"Cnut the Dane has landed at Sandwich," the man said. "Eight hundred ships he has, and men more than I can count. The Kentish men have risen, and Olaf is with them; but he has not, and cannot have enough men to stay the Dane. There must be a levy of all England." Then I was almost beside myself with rage, and could have wept, for the levy that should have been waiting for this had not even had a summons. And from the bottom of my heart I blamed Edric Streone for all the woe that I saw must come on England. There was but one thing for me to do, and that was to go back to Stamford and see the Atheling. He would see me at midnight when no one else dared wake him, maybe, for he would know that I had heavy matters to speak of if I thus summoned him. The messenger would have to wait till morning, and could but give his message. I could reason with the Atheling, while this messenger would fall into Streone's hands. And that I knew now was the worst that could befall. "Give the man a fresh horse," I said. "I must go back with him." "Not so, lord," the men said. "You will be waylaid." "I think my luck will serve me," I answered. "Do you find some barn at Chesterton over the water, and leave two or three men to watch for my coming. Thrand and Guthorm may come with me." Then they grumbled at my running into danger, but I would be obeyed, though I must let them bide on this side of the ford. We were but seven miles from Stamford town, and we went back at a hard gallop on the good turf alongside the paving of the Roman way. It was in my mind to see Eadmund and leave him at once, before Streone knew that any man had come into the town, if I could. The bridge was barred, and the gates were too high to be leapt; but the guards were sleepy, and would not let me through, until I bade them open in the king's name. Then they did so, and we rode clattering up the street to the great hall. There was bustle enough when I beat on the courtyard gates, for the place was stockaded, and there was a strong guard inside. Presently they opened the wicket, and the captain looked out angrily enough. He began to rate us, but I cut him short. "I am Redwald," I said, "and I must see the Atheling without delay." The officer knew me well enough then, and let us in. "You cannot see the Atheling, thane," he said. "It is as much as my life is worth to disturb him." "I will do it myself, then," I said. "Take me into the house." "What is amiss?" he asked, hesitating. "Is the king dead?" "Nay, worse than that," I answered shortly, and the officer stared at me in horror. "Oh, fool!" I said; "Cnut is landed, and it is Eadmund only who can save our land. Let me to him."