“No; he is afraid, perhaps, to trust his cold heart within the magic of my Elgiva’s sunshine, lest the ice should be melted.” These had been asides, while all the company were listening to the gleeman; but now Edwy threw himself heart and soul into the current conversation, and all went merry as a marriage peal, until the ceremoniarius—for Edwy loved formality in some things—threw open the folding doors and announced the captain of the hus-carles, and Elfric of Æscendune. The whole company rose to receive them, and Elfric in particular received a warm welcome; but it was at once seen that there was a marked constraint upon him: his eye was restless and uneasy, and he seemed like one carrying a load at his breast. In truth, since that fatal night when, as he believed, he had witnessed the death of his brother, he had striven in vain to drown care and to banish remorse: the thought of his aged father deprived of both his sons—the one by death, the other by desertion—would force its way unbidden to his mind. Still, he had determined to throw aside reserve in honour of the occasion, and he made heroic efforts to appear happy and gay. Redwald was at his ease, as usual in all company, and seemed to cause prodigious laughter as he told his adventures to the younger folk at the bottom of the board. Dark and malign as his demeanour usually was, yet he could affect a light and airy character at times. “Redwald, my trusty champion,” said Edwy, “this is the first campaign thou hast ever returned from unsuccessful. Tell us, how did Dunstan outwit you?” “By the aid of the devil, my liege.” “Doubtless; but we had all hoped for a different result, and that thou wouldst either have left the traitor no eyes in his head, or no head on his shoulders. “Said I not rightly, my Elgiva?” The eyes of the fair enemy of the abbot flashed fire, and she exchanged some very significant words with her mother, Ethelgiva, who occupied the next chair. “Come, my fairy-given xxvi one, you must not be too hard on Redwald, who doubtless did his best— “How was it, Elfric?” “The devil was certainly on Dunstan’s side: he and no other could have betrayed our coming, for betrayed it was.” “How long had he left when you reached the abbey?” “Only an hour or two; but there was a sound of mocking laughter, doubtless caused by his incantations, which kept us for some hours forcing doors and the like.” “And you could discover no cause?” “None whatever; however, we found he had taken the Foss Way for the coast, and followed, and nearly caught him.” “What prevented you?” Elfric turned pale as if with great mental emotion, and tried to proceed in vain. “You are not well,” said Elgiva, anxiously. “Not quite,” he said; and then, overcoming his feelings by a vigorous effort, while no one save Redwald suspected the true cause, he continued: “There had been a great storm, and they had broken down the only bridge which existed for miles over a swollen river: we lost hours.”