"It was a chance meeting, Thane, and I am glad to have been of use.
No need to speak of reward, for it is indeed enough to have seen
the boy home safely."

"Why, then," said my father, "I cannot have a stranger pass my hall
at this time in the evening, when it is too late to reach the town
in safety. Here you must at least lodge for the night, or Eastdean
will be shamed. Your voice tells me that you are a stranger--but
maybe you have your men waiting for you at hand? There will be room
for them also."

For there was that in the tones of the voice of this man which told
my father that here he had no common wanderer.

"I am alone," my friend said. "But your men seek the little one
even yet in the forest. Will you not call them in?"

My father looked at the man for a moment, and smiled.

"Ay, I forgot in my joy. They are well-nigh as anxious as I have
been."

Then he took down the great horn that hung by the door, and wound
the homing call that brings all within its hearing back to the
hall, and its hoarse echoes went across the silent woods until it
was answered by the other horns that passed on the message until
the last sounds came but faintly to us. I heard men cheering also,
for they knew by the token that all was well. My father had me in
his arms all this time, standing in the door.