"Now up and let us act, for these Danes will give us little rest if they once come up with us; and though I fear not death, I have somewhat to do ere I close my eyes. I have a word for Hungwar, and I have a quest to make. Come, King, and come, comrades, and never be discouraged. We must flee for the time, but it will not be forever that we are to remain hidden. "The sun may be hidden by a cloud for the time, O King, but it is not lost forever." "But what shall we do with our dear ones, our tender ones?" cried the King. "With whom shall we leave them?" "With whom dost thou think they will tarry, son, save with those they love?" answered Osburga, speaking stoutly. "Do we fear the cold, and the wet, more than the risk of being taken by the wicked Danes? Nay, son, I, thy mother, go with thee, for one; and so does thy royal spouse Elswitha, and her attendant, the Lady Edgiva, herself a royal princess." "This may not be," cried the King; but the others said that the words were wise words, and that so they would have less care than if the Queen were left unprotected and alone. So by night a little army, such a poor little force, was gathered; and with the Queen, and Osburga, and Edgiva, and old Wyborga, they journeyed by forest and wild, and on till they came to a wild and desolate place[9] where two angry streams met, with wild moors and dreary swamps extending for many a mile, over which none might with safety pass, unless they knew the pathways that were sure. And here in this desolate place did the King, who now had no hall, abide in humble huts which they built with their own hands; and often did he and those with him have no food, unless they first caught it by their own skill. Fish they snared from the waters, and wild deer they chased across the moor, and they lived like outlaws and nameless ones. Hard was it then for the King, and sorely did he grieve for the unhappy land; for ever and again his spies came with reports of the grievous work of the Danes, and of the suffering of the people, and his heart was full of pain. Scarce could he go from his hiding-place because of the foe, for he knew that they were gathering closer and closer, searching for him to make an end of him. Sometimes he had to wander quite alone, without a single attendant, and dressed in the poorest garments of a churl, and yet never in all did the faith of the King fail, and never did his mother or his wife fail him in his need. Now the King had a jewel[10] which he valued, and which he hung round his neck; and this was a stone of polished crystal, two inches long, and cunningly wrought with gold and green enamel; and seated thereon was a figure with a lily spray in each hand, and surrounding the jewel was a gold band on which were written these words-- ALFRED MEC HEHT GEWYRCAN. (Alfred had me made).