Elfric stared vacantly, then fell back on the pillow: a moment only passed, and then it was evident that an interval of silence had begun, during which the patient only moaned. The noise from those who were feasting in the hall beneath, which communicated with the gallery by a large staircase, was loud and boisterous as ever. A step was heard approaching. Alfred took Oswy by the arm, and they both retired behind the tapestry, which concealed a small recess, where garments were usually suspended. The heavy step entered the room, and its owner was evidently standing beside the bed gazing upon the couch. There he remained stationary for some minutes, and again left the room. It was not till the last sound had died away that Alfred and Oswy ventured to leave their concealment. The silence still continued, save that it was sometimes broken by the patient’s moans. “Take and wrap these clothes round him; we must preserve him from the night air;” and they wrapped the blankets around him; then Oswy, who was very strongly built, took the light frame of Elfric in his arms, and they left the room. One moment of dread suspense—the passage was clear—a minute more would have placed them in safety, when the paroxysm returned upon the unfortunate Elfric. “Help, Edwy! Redwald, help! Dunstan has seized me, and is bearing me to the fire! I burn! help, I burn!” Alfred groaned in his agony; the shrieking voice had been uttered just as they passed the staircase leading down to the hall. Up rushed Ragnar, followed by several of his men, and started back in amazement as he beheld Alfred and Oswy with their burden. Alfred drew his sword to dispute the passage, but was overpowered in a moment. Ragnar himself attacked Oswy, who was forced to relinquish his burden. All was lost. Another moment and Ragnar confronted his prisoners. Elfric had been carried back to his bed. Alfred and Oswy stood before him, their arms bound behind them, in the great hall, while the soldiers retired at a signal a short distance from them. “What has brought you here?” “To deliver my brother.” “To share his fate, you mean. Know you into whose hands you have fallen?” “Yes; into those of my cousin Ragnar.” “Then you know what mercy to expect.” “I came prepared to share my brother’s fate.” “And you shall share it. It must be the hand of fate which has placed you both in my power, me, the representative of the rightful lord of Æscendune, dispossessed by your father, and being myself the legitimate heir.” “We do not dispute your title; give my brother his life and liberty, and take all; we have never injured you.” “All would be nothing without vengeance; you appeal in vain to me. Did I wish to spare you I could not; an oath, a fearful oath, binds me, taken to one from whom I derived life, one whose death was far more agonising and lingering than yours shall be.” “Let us at least die together.” “Do you scorn the company of your thrall in death?” “God forbid!