Leaving the palace, they were passing through some thick shrubbery, when all at once two strong men sprang upon Alfgar. At the same moment his attendant turned round and assisted his foes. He struggled, but he was easily overpowered, when his captors led him away, until, passing a postern gate in the western wall of the town, they crossed an embankment, and came upon the river. There they placed him on board a small boat, and rowed rapidly down the stream. In the space of a few minutes they ran the boat ashore in the midst of dense woods which fringed the farther bank, and there they forced him to land, and led him upwards until, deep in the woods, they came upon an old timbered house. They knocked at the door, which was speedily opened by a man of gigantic stature and ruffianly countenance, by whose side snarled a mastiff as repulsive as he. "Here, Higbald, we have brought thee a prisoner from our lord." The wretch looked upon Alfgar with the eyes of an ogre bent on devouring a captive, and then said: "The chamber where blind Cuthred was slaughtered looks out on the woods behind where no one passes, and it is strong; it will be better for you to take him there." And he drew aside to let them pass. "Here, Wolf" said the uncouth gaoler, "smell him, and see you have to guard him." The dog seemed to comprehend. He smelt around the prisoner, then displayed his huge fangs, and growled, as if to tell Alfgar what his fate would be if he tried to escape. The poor lad turned to his captors who had brought him there, for they seemed more humane than his new gaoler. "For pity's sake, tell me why I am brought here--what crime I have committed." No reply. "At least bear a message to one who will think I have deserted him in his need." Again they were silent. They had ascended a rough staircase. At the summit a passage led past two or three doors to one made of the strongest plank, and strengthened with iron. They opened it, thrust him in, showed him, by the light of their torches, a bed of straw in the corner. "There you can lie and sleep as peacefully as at Carisbrooke," said one of his guards. "And let me tell you," added Higbald, "that it will be certain death to try to get away; for if you could escape me, my dog Wolf, who prowls about by day and night, would tear you in pieces before any one could help you. He has killed half-a-dozen men in his day." Like a poor wounded deer which retires to his thicket to die, Alfgar threw himself down upon the bed of straw. His reflections were very, very bitter. "What would Edmund think of him?" "He will know I am faithful. He will not think that the lad whose life he saved has deserted him. He will search till he find me even here." Thus in alternate hope and despair he sank at last to sleep--nature had its way--even as the criminal has slept on the rack. CHAPTER XIV. THE SON AND THE FAVOURITE.