It was at this moment that Oswy, who stood by the window, which was strongly barred, but which he had opened, for the night was oppressively warm, caught the faint and distant sound of a mighty host advancing through the forest; at first it was very faint, and he only heard it through the pauses in the storm of sound which attended Ragnar’s preparations for departure, but it soon became more distinct, and he turned to Alfred. “Listen, my lord, they come to our aid; listen, I hear the army of Edgar.” Alfred rushed to the window, the hope of life strong within him; at first he could hear nothing for the noise below, but at length there was a lull in the confusion, and then he heard distinctly the sound of the coming deliverers. Another minute, and he saw the dark lines leaving the shadow of the forest, and descending the hill in serried array, then deploying, as if to surround a foe in stealthy silence; he looked around for the object, and beheld Ragnar’s forces all unconscious of their danger, not having heard the approach in their own hasty preparations for departure. Another moment of dread suspense, like that with which the gazer watches the dark thundercloud before the lightning’s flash. A moment of dread silence—during which some orders, given loudly below, forced themselves upon him: “Fire the castle, every portion of it; fire the stables, the barns, the outbuildings; we will leave a pile of blackened ruins for Edgar when he comes; the halls where the princely Edwy has feasted shall never be his, or entertain him as guest.” Meanwhile, the dark forces, unseen by the destroyers, were still surrounding the castle, deploying on all sides to surround it as in a net; for they saw the intention of their victims, and meant to cut off all chance of escape. But the position of the brothers seemed as perilous as ever—for how could Edgar’s troops rescue them if the place were once on fire? Alfred gazed with pallid face upon Oswy, but met only a resigned helpless glance in return. Yet, even at this moment of awful suspense, a voice seemed to whisper in his ear, “Stand still, and see the salvation of God.” “Oswy,” he exclaimed, “we shall not die—I feel sure that God will save us!” “It must be soon then,” replied Oswy; “soon, my lord, for they have already set the place on fire, just beneath us; can you not smell the smoke?” Just at that moment came the war cry of the Mercians, and the charge we have already described. It was during the following few minutes, while Ragnar and all his men were vainly striving to extinguish the conflagration they had raised—for the dry timber of which the hall was chiefly built had taken fire like matchwood—it was while the friends without were preparing to attack, that a sudden change came over the patient. “Alfred, my brother!” Alfred looked round in surprise; consciousness had returned, and the face was calm and possessed as his own. “Elfric, my dear Elfric!”