Many questions there were when Bertric's men were known.
There was a kindly-looking monk among his people, and I went to him, and brought him to the nuns where they and Uldra stood apart by themselves, while the two men were busy with their folk.
"Pax vobiscum," he said; "you shall be welcome, my sisters, at our little nunnery for tonight.

Then will we ask the bishop on the morrow what you had better do." Then they were eager to go with him, and I bade them farewell, bowing, and they turned away.

They might say nothing, according to their rule, Elfric told me, save in need.
Neither did Uldra speak, though no vow of silence was on her, but she went with them for a little way.

I was rather hurt at this, and began to go back to the boat, wondering that she had no word of farewell.
"Redwald--thane," came a gentle call in her voice, and I turned sharply.
She was close to me, and the sisters were waiting for her twenty paces or so away.
"Farewell," she said.

"I could but thank you for all your care for us." "It has been freely given, lady," I said.