ew lamps or lights of any kind, in those days, for
public use) was intense, a drizzling rain was falling, and at length,
weary, wet, and dispirited, he returned to the palace, and found that
the council, tired of waiting, had at length broken up.

The bishop offered him hospitality, evidently sympathising with his
distress, and once suggested a doubt of the fidelity of his page, but
Edmund repelled it instantly.

"He is true as life," he said.

"But the king himself is witness that Edric has not left his
presence."

"If not, he has plenty of villains about him to anticipate his orders,
vile as Godwin, port-hund of Shrewsbury. Depend upon it they have
murdered him, but if so, I will have vengeance, such vengeance--I will
challenge the villain Edric to single combat."

"The Church would forbid it."

"Do you then sympathise with the hypocrite?"

"Alas, my son! who can read the heart of man? I know not what to
think."

"But you could read the history of the last campaign. A fool might--I
beg pardon--were not all our plans known beforehand? Did not all our
enterprises fail? Were not all our ambushes anticipated? Did we not
fall into all theirs? If they had had a prophet like Elisha, who told
the king of Israel all Benhadad said in his council chamber, they
couldn't have managed better. Can you explain this?"

"No, my son."

"Then I can, for I heard Sweyn say that they had a friend in the
English camp."

"Then you actually put your head in the lion's mouth, prince?" and the
good bishop, purposely to relieve the prince's mind, drew out from him
all the story of his late adventures.

Deep was the distrust which Ednoth himself entertained of the
fair-speaking Edric, yet he would not encourage the Etheling in
further ill-timed opposition to his father.

So at last Edmund slept, and trusted that with the morn he should find
Alfgar; but the morn came, and all his inquiries were vain.

The chamber in which Alfgar was confined contained a box-like recess
for the straw bed, a chair, and a rough table, and these were all the
comforts at his disposal, but they were enough for one in that hardy
age. It was very strongly built, not a loose plank about it, although
the wind found its way through numerous crevices, to the slight
discomfort of the inmate.

But not one hour of sleep could Alfgar take all that night. What would
the Etheling think of him? was his constant thought, he who had saved
his life at the risk of hi