So we did that, riding down the old Roman way to a wide, waste forest
land where none should see us turn off, and then across the forest paths
to Cabourn; and there we found the hermit, and there Havelok and
Goldberga were wedded again with all the rites of Holy Church, and the
bride was well content.

Now while that was our way, I will say what we escaped by this plan of
my brother's, though we did not hear all for a long time. Presently we
did hear what had happened at Grimsby towards this business, as will be
seen.

To Lincoln comes Griffin, with Cadwal his thane, just as we had left the
town thus by another road, and straightway he betakes himself to the
palace. There he finds Alsi in an evil mood, and in the hall the people
are talking fast, and there is no Berthun to receive him.

So, as he sits at the high table and breaks his fast beside the king, he
asks what all the wonderment may be. And Alsi tells him, speaking in Welsh.

"East Anglia is mine," he says, "for I have rid myself of the girl."

Griffin sets his hand on his dagger.

"Hast killed her?" he says sharply.

"No; married her."

"To whom, then?"

"To a man whom the Witan will not have as a king at any price."