The obstacle in the way was
nothing less than a royal detachment drawn up in waiting beside the road.
Elfgiva's frown relaxed; for the first time in many days she let the liquid
music of her laughter trickle forth. "Be blithesome in your minds, maidens!"
she called gayly over her shoulder. "Friends are at hand to take charge of
us."
Taking into consideration what they had expected, the attention was so
flattering that at first they scarcely dared believe it; but its truth was
proved the moment Thorkel turned his head and saw them coming. At his command,
the line of gilded helms quickly drew out across the road in a barrier which
once more dammed the human stream to overflowing. A break in the middle
allowed the party from Gloucester to filter through; then the opening closed
behind them; the line bent at either end, and they moved as between walls,
guarded against any further jostling or rude contact. Elfgiva sparkled with
delight and greeted the Tall One with more affability than she had ever before
deigned his gruffness.
"Since my royal lord came not himself to meet us," she said graciously,--and
pushing her hood entirely back so that he might get the full benefit of her
face, "he has well honored us in his messengers, than whom no persons could be
more welcome. I pray you, tell me without delay how it stands with his health
and his fortunes.
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