The man I sought was speaking with the jarl, whose face was white and troubled.

Harek was looking red and angry, but on Thora's face was written what I could not understand--as it were some fear of a new terror.
Now it was plain that all three were very glad of my coming; but the stranger looked round for a single glance, and then went on speaking to Osmund.
"Be not a fool, jarl," he said angrily.

"Here is your chance; let it not slip." "I tell you that my word shall not be broken," Osmund replied, very coldly and sternly.
"What say you, girl ?" the man said then, turning to Thora.

"Short shrift will be the jarl's when Alfred finds that we are on him." But Thora turned away without a word, and then the Dane spoke to me: "Here! you are another hostage, I suppose." "I am not," I answered.
"Well, then, here is Jarl Osmund, if you know him not, and he is one.

Tell him that what I say is true, and that Chippenham town will be burned out tonight king and all." I saw that the Dane, seeing that I was armed, and not clad in the Saxon manner altogether, took me for one of his own people.