Whether it was the sea air, or the draught, or both, the fit did not come when next it was due; and the seaman said I was cured, for the power of the ill was broken.
He had time to say that again, for we had head winds the whole way across, and were nigh a week before we made the mouth of the great river which goes up to Norwich, where we hoped to find the king, Ethelbert.

And by that time the Franks were themselves again, and my colour was coming back, and the joy of home was on me, and we were gay enough.
It was on the last day of April that we saw the English shores again, early in the morning, with the sun on the low green hills of Norfolk.

By sunset we were far in the heart of the land, at Norwich, and across the wide river the cuckoo was calling.

We had left a leafless land, and here all was decked in the sweet green of the first leaves, and all the banks were yellow with the primroses.
I heard the Franks scoffing at the houses of the town, and at the wooden tower of the church which rose from among them; but I cared not at all, for nothing like the beauty of sky and land had they to show me beyond the sea.
And when the men thronged to the wharf, it seemed to me that never had I looked on their like for goodliness and health, as their great English laugh rang out over their work, and the sound of the English voices made the old music for me.
The king was not at Norwich, but inland at Thetford, and there we must seek him.

But his steward rode down to us from the hall, which stands a mile from the river, on its hill.