ies.

So the two armies met together. The men of Hampshire, who had followed
the Dane, were welcomed as returning to their true allegiance by their
countrymen; and Edmund did violence to his feelings by receiving Edric
to his council board, if not to his friendship.

It was a joyous day when Edmund approached London, and thus fulfilled
the promise of his coronation. Canute, who had made another attempt on
the city, fled before him, but hovered around until two days later.
Edmund engaged him the third time at Brentford, and defeated him
again. Then Edmund retired into Wessex to raise more troops, and
during his absence the Danes took the offensive again, once more
besieging London in vain, while they harried all the neighbouring
districts until Edmund returned with a large army, drove them into
Kent, and gave them such a fearful defeat at Otford that they fled in
despair to the Isle of Sheppey, and all men said Edmund would have
destroyed them utterly, had not Edric persuaded him to stop the
pursuit at Aylesford.

The Danes soon emerged again, and, crossing the Thames, commenced
plundering Essex, when Edmund and Edric, with all the flower of the
Anglo-Saxon race, advanced to meet them once more. Nearly all the men
of note in England followed Edmund's banner, for, now that his
abilities were proved, there was a general enthusiasm in his favour.
So all the rank and title of the realm stood by him when he drew up
his army hard by the little river Crouch, near Assingdun, in Essex,
then called Assandun.

There, by his side, when the tents were pitched the evening before the
battle, stood many a brave ealdorman,--Godwin of Lindsey; Ulfketyl,
the hero of the East Angles; Ethelweard, the son of the pious
Ethelwine, whom men called the "Friend of God." And present at that
last banquet were Ednoth, the bishop of Dorchester, and other
ecclesiastics, who had come to pray for the host and to succour the
dying with ghostly aid. Well nigh all the great men of England were
here. But Edric supped in their midst. Their spirits were high that
night, and while Edmund drank to their success on the morrow, each man
responded with a fervour which augured confidence in that morrow's
issue--all save the wicked Edric, whose heart seemed far from his
words.

The events of that fatal morrow are matter of history. The armies
joined battle. Victory seemed to favour Edmund. The Danes were already
giving way, when Edric turned and fled, with his