But there was no sign of life; no living thing seemed to breathe there; the place seemed abandoned for ever. It was a dull day, dull as the gloom which was upon our spirits; the very heavens seemed to have put on funeral attire, and the chilly wind which swept over the scene seemed quite at home. We emerged cautiously from our cover, and soon stood where, a few days before, the priory had risen, beautiful before God; it was but a huge pile of blackened timber and stone; and even more conspicuous above all other ruins, by the black smoke it still sent forth, was that which had been the hall. While we stood and pondered, Wiglaf suddenly started. "I hear the tramp of men," he said. Then I listened, and distinctly heard the footfall of men and horses. We paused; it drew nearer. We were on the point of taking to the woods again, when I thought I caught the sound of the word of command in the English tongue, and the voice seemed familiar. We advanced still cautiously amongst the ruins, until we saw fifty or sixty horsemen cross the wooden bridge which the Danes had left uninjured, and advance with horror-stricken faces. They were my brother and his men. I recognised Elfwyn amongst them. I rushed up to him, and our tears mingled together. "They are safe, are safe," I cried. "Thank God!" broke from many an overcharged heart. "But where are they? where are they?" "Safe at the forest farm, protected by brake and morass; and now tell me, how came you here?" Tidings arrived at headquarters that a small party of Danes were making an incursion into Mercia, riding as rapidly as they could, and I obtained Edric Streorn's leave to pursue them, with great difficulty I can tell you, and he would only allow me then to take fifty men. "He affected to disbelieve the intelligence, and said sarcastically that the safety of Wessex could not be neglected for Aescendune. The Northmen would never hurt a place which had so distinguished itself on St. Brice's day." Here he sighed heavily. "Elfwyn," I said, "my brother, we must not be ungrateful to God. Here are ruins indeed, but they cover no dead bodies; all have escaped." "No, Cuthbert, not all." I was silent, for I thought of Bertric. "We have buried him, Cuthbert, in God's peace, in the place he hallowed by his blood." I saw the tears stream down his manly cheeks. My voice grew so hoarse, somehow, that I could not ask a question. "I will tell you all we have seen by and by, not now. I could not bear it;" and he covered his face with his hands. "How did he die?" I stammered at last. "Like St. Edmund." I asked no more, but I hope the martyr will forgive me the tears I shed. I know I ought to rejoice that he has gained his crown, but I cannot yet. I shall be able some day. "How could they find the path through the woods, Cuthbert?" asked my brother; "how did they know the fords?" The same question had occurred to me.