At last he found a servitor who had seen him go with some men into the city, and hurried forth in search of him. He passed through all the streets inflaming the curiosity of the watchmen; the darkness (for there were very few lamps or lights of any kind, in those days, for public use) was intense, a drizzling rain was falling, and at length, weary, wet, and dispirited, he returned to the palace, and found that the council, tired of waiting, had at length broken up. The bishop offered him hospitality, evidently sympathising with his distress, and once suggested a doubt of the fidelity of his page, but Edmund repelled it instantly. "He is true as life," he said. "But the king himself is witness that Edric has not left his presence." "If not, he has plenty of villains about him to anticipate his orders, vile as Godwin, port-hund of Shrewsbury. Depend upon it they have murdered him, but if so, I will have vengeance, such vengeance--I will challenge the villain Edric to single combat." "The Church would forbid it." "Do you then sympathise with the hypocrite?" "Alas, my son! who can read the heart of man? I know not what to think." "But you could read the history of the last campaign. A fool might--I beg pardon--were not all our plans known beforehand? Did not all our enterprises fail? Were not all our ambushes anticipated? Did we not fall into all theirs? If they had had a prophet like Elisha, who told the king of Israel all Benhadad said in his council chamber, they couldn't have managed better. Can you explain this?" "No, my son." "Then I can, for I heard Sweyn say that they had a friend in the English camp." "Then you actually put your head in the lion's mouth, prince?" and the good bishop, purposely to relieve the prince's mind, drew out from him all the story of his late adventures. Deep was the distrust which Ednoth himself entertained of the fair-speaking Edric, yet he would not encourage the Etheling in further ill-timed opposition to his father. So at last Edmund slept, and trusted that with the morn he should find Alfgar; but the morn came, and all his inquiries were vain. The chamber in which Alfgar was confined contained a box-like recess for the straw bed, a chair, and a rough table, and these were all the comforts at his disposal, but they were enough for one in that hardy age. It was very strongly built, not a loose plank about it, although the wind found its way through numerous crevices, to the slight discomfort of the inmate. But not one hour of sleep could Alfgar take all that night. What would the Etheling think of him? was his constant thought, he who had saved his life at the risk of his (the Etheling's) own. Must he not think that the lad whose life he had saved had been false to him? and this thought was agony to the faithful and true heart of the prisoner.