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A Thane of Wessex by Charles W. (Charles Watts) Whistler
page 31 of 240 (12%)
"Grendel or no Grendel," said the urchin, "Dudda will ask nought of his
supper."

"Why not?"

"By reason of what it was made of."

Then I remembered that a thrall might by no means slay the deer, and
that he would surely be in fear when he knew that one had found him out.
So I said to the boy:

"Grendel ate it, doubtless. Nor you nor I know what was in the honest
man's pot."

Turkil was ready to meet me in this matter, and looking roguishly at me,
gathered up the bones and put them into the kilns.

"Now must I go home," he said, when this was done, "or I shall be
beaten. But I would I had seen Grendel--though I love warriors armed
like you."

"Verily, Turkil, my friend," said I, "a stout warrior will you be if you
go on as you have begun."

Thereupon something stirred within me, as it were, and I took the urchin
and kissed him, for I had never thought to call one "friend" again.

Then I feared to let him go from me, lest the thoughts of yesterday
should come back, as I knew they would, did I give way to them. So I
told him to bide here with me till the village people came to drive away
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