“Nay,” said Alfred. “Tremble not, little one. Be not afraid. There is One higher than wicca, in whose hands we are. Let us meet the danger as Saxons.” He turned and stood as if to hear what the seid woman said, and the trembling maiden drew close to his side. “What is it that thou sayest, Gyda?” called Guthrum the king. “That an enemy is in our midst? Where is he that we may seize him?” “Yon skald and the maiden are not what they seem,” called the woman loudly. “The skald! The skald! Where is the skald?” demanded an hundred voices at once. Alfred advanced into the centre of the hall. “Who calls the skald?” he asked. “Wish ye more of harp and song that ye cannot let a man and his daughter pass?” “Come hither, minstrel,” commanded Guthrum as the tumult ceased suddenly at the sound of the voice of the harper. “And thou, Gyda! Come thou also, and make thine accusal.” Alfred looked fixedly at the woman. She quailed under his glance. “My lord,” he said to the Dane boldly, “if I seem not to be what I am, ’tis not the fault of the minstrel. In token of the truth of my words thou shalt find in the breast of the seid woman a jewel of gold. Look! if it be not there, do to the harper as thou wilt.” With a cry of rage the seid woman clasped her hands to her bosom. “The runes were wrong,” she gasped. “O my lord, take not from me the jewel. Again will I read the rede. Let the skald go, for I have wronged him.” “And thou hast the jewel even as he hath said?” queried Guthrum, looking from one to the other in perplexity. “Yes, my lord.” “Then,” said the Dane, turning to the minstrel who stood so calmly waiting his pleasure, “thou art a galdra smith (a wizard) as well as harper?” “Nay,” returned Alfred. “No charm do I work save that of a good conscience. Some little lore of leech craft have I, but that be all.” “And thou art truly a harper?” Guthrum knew not what to do, yet was loth to let him go. “Hast thou not heard for thyself? Be thou my judge.” “True,” said Guthrum. “What sayest thou, Gyda?” “My lord, let the incantation be prepared for the seid woman; for this night hath her art misled her,” returned Gyda, who sought to divert all minds from the jewel. “Let the incantation be prepared,” commanded the king. “Go,” whispered the Danish woman, and Alfred turned and without undue haste made his way unchidden from the hall. CHAPTER XVII—THE WINNING OF A BUCKLER The time at last was ripe to strike the final blow. By his visit into Guthrum’s camp, Alfred had learned the numbers, disposition and discipline of the Danes. After satisfying himself as to the chances of a sudden attack, he had returned to Athelney and sent messengers to the thegns and ealdormen of neighboring shires, giving them a tryst for the second week in May.