e on the point of taking to the woods
again, when I thought I caught the sound of the word of command in the
English tongue, and the voice seemed familiar.

We advanced still cautiously amongst the ruins, until we saw fifty or
sixty horsemen cross the wooden bridge which the Danes had left
uninjured, and advance with horror-stricken faces.

They were my brother and his men.

I recognised Elfwyn amongst them. I rushed up to him, and our tears
mingled together.

"They are safe, are safe," I cried.

"Thank God!" broke from many an overcharged heart.

"But where are they? where are they?"

"Safe at the forest farm, protected by brake and morass; and now tell
me, how came you here?"

Tidings arrived at headquarters that a small party of Danes were
making an incursion into Mercia, riding as rapidly as they could, and
I obtained Edric Streorn's leave to pursue them, with great difficulty
I can tell you, and he would only allow me then to take fifty men.

"He affected to disbelieve the intelligence, and said sarcastically
that the safety of Wessex could not be neglected for Aescendune. The
Northmen would never hurt a place which had so distinguished itself on
St. Brice's day."

Here he sighed heavily.

"Elfwyn," I said, "my brother, we must not be ungrateful to God. Here
are ruins indeed, but they cover no dead bodies; all have escaped."

"No, Cuthbert, not all."

I was silent, for I thought of Bertric.

"We have buried him, Cuthbert, in God's peace, in the place he
hallowed by his blood."

I saw the tears stream down his manly cheeks. My voice grew so hoarse,
somehow, that I could not ask a question.

"I will tell you all we have seen by and by, not now. I could not bear
it;" and he covered his face with his hands.

"How did he die?" I stammered at last.

"Like St. Edmund."

I asked no more, but I hope the martyr will forgive me the tears I
shed. I know I ought to rejoice that he has gained his crown, but I
cannot yet. I shall be able some day.

"How could they find the path through the woods, Cuthbert?" asked my
brother; "how did they know the fords?"

The same question had occurred to me.

Then the words of the churl Beorn, who had been taken prisoner, as the
messenger had told us, came fresh to my mind.

"Elfwyn," said I, "do you remember Beorn?"

He looked earnestly at me.

"Did he not say that his captors asked particularly about Aescendune,
and that the name of Anlaf was mentioned, and i