d Eadward, as the king ceased:

"That is what those who love England would most hope for."

But his voice was hushed, as in the presence of one who sees beyond
this earth.

Thereat the king looked on him, and said:

"Have patience, my son, and you shall see it; aye, and you shall
have part and share therein."

After that he spoke no more, and for a time we waited beside him.
Soon he seemed to sleep, and I rose at a sign from the queen and
left his chamber. Nor did I ever see Ethelred our king alive again.
For when the morning came he had laid his heavy burdens down and
had passed to the rest that he longed for. And the bells that rang
merrily for St. George's mass ceased, and the toll for the dead
went mournfully over the city.

"Eadmund is king, God help him," men said.

So it came to pass that even as they buried the king in the great
Church of St. Paul the Danish armies were closing round the city,
and when I went to Olaf to beg him to advise me concerning the
flight of the queen, he answered:

"You and I must part, my cousin. For you had better take ship from
some quiet port, and that on the southern coast, and so make for
Normandy. But I must see the citizens through this siege, and then
I will come to you at Rouen, and we will take counsel together
again."

He would bide no longer in England after this, for the doubt of him
that Eadmund would not listen to was strong in the minds of others,
and his presence was of little use. Only the London folk and
Ulfkytel loved him, knowing him well, and holding that they owed
him much. But none knew better than Earl Ulfkytel that Olaf must
not bide here longer.

Now our scouts kept coming in with news of Cnut, and at last I
could see by which road to fly with most chance of safety. I would
go by Winchester and so to Southampton and there take ship with the
queen. Cnut's fleet would be in the Thames ere long, if it barred
not the mouth already.

But Abbot Elfric had not come. We feared that he had fallen into
Danish hands, for it was hard to say where they were not. It seemed
that we must perforce leave London without him. Yet I would stay
till the last for his coming.

Now I must leave England, and I have said little about myself. But
when this duty was laid on me by the king, I thought more of my
lost quest of Hertha than I had done of late. For now I must leave
her in our poor land, where she must be hunted maybe from hiding to
biding, place to place, and