St. Edmund had not sacrificed himself in vain. The Danes, so greatly weakened by the bloody battles they had fought, gave up the idea of ruling East Anglia, and sailed away to their country, leaving St. Edmund's people in peace, and free to practise the Christian Faith. THE FIFTH DAY (SUNDAY) Everyone dressed quickly and quietly, found his Prayer-Book somewhere in the far depths of his kit-bag, and ran down to sit on the sea wall and wait for Akela and the last Cub or two (the ones whose boots had got lost, or who were so fussy about parting their hair, etc., that dressing took rather a long time). Very reverently they went into church, and very quietly came out again and up to the field. Breakfast, a run round the field to let off steam, and then down to the shore for a bathe. In the afternoon every Cub got hold of a piece of paper and a pencil, and sat, lay, knelt, or squatted in some corner, his tongue well out and his brow furrowed with thought, to write home. Some wrote very private letters, all on their own, and didn't give the show away even to ask how to spell the hardest words, like "library" (which might just as well be "lybary," or "librurry," or "lieberry"). Of course, library, in some form or other, came into all their letters, because they all wanted to tell about the adventure of going to Quarr Abbey. Some Cubs, sacrificing the privateness of their letters, decided that if Akela or Godmother did the writing, while they did the _saying what_, it would be much quicker, and much more could be told to "mother and all at home." So they brought their paper and pencils, and asked Akela to do it in "proper, quick writing." They told _everything_--even what they had had for dinner each day, and one said his bed at camp was much "comfortabler" than his bed at home. After tea there was a little cricket practice and some tree-climbing, and then supper and, of course, night prayers. And then, feeling as if they had lived in camp all their lives, instead of only five days, the Cubs walked contentedly down the hill to bed. Patsy, as usual, was having a free ride on Akela's back, and he was certainly quite a lot heavier than the first day. Before long everyone was established in the Coach-house and the candle lighted. "To-night," said Akela, "I'm going to tell you about a very Cubby Saint. I know he would have loved Cubs, because he loved small boys and wild animals; in fact, a certain wolf was a great friend of his; and he thought it worth while, once, to preach a beautiful sermon to a flock of birds. He was always laughing or singing or doing something Cubby, and he had ideas he used to teach his followers, very much like our Cub Law and Motto. His name was St. Francis of Assisi. Now listen, for I specially want you to make friends with St. Francis, because I love him very much." THE STORY OF ST. FRANCIS--I.