The guard turned these back at
the gate, and Havelok went through, and I could see him no more.
Presently the crowd drifted back to their places, and I heard them
talking. Havelok and his strength was likely to be a nine days' wonder
in Lincoln, and I was glad that I had asked him not to say whence he was.
"He is some thane's son who is disguised," said one.
"Maybe he is under a vow," said another; and then one chimed in with a
story of some prince of Arthur's time, by name Gareth, who hid his state
at his mother's command.
"As for me," said the baker, "I think that he is a fisher, as he looks
--at least, that is, as his clothes make him."
So even he had his doubts, and I will say that I understood well enough
now why my father never brought him here before.
Havelok was long in coming back, as I thought, and I seemed to be
wasting time here, and so I bethought me of the other man to whom the
old dame had said we might go--namely, the captain of the gate. I
should see Havelok if I stood there.
The captain was talking with some of his men as I came up, and of course
it was of Havelok that they spoke; and seeing that I wore the same dress
as he, they asked me if I knew who he was.
"He is a fisher from the coast," I answered. "I have heard him called
Curan."
"Welsh then," the captain answered, somewhat disappointed, as it seemed.
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