he quadrangle to the palace which occupied
a portion of the site of modern Christ Church, when a heavy hand was
laid upon his shoulder.

He turned and saw the captain of the guard; two or three of his
officers were beside him.

"It is my painful duty to arrest you and make you my prisoner."

"On what charge?" said the astonished Alfgar.

"The murder of the king."

CHAPTER XXIV. THE ORDEAL.

The news of the murder of Edmund spread far and wide, and awakened
deep sorrow and indignation, not only amongst his friends and
subjects, but even amongst his former enemies, the Danes, now rapidly
yielding to the civilising and softening influences of Christianity,
following therein the notable example of their king, Canute, who was
everywhere restoring the churches and monasteries he and his had
destroyed, and saying, with no faltering voice, albeit, perhaps, with
a very inadequate realisation of all the words implied, "As for me and
my house, we will serve the Lord."

Ealdorman and thane came flocking into Oxenford from all the
neighbouring districts of Wessex and Mercia. The body of the lamented
monarch was laid in state in St. Frideswide's; there wax tapers shed a
hallowed light on the sternly composed features of him who had been
the bulwark of England; and there choking sobs and bitter sighs every
hour rent the air, and bore witness to a nation's grief. And there,
two heartbroken ladies, a mother and a daughter, came often to pray,
not only for the soul of the departed king, but also for the discovery
of his murderers and the clearing of the innocent, for neither Hilda
nor Ethelgiva for one moment doubted the spotless innocence of Alfgar.

They were refused admittance to the cell wherein he was confined by
Edric, who had assumed the direction of all things, and whose claim,
such is the force of impudence, seemed to be tacitly allowed by the
thanes and ealdormen of Wessex.

But Elfwyn and Herstan could hardly be denied permission to visit him,
owing to their positions, and they both did so. They found him in a
chamber occupying the whole of the higher floor of a tower of the
castle, which served as a prison for the city and neighbourhood,
rudely but massively built. One solitary and deep window admitted a
little air and light, but the height rendered all escape hopeless,
even had the victim wished to escape, which he did not.

"Alfgar, my son!" said Elfwyn, finding the poor prisoner did not
speak, "do you no