"They are safe," said Edmund. "You may hear the trampling of hoofs even now. The fools of Danes are hunting them in all directions. I do not think they will catch many." Lights appeared in two or three places, and soon it became evident that the ruthless foe had gained their object, as the barns and stables lit up in all directions, and the manor house was surrounded by the double conflagration, so that every object was as distinctly visible as in open daylight. "To your buckets! Pour water upon the roof; and, archers, look out for the enemy; keep him as far off as you can." The boys and women were speedily on the roof pouring water in all directions, in case the wind should deposit the burning brands upon the structure. Meanwhile flights of arrows came from the distance, and settled around them; but they were spent before arrival in most cases, for the defenders kept the ground clear for a large circle around by their well-sustained discharges. Not a few dead bodies lying in the glare of the fire testified to their deadly skill. The flames passed from stable to barn, and barn to shed. The triumphant cries of the Danes added to the horror of the scene, heard as they were amidst the continuous roaring of the flames. Crash, crash, went roof after roof, the fall of the little church on the opposite side first leading the awful chorus. Life seemed the penalty of either Englishman or Dane who dared to trust his person within the circle of light. The Lady Bertha was comforting her two little girls, Ostryth and Alfreda, where they sat, cowering and terrified, in their own little bedchamber, the window so barricaded that no arrow could enter, but yet not sufficiently to keep out the glare of the flames. "Mother, how light it is!" said the little Ostryth; "how dreadfully bright!" "It will soon be darker again." "But is it fire? Are they burning the house?" "No, dearest. They have set the farm on fire. It cannot hurt us." "But the horses, and my poor little pony?" "Are safe, dearest one. The Etheling went and let them all loose." "Oh! how good of him. I am so glad." "Mother, let Hermann come and sit with us!" "Nay, he will out to the fight. He is a boy, and must learn to be a soldier." "Oh, but he will get hurt, perhaps killed." "Courage, dear child; remember how often I have told you how God helps those who trust in Him. Say your prayers, your Pater and Credo, and ask God to take care of dear father and Hermann." "Mother!" said a voice. She locked up and saw Hermann, his forehead covered with blood. "It is nothing, mother," said the spirited lad, as he wiped the blood away; "at least only the scratch of an arrow while I was on the roof. Father wishes you to send all the women who are strong enough to help to carry water from the river. The well is dry, and the men cannot be spared from the embankment. We expect another attack, and there are great patches of blazing straw flying about in the wind."