. Here the ealdorman Elfric met him
with a large English army; but when he saw the foe he fell sick, or
feigned to be so; and then the old proverb came true, "When the
general fails, the army quails." So the English looked on with fear
and trembling, while Sweyn burnt Wilton and Salisbury, whence he
returned to the sea laden with wealth and stained with blood; yet was
not his revenge satisfied.

The following year East Anglia suffered as Wessex had suffered the
year before. Ulfketyl, the ealdorman, gave them much money, hoping to
buy peace from the merciless pagans. The result was as he might have
expected. They took the money, laughing at his simplicity, and three
weeks afterwards pillaged Thetford, and burnt it. Then Ulfketyl, who
was a brave man, got an East Anglian army together, and fought the
Danes, giving them the uncommon chastisement of a defeat, so that they
escaped with difficulty to their ships.

The following year a famine so severe visited England, that even the
Danes forebore to ravage so poor a land; but in 1006, the next year,
they overspread Wessex like locusts. Here the action of our tale is
resumed.

During this interval of four years in Aescendune there had been peace.
Alfgar had been domesticated as one of the family, and was reported
well of in all the neighbourhood. Diligent in the discharge of his
religious duties, he was equally conspicuous in all warlike sports and
exercises and in the chase, while he afforded much help to Elfwyn the
thane in the management of the estate. In short, he had won his way to
the hearts of all the family; and perhaps the report that he was the
accepted suitor of the fair daughter of Aescendune, Ethelgiva, was not
without foundation.

Ethelgiva was nearly his own age, and was a perfect type of that
beauty which has ever distinguished the women of the Anglo-Saxon race.
Her fair hair, untouched by artificial adornment, hung like a shower
of gold around her shoulders, while her eyes were of that delicate
blue which seemed to reflect the deep summer sky; but the sweet
pensive expression of her face was that which attracted nearly all who
knew her, and made her the object of general regard.

Bertric was now about sixteen--a handsome, attractive boy, full of
life and fire, yet still possessing that devotion which Father
Cuthbert had remarked in him as a boy of twelve. As the heir to the
lands of Aescendune, and the only son, he would have been in much
danger of bein