“I dreamed,” said Alfred, “that St. Cuthbert of Lindisfarne stood beside me. He spake and told me he had been my guest. He said that God had seen my affliction and those of my people which were now about to end. In token whereof Edward will return with the Saxons with a great take of fish.” “Sayest thou so?” cried Eadburga, much agitated. “Why that is mine own dream. Was any one here at all?” “There was a beggar,” declared the girls in the same breath. “He blessed the king when he left, and made the sign of the cross over him.” “That was the reason that I did dream that it was St. Cuthbert,” said Alfred, who nevertheless was much impressed by the dream. “Thy difficulties are fast nearing an end,” said the aged lady impressively. “I think, son, that this has been sent thee for comfort to thy heart, and cheer to thy drooping spirits.” “And comfort hath it brought,” said the king heartily. “I would that Edward would come with the others,” cried Ethelfleda. “I would like to see if he bringeth a great take of fish.” “Look not always for a sign, daughter,” reproved Alfred. “Well hath the vision served, if it but raise our courage. ’Twas induced by the blessing of the poor man. I would that he had remained with us, for it is chill and raw without. I wot that he was some holy man. Whatever he be, little doth he reck how he hath blessed us in return for the poor food which we gave.” “But still do I wish for Edward’s return,” declared Ethelfleda in a low tone to Egwina. “Supper will there not be unless the fish be taken. I am hungry. Art thou not, Egwina?” “Not since I have seen that poor man eat,” replied the maiden. “He ate as if naught had passed his lips for days.” Just then came the tramp of many feet from without. “Open, father,” cried the voice of Edward. “Open and see what I have brought thee.” Ethelfleda flew to the door before Alfred could move, and threw it open. “Welcome, welcome, Edward! What dost thou bring? Oh, father, see the fish!” “Enough to feed an army,” and he laughed as the Saxons tried to bring them in, for it was truly a great take. “Blessed be St. Wilfrid, who taught the Saxons to fish! He must have been with us to-day.” “No, son; a greater than Wilfrid was with thee,” said Alfred solemnly, a joyous light shining in his eyes. “Wonderful hath been thy catch, and wonderful, too, hath been our experience.” “Let us have a feast,” cried the practical Ethelfleda; “hungry must ye be, good people, and hungry am I also. Art thou not now, Egwina?” “Since there is so much,” answered she, “I wot that I am.” “And dost thou not feel hunger save when there is plenty?” laughed Ethelfleda. “Strange, Egwina! Would that my appetite would accommodate itself to the supply. But marry! the less there is, the more do I wish.”