s, until the
glorious enthusiasm spread throughout the camp. Glorious when men
fight for hearth and altar.

Edmund looked proudly around.

"With such warriors," he said, "I need not fear Canute."

The trench and mound were completed, but the enemy did not advance. He
planted his black raven banner two miles off in the plain, arranged
his forces, and halted for the night.

"We must fight tomorrow at dawn of day," said Edmund. "Now, bid the
campfires be lighted; we have plenty of meat and bread, mead and wine;
bid each man eat and drink his fill. Men never fight well on empty
stomachs. Then return yourself to my side, and share my tent this
night; perhaps--perhaps--for the last time."

"If so, woe to England--woe!" said Alfgar. "But I have confidence that
her day of tribulation is passing from her. The blood of the martyred
saints cries aloud for vengeance on the Danes."

CHAPTER XXI. EDMUND AND CANUTE.

The watch was duly set; campfires were lighted, and joints of meat
suspended over them; barrels of wine and mead were broached, for all
the country around contributed with loving willingness to the support
of its defenders; and when hunger was appeased the patriotic song
arose from the various fires, and stirring legends of the glorious
days of old, when Danes and Norsemen fled before the English arms,
nerved the courage of the men for the morrow's stern conflict.

Around the fire kindled next the tent of Edmund sat the warrior
monarch himself, with all the chieftains, the ealdormen, and lesser
thanes who shared his fortunes.

The minstrels and gleemen were not wanting here, but none could touch
the harp more sweetly than Edmund himself; and, the banquet over, he
sang an ancient lay, which kindled the enthusiasm of all his hearers,
and nerved them to do or die, so that they longed for the morrow.

Before it was over the trumpet announced some event of importance, and
soon a messenger brought the tidings to Edmund that a large force was
advancing from the west.

All rose to look at them, not without anxiety; as yet they were far
distant, across a wild moor, but as they drew nearer, and their
standards could be more clearly discerned, it became gradually evident
that it was a reinforcement; and so it proved, for heralds, galloping
forward, announced the men of Dorsetshire.

They were most gladly received, for now the English forces were equal
in number to their adversaries, and every man felt the hope o