Over the girl’s bright face came a cloud, for well did she know of the devastating work of the ravagers. “Here we are!” cried the youth. “Now, maiden, thou art the bode from the king. Seek thou the lady first. We will tarry without until she bids us enter.” Egwina advanced through the courtyard, and then somewhat timidly to the portals. In answer to her knock, a warder opened the door and asked her in. “I would see the lady Elswitha,” spake she. “I bear to her a message from the king.” “From the king? From Alfred?” ejaculated the warder. He ran from the room without bidding her welcome. Egwina smiled at his evident delight, and seated herself near the entrance. She had scarcely done so when the lady Elswitha hastily entered. As soon as her eyes fell upon the girl she gave an exclamation of joy. “Is it thou, little one? Glad am I to see thee safe. Oft have I wondered about thee and thy father—the good harper—who so bravely tried to lead us to King Alfred. Is he safe also?” “Nay, lady,” returned the maiden, touched to the quick by the gracious thoughtfulness of the lady, who could forget her own anxiety in care for the welfare of others. “Nay; he fell by the hand of the Dane. Anon will I tell thee of it, but now do I bear thee a message from the king. He is safe. Followers are rallying around him. Victory hath already crowned the Saxons against Hubba, and ere the bringing home of the summer the king hopes again to rule over Wessex.” The lady clasped her hands. Her lips moved as if in prayer. Then, impelled by a gracious impulse, she stooped and kissed the maiden. “Sweeter than softest music is thy message to my heart. I rejoice in my lord’s safety, and that his people are coming to his call. Now can I wait further news until thou hast refreshed thyself.” “No, lady; I am not aweary, and it glads my heart to tell thee of the king,” spoke the girl. Then, as Elswitha drew her to her side, she told of the cottage in the woods, the occupations of the king, and everything of her journey hither. Many exclamations of joy, and pity, and terror did the kind lady utter as she listened to the story. “And thy companions—the noble Saxons who brought thee thither? Where are they?” “They await without thy bidding.” “They must be welcomed,” cried the lady, warmly. “Sit thee here, child, until my return.” She hurried forth and heartily greeted the Saxons, bidding them come into the hall. Then she summoned Oswald the thegn, and bade him make a feast for the good news that was brought, and for the refreshment of those who had brought it. Into the hall came the three young children, two girls and the youngest, a boy: Ethelgiva, Ethelswitha and Ethelwerd, by name. “Oh, my children,” cried the lady, embracing them. “Good news have I for ye from your father. Haste to the bower chamber of your grandmother Eadburga! Bid her to come to the hall at once and all the household also, that I may tell them the joyful tidings.”