e judged by their
light, but no such compromise in belief was possible then.

"There is no salvation save in the Church," he said, sorrowfully
enough.

"Then where are they--in hell?"

Alfgar was silent.

"What was good enough for them is good enough for me, and for that
matter for you, too. I should be more comfortable there with them than
with your saints and monks; at all events, I will take my chance with
my forefathers, cannot you do the same?"

"They did not know all I do."

"All fudge and priestly pratings, begotten of idleness and dreams.
Valhalla and Niffelheim are much more reasonable; at all events they
are parts of a creed which has made its followers the masters of the
world."

"This world."

"The next may take its chance, if there is one, of which I by no means
feel sure. You are throwing away the certainty of pleasure and glory
here for an utter uncertainty; those rewards you will gain by
submission are at your feet to take up; those you will gain by a
bloody death only exist in the imaginations of priests."

"'Eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, but He hath revealed them to
us by His Spirit,'" said Alfgar in a low voice.

His father was silent; the words struck him like a strain of weird
music; but he did not yield the point, save for the time, and after a
pause changed the subject.

"You have other motives than heavenly ones. You love a Christian
maiden."

"How do you know that?" said Alfgar, blushing to the temples.

"I have lain near you at night, and you talk in your dreams. Now, I
have yet another motive to put before you. You think you have cause to
love the Aescendune people, because they saved your life. I think I
have cause to hate them, because they made you a Christian. Now, if
you die in your superstition, when we invade Mercia they shall suffer
for it."

"They have suffered enough."

"Nay, only in buildings, which they will restore. I will pursue them
with unrelenting vengeance, with the death feud, till I have destroyed
the accursed race utterly."

"Father!"

"If you would save them," said Anlaf, who saw he had made an
impression, "renounce your Christianity, and I will forget
Aescendune."

Here he left the tent.

The days which followed were, it may be imagined, very uncomfortable
ones for Alfgar; but he was not destitute of occupation. It was his
father's wish that he should join the youth of the camp in athletic
and warlike exercises. This he had no object