"Not very many; still there has been a little mourning, and much anticipation of future evil," replied the bishop. "That is needless," said Edric; "they may all prepare to keep their Christmas with good cheer. The Danes are sleeping, hibernating like bears in their winter caves." "While they are so near as the Wight, who can rest in peace?" said Ednoth. "The Wight! it must be a hundred miles from here; the Danes have never reached any spot so far from the coast as this." "Yet there is an uneasy belief that they will attack the inland districts now that they have exhausted the districts on the coast, and that we must be prepared to suffer as our brethren have done." "Before they leave their retreat again we shall be ready to meet them; our levies will be better trained and more numerous." "A curse seemed upon all our exertions this last year," said Ednoth, sorrowfully. "We were defending our hearths and our homes, yet we were everywhere outmanoeuvred and beaten. It could not have been worse had we had spies and traitors in command." The king slightly coloured, for he resented all imputations on his favourite, and was about to make a sharp reply, when a voice which made him start, replied: "Quite right, reverend father! as you say, success was impossible while spies and traitors commanded our forces." All looked up in amazement; two guests had entered unbidden, and the king, the bishop, and Edric recognised Prince Edmund. "The unseemly interruption is a sufficient introduction to the company. I need not, my friends, present to you my turbulent son Edmund, or the attendant he has picked up." "No need whatsoever, if you will first allow us to explain the reasons of our presence here. We have somewhat startling news from the enemy." "The enemy, by my last advices, lies quiet in the Isle of Wight," said Edric. "I will not dispute your knowledge, my lord Edric," replied the Prince, "considering the intimacy you stand on with Sweyn." "Intimacy! I would sooner own intimacy with the Evil One." "You might own that, too, without much exaggeration, since the good bishop will bear me witness that he is the father of lies." "Edmund, this is unbearable," said the king. "Pardon, my father and liege, but truth will out." The company sat in amazement, while the hand of Edric played convulsively with the hilt of his dagger; meanwhile Edmund ate, and gave to Alfgar, ere he spake again. "Stay, Edric," whispered the king; "thou art my Edric. I was never false to thee, nor will I be now; did I not, for thy sake, look over the death of Elfhelm of Shrewsbury, and put out the eyes of his sons? canst thou not trust me now?" Thus strengthened, Edric remained, and uneasy whispers passed around the assembly. At last Edmund looked up. "When the flesh is weak through toil and fasting, speech is not eloquent, but now listen, all Englishmen true, and I will speak out."