other road. Meanwhile the English
stragglers were repeatedly cut off; and did they despatch a small
force anywhere, it was sure to fall into an ambush, and be annihilated
by the pagans.

Their repeated disasters weakened every man's heart, and gave rise to
a well-founded belief that there was treachery in their midst, and
that plans decided even in their secret councils were made known to
the Danes. What wonder, then, that they grew dispirited, and that
murmurs arose on all hands, while the army could scarcely keep
together for want of provisions?

The war was at present raging in the southern counties, but ever and
anon the marauders made a forced march, and sacked some helpless town
remote from the seat of war.

There was no prospect, Elfwyn said, of the campaign coming to an end;
the harvest must take care of itself or the women and children must
reap it. The men were all and more than all, wanted in Wessex.

There were loving messages for wife and children, and Alfgar was not
forgotten.

But there was one piece of information contained in the letter which
made Alfgar very uneasy, and reminded him of his dream.

One Boom, a retainer of Elfwyn, had been taken prisoner by the Danes,
and by a very uncommon piece of good fortune had escaped with life
from his ferocious captors. He stated that he had been closely
examined concerning his home, character of the population, and their
means of defence, especially as to the events of St. Brice's night.
Although he strove to evade their questions, yet he incautiously, or
through fear of torture, revealed that he came from Aescendune.

The name evoked immediate interest, and he was asked several further
questions about the destruction of Anlaf's house, and what became of
his son. He tried to baffle their inquiries, and thought he had
succeeded.

These facts the Lady Hilda thought of sufficient importance to justify
their communication to Alfgar. They caused her some anxiety.

The messenger returned to the army. Weeks passed away, and the women
and children, as well as the old men, were all busy in getting in the
bounteous harvest with which this year God had blessed the earth.
Alfgar and Bertric worked like the theows themselves, and slowly the
precious gifts were deposited in the garners.

Alfgar had one source of consolation in the love he bore to Ethelgiva,
a love which was fully returned. Their troth had been pledged to each
other with the full consent of Elfwyn