It was now quite dark, and the ears of the would-be fugitives were strained to catch the sounds which should warn them of approaching danger. At length they fancied they heard sounds arise from the plain before them: suppressed noises, such as must unavoidably be made by a force on its passage; and Alfred again sought the cell of Dunstan, yet dared not enter, urgent though the emergency seemed. At this moment he was startled by a demoniacal burst of laughter, which seemed to fill the corridor in which he waited with exultant joy. What could it be? he felt as if he had never heard such laughter before—so terrible, yet so boisterous. A moment of dread silence, and then it began again, and filled each corridor and chamber. At that moment Dunstan came forth, and saw the pale face of Alfred. “It is only the devil,” he said “we are not ignorant of his devices. “O Satan! thou that wert once an angel in heaven, art thou reduced to bray like a jackass?” xxii Again the exultant peal resounded. “Be at peace,” said the abbot; “thou rejoicest at my departure; I shall soon return to defy thee and thy allies.” And the laughter ceased. “We must lose no time,” he said; “the moment is at hand.” Locking each door behind him, he reached the party in the courtyard, and each person mounted in a moment; then they passed under the great archway. Oswy had remained behind one moment to lock the great gates, and then they all rode forth boldly into the darkness. They passed rapidly in a direction at right angles to that in which their pursuers were approaching, and at the distance of a mile they halted for one moment to ascertain the cause of a great uproar which suddenly arose. It was not difficult to divine its cause: it was the beating of axes and hammers on the great outer door of the monastery. “It will occupy them nearly an hour,” said Dunstan, “and we shall be far far away before they have succeeded in effecting an entrance.” So they rode on rapidly into the night. Before them lay the Foss Way, the road was good and well known to them, the moon was shining brightly, and their spirits rose with the excitement and the exertion. Onward! Onward! CHAPTER XII. AT HIS WORST. The unhappy Elfric had indeed fallen from his former self before he reached the depth at which our readers have just seen him, joining with Redwald in the unhallowed enterprise so happily frustrated, if indeed it were yet frustrated, by his own brother. But when his father had returned to Æscendune alone, Elfric felt that home ties were shattered, and that he had nothing but the royal favour to depend upon, so he yielded to the wishes of King Edwy in all points.