Long into the night did the little band confer. Bright and early the next morning the whole party traversed the woods until they came to the island spoken of by Denewulf. On the eastern boundary of the forest, on rising ground, was the isle, surrounded by dangerous marshes formed by the little rivers, Thone and Parret. The marshes were not fordable, but Denewulf brought from the rushes a little coracle, capable of bearing four, and soon the entire party stood on the island itself and examined it. It contained about two acres covered with vast brakes of alder bush filled with deer and other game. “The marshes are fordable only in summer, my king,” said Denewulf, “and then only by those who know the secret.” “’Tis an ideal place for a fortress,” returned Alfred, his keen eye taking in every detail. “Athelney will I call it. See, Denewulf, here will I build my fort. Then when the spring hath set in truly, will we sally forth.” Thus planning, the party returned to the cottage, and then with hearty farewells the Saxons started off to tell the glad news to those who were trustworthy. During the days of waiting, matters at the hut went on as before. The lessons were resumed, and, though Adiva did not soon recover from her awe in the presence of the king, Egwina regarded him with a loving reverence. One day he laid down the manual which he was conning with a sigh. “What is it, my king?” asked Egwina. “What is it troubles thee? Dost think that the Saxons tarry too long in their coming?” “Nay, child. I thought not of them, but of my family. Long hath it been since I have seen them, and I fain would know how they fare.” “The Lady Elswitha was with granther and me at Chippenham,” remarked Egwina. “She was borne from us by the press of the throng during the night. She and the maiden whom they call Ethelfleda, and Edward the youth.” “Egwina, sayest thou so?” cried the king in surprise. “Why, child, thou hast never spoken of this before!” “Have I not?” and the maiden was surprised in turn. “When we left the palace we were with the lady and her children.” Then she proceeded to give an account of the matter, closing with, “Oft have I wondered what became of them.” “I can tell thee that,” answered the king. “When morning dawned, as I searched for them, fearing that they might have been slain by the Dane, a bode came running with the tidings that they had taken refuge in the house of a ceorl in one of the villages. Quickly did I hasten to them, and then sent them into Somersetshire where they could dwell in safety. ’Twas not well for me to be with them, for thus would they be exposed to danger. Once only have I heard from them. That was by chance when I obtained the harp. I would send them some bode, but that I know not if the Saxons who come can be trusted, and Denewulf must be here. None know the secrets of the forest as he.” He sighed again. “My king,” Egwina spake timidly. “Yes, child.”