The girl stood an unwilling, fascinated spectator, with no thought of danger to self. Bravely and fiercely fought the Dane. Bravely and fiercely fought the Saxon. True sons of Wodan they, and to the fighting blood of the old Norse heroes was added the lofty exaltation of striking for home and country. Suddenly one of the Danish women caught sight of Egwina standing there in the midst of the battle. With a cry of fury she dashed toward her, and seizing her by the hair began dragging her back to where the women and children were. Egwina cried out at the assault, and strove to tear herself from the grasp of the woman. At her cry, some of the Saxons turned. One, a youth, left the others and bounded toward the two. “Unhand the girl,” he commanded. “Nay,” cried the woman; “she shall serve as an offering to Odin. The battle goeth against us, and the fierce one demandeth a victim. Away!” The youth grasped the woman by the wrists. “Release thy hold,” he shouted; “or, by St. Peter of blessed memory, I will forget that thou art a woman.” “Forget it, then! Strike if thou durst! Strike, and upon thy head fall the curse of Odin.” “I care not for Odin’s curses,” cried the Saxon, “but I war not with women. Unhand the girl!” The woman only tightened her grip the more on the long beautiful hair of Egwina. “There is but one way, maiden.” The youth let go one of the woman’s wrists to draw his seax. The woman thought that he meant to cut off her hands. Egwina was of the same opinion, and suffering though she was, exclaimed, “For the love of Heaven, maim not the woman!” There was a grim smile on the youth’s face. He raised the seax and the stroke fell. With a scream the woman let the bright hair of the maiden fall, and fled to the others. “Oh, didst thou hurt her?” cried Egwina, as the young man assisted her to her feet. “No;” and he held up two fair locks of her hair. “I meant only to sever thy hair from thy head.” “And thou didst not intend to cut off her hands?” cried Egwina, relieved. “Am I not a Christian? Do Christians treat others so?” demanded the youth. “Come, let us to the Saxons, for the battle is ended.” [Illustration: _HE RAISED THE SEAX AND THE BLOW FELL._] It was true. Elated by their triumph, the Saxons pursued the flying Danes, and great was the slaughter. Great also was the booty they obtained from the camp, and, among other things, the magical banner of Hubba, under which the chief lay dead. “Now,” said the youth to Egwina, “the slaughter is done. Great will be the joy of Alfred when he hears of this day’s prowess. A bode am I to thee from the king. Mickle and sore doth he repent having let thee go from his sight as bode for him to his family. He bids me, with others, to accompany thee on thy journey, and bring thee back in safety to him.”