people fear to see the White Lady of whom Brand spoke.
I feared her not, for she was a lady of our own race, who was drowned there by the wild Welsh folk in some raid of theirs when we Angles first came from the land beyond the seas and drove them out.
Ours was the clan of the Wormings--I bore the badge of the twining snake myself today, marked on my left arm, as had all my fathers before me--so ford and mere were named after us, and we were proud of the long descent, as I have said.