Leaving the bathing place while there was yet time to reach home before dark, they came at last to a ford across the stream, the only spot where it could be safely forded, and as such known to the natives of the vicinity; when their dogs began to whine, and to run with their noses to the ground, as if they had found something unusual to attract their attention. The two theows who were in front paused at the ford till their lords came up, and then pointed to the ground with a terrified aspect. Alfgar gazed and started, as did Bertric. There were the footmarks of a large number of horses, evidently belonging to a body of horsemen who must have crossed the ford since they passed it in the morning. "Can my father have returned unexpectedly?" said Bertric. "He said he should get an early leave of absence." Alfgar did not answer for a moment. He was evidently very much alarmed. "Look," he said, "at the footmarks, where some have dismounted." Bertric looked, and comprehended the terror of his companion. The armed heels, which had sunk deeply into the mud, had left traces utterly unlike the marks to which they were accustomed in similar cases. The stories they had both heard of predatory bands of Danes who had wandered far from their main body, and had sought gratification for their lust for plunder and blood in remote spots where the inhabitants dwelt in fancied security, came to their minds, and also the inquiries which had been made in the Danish camp concerning their home and the circumstances of St. Brice's fatal night. "Still, it may be our father and his men; they may have worn the spoils of the enemy." The spoils generally went the other way, Alfgar thought, but did not say. They crossed the ford in silence, intent only on reaching home. For a long time they could follow the trail of the horsemen. "Who can lead them?" said Bertric, as they bounded onward. "They seem to know the country." A sad and harrowing suspicion had filled Alfgar's mind, that these men might be deputed to avenge the fiery death of his father--and to avenge it, probably, on the very people who would have died to prevent it. But the one desire uppermost in the minds of the whole party was to hasten home. They feared every moment that they might see the bright flame through the trees, or that the wind might bring them the tidings that they were all too late--too late to save those whom they loved from outrage and death. So they continued running, or walking when breath failed, at the utmost speed they could command, and just as the sun set they arrived at the crest of a hill, from which they could see the hall. "Thank God, it yet stands!" said they both.