I would buy one for myself rather than ride one found me by the town reeve; for I had to get home to Somerset, and I would make no delay.
"Well, then," says Werbode, "let us go and see if you people have forgotten the ancient Saxon manner of horse dealing." So we went to the horse fair, and there our foreign dress drew every dealer in the place round us as soon as I had looked in the mouth of one likely steed.

After which, as may be supposed, it was not likely that I could make any choice at all; but we two sat on the bench outside the town gate, and had, I think, every horse in the fair trotted past us, whether good or bad.

And at last the noise, and to tell the truth the wrangling of the dealers, grew tiresome, and we went our way, some other buyer having taken their notice for a moment.
And then it chanced that we came to a quiet place where a man, armed and with two armed helpers, had a string of slaves for sale.
The poor folk were lying and sitting on the ground, with that dull look on them which I hate to see, and I was going to pass them, throwing them a penny as I did so.

Werbode was laughing at the ways of the horse dealers, and did not notice them; for the sight was common enough after any war of ours with Carl, when the captives who could not ransom them were sold.
And then one of them leaped up with a great cry, and hailed me by name.
"Wilfrid! Wilfrid of Weymouth!" I turned sharply enough at that call, for the last thing that one could have expected was that my name should be known here in the land of the East Angles.

And who of all whom I knew in the years gone by would name me as of Weymouth?
I had but been there as a stranger.
"Wilfrid the swimmer!" said the man, stretching his bound hands to me.
The slave trader cracked his whip and rated the man for daring to call to me thus, bidding him be silent.