and pressed on him yet more fiercely, wounding him a little in the
shoulder; and he cried out for help--for the men who came were
close on us--and the well-cast noose of a rope fell over my
shoulders, and I was jerked away from him well-nigh choked.

Two men ran past me and took Beorn, throwing up his sword with
their quarterstaves, and it seemed to me that it was done over
gently. Then they bound us both and set us on the ground face to
face.

"Now here be fine doings!" said a man, who seemed to be the leader
of the six or seven who had ended the fight.

"Aye, 'tis murder," said another, looking from Beorn to me and then
to Beorn again; "but which is murderer and which true man?"

Now all these men were strangers to me, but I knew one thing about
them from their dress. They were the men of mighty Earl Ulfkytel
himself, and seemed to be foresters, and honest men enough by their
faces.

"I am Wulfric, son of Elfric of Reedham," I said. "The slain man is
Lodbrok, the Danish jarl, and this man slew him."

"He lies!" cried Beorn. "It was he who slew him, and I would
revenge myself on him, for this Lodbrok was my friend."

Now I held my peace, keeping back my wrath as well as I might, for
I began to see that Beorn had some deep plot on hand, thus to
behave as if innocent.