Reluctant as Edmund was to leave the city, it was evident that if he delayed another day he might indeed share the perils of the inhabitants, but would probably lose Wessex, where his immediate presence was all-important. Therefore he called Alfgar, and bade him prepare at once for a journey to the west. Their intended route led them, in the first instance, to Dorchester, where a large force from Mercia, including most of the men whom Edmund had so long disciplined himself, and who were under the temporary charge of Hermann, were to meet him. However, it was late before their final arrangements could be made, and the sun had already set when the citizens accompanied them to the Ludgate, and bade them an earnest farewell. They were both clad in light defensive armour, such as could be worn on a rapid journey, and armed with sword and battle-axe. Their own steeds, two of the finest horses England could produce, famous for speed and bottom, awaited them at the gate. Edmund criticised their condition with a jealous eye, and then expressed approval. "Farewell, Englishmen of the loyal and true city! Until we meet in happier times, farewell! You will know how to guard hearths and homes. Till we return to aid you, farewell!" And, striking spurs into his steed, he and Alfgar rode across the Fleet river, and, ascending the rising ground, pursued their course along the Strand. "We shall have a moonlight ride," said the king. "Look, Alfgar, 'tis nearly full." "My Lord, do you see those dark spots on the river near Thorney Isle?" "Ah! I see them, and recognise the cutthroats. They are the Danes, who are bent on surrounding the city. Had I my five hundred, I would soon give some account of that detachment." "But now, my Lord, had we not better strike into the northern road at once, before they see us? We are but two." "No; I should like to see them a little closer, and then across the heath for Windsor. They must have fleet steeds that catch us." So they persevered until they had attained a rising ground from which they perceived the whole force, nearly a thousand strong, of whom one half had crossed the stream. But the figures of our two adventurers, outlined on the hill, were too distinct to elude their observation, and a dozen dark horsemen rode after them at full gallop. "Now for a brisk ride," said Edmund; and the two dashed wildly onward, clearing ditch or hedge until they attained the rising ground afterwards known as Hounslow Heath, still followed by their pursuers. Here Edmund paused and looked round. The speed at which they rode had separated their pursuers, as he had expected, and one was far the foremost. "Stand by, Alfgar," he said; "two to one is not fair. I thirst for the blood of this accursed Dane."