"Thank me not but in one way, and that is by asking your mother to
help homeward some other lady's son when need is. And that is all I
would wish."

And the end of it was that I rode away from Chichester town on a
good horse and with change of clothes in saddlebags, and those
worthy people stood at the gate to give me good speed.

Yet that is not the end, for there are one or two who have ridden
in like sort from Reedham since that day, and have borne home the
like message; so that I know not where the ending of that kindly
deed may be.

Past the old Chichester walls I went, and out on the long line of
the Roman street that should take me to London. And as I went I
sang, for the green beechen woods were wondrous fair to me after
the long weeks of changing sea, and it seemed to me that all was
going well, so that I put away for the time the grievous thought of
my shipwreck, the one hard thing that I must face when I came home
again.

There is nothing to tell of that ride; for well armed, and rich,
and with a good horse, what should there be? And at last I came to
London town, and rode straightway to the great house of my
godfather, Ingild, that stood by London Bridge. Very strange it was
to me to look out over the Pool as I crossed, and not to see our
good ship in her wonted place, for this was the first time I had
come to London except in her.

At the door of the courtyard, round which Ingild had his great