“’Tis the heart of Egwina that molds her appetite,” commented Edward. “At the morning meal I could but notice how she broke off the larger part of her bread, and gave it to Ethelwerd and Elswitha. The meat did go in the same manner.” “Didst thou?” Ethelfleda looked up from the fish she was preparing in amaze. “Thou shouldst have eaten thy portion. Each had the same.” “True; but the little ones wished for more,” said the girl simply. “And I need not much. Then, too, Edward gave me part of his.” “’Twas naught,” said the youth hastily. “Thou wouldst retain nothing for thyself if thou were not watched. Besides, I am a man, and stronger than thou.” “A man?” teased his sister. “A man, yet thou hast not yet naught but down upon thy chin; nor art thou of age to wear buckler.” “Yet in truth a man,” said Alfred, laying his hand kindly upon his son’s head. “A man such as I wish to see, my son. Tender to the weak, and gentle to the helpless.” Edward’s face flushed at the praise. “Come, Ethelred,” he called, to hide his confusion, to the young man who stood by the fire. “Come help us to prepare the fish.” “Gladly,” returned Ethelred. “I have been warming by the fire, for chill hath the wind proved, else I had been with ye ere now. Marry! glad will I be when the Lenat (March) month hath passed.” Thus busily and merrily, despite hardships and dangers, did they prepare the fish, and with hearts knit more closely together for these same hardships, the king and his retainers sat down to supper. As merry and gleeful were they as when in other days they had gathered round the festive board in royal hall with wassail and song, so now sat the Saxon king and his people in the rude cabin. After the meal, Egwina sang, for to-night hope had entered into their hearts, and their hunger was satisfied as it had not been for days. Early the next morning, the king crossed to the mainland. But twice wound he his horn, when from the alders and forest there came many men. “The king! The king!” they cried. “We rally to his standard!” “Here is the king,” came the reply, and thus five hundred more men were added to Alfred’s number. CHAPTER XVI—IN THE CAMP OF THE ENEMY Easter had passed, and the first faint breath of spring was in the air. Rapidly the numbers in Athelney increased. The whole people had by this time been apprised of the king’s plan, and were making preparations to join him in the final blow. Guthrum with his Danes grew aware of the unusual stir and activity among them, but found it impossible to discover its cause. Still Alfred knew not the strength of the enemy. Guthrum had removed from Chippenham, and was now encamped at Westbury. Into the king’s mind there came a bold idea. Calling Egwina to him, he said with his winning smile, “Little one, darest thou to accompany me on a journey?” “Gladly, my king,” was the response.