One evening, while a little hilarity was going on in the royal apartments, Edmund noticed among the guests a robber named Leolf, who had not been invited.  Probably he was a pickpocket; and as a royal robber hated anybody who dropped below grand larceny, the king ordered his retainers to put him out.

But the retainers shrank from the undertaking, therefore Edmund sprang from the throne like a tiger and buried his talons in the robber’s tresses.  There was a mixture of feet, legs, teeth, and features for a moment, and when peace was restored King Edmund had a watch-pocket full of blood, and the robber chieftain was wiping his stabber on one of the royal tidies.

[Illustration:  Edmund throwing Leolf out.]

Edred now succeeded the deceased Edmund, his brother, and with a heavy heart took up the eternal job of fighting the Danes.  Edred set up a sort of provincial government over Northumberland, the refractory district, and sent a governor and garrison there to see that the Danes paid attention to what he said.  St. Dunstan had considerable influence over Edred, and was promoted a great deal by the king, who died in the year 955.

He was succeeded by Edwy the Fair, who was opposed by another Ethel.  Between the Ethels and the Welsh and Danes, there was little time left in England for golf or high tea, and Edwy’s reign was short and full of trouble.

He had trouble with St. Dunstan, charging him with the embezzlement of church funds, and compelled him to leave the country.  This was in retaliation for St. Dunstan’s overbearing order to the king.  One evening, when a banquet was given him in honor of his coronation, the king excused himself when the speeches got rather corky, and went into the sitting-room to have a chat with his wife, Elgiva, of whom he was very fond, and her mother.  St. Dunstan, who had still to make a speech on Foreign Missions with a yard or so of statistics, insisted on Edwy’s return.  An open outbreak was the result.  The Church fell upon the King with a loud, annual report, and when the debris was cleared away, a little round-shouldered grave in the churchyard held all that was mortal of the king.  His wife was cruelly and fatally assassinated, and Edgar, his brother, began to reign.  This was in the year 959, and in what is now called the Middle Ages.

Edgar was called the Pacific.  He paid off the church debt, made Dunstan Archbishop of Canterbury, helped reform the church, and, though but sixteen years of age when he removed all explosives from the throne and seated himself there, he showed that he had a massive scope, and his subjects looked forward to much anticipation.

He sailed around the island every year to show the Danes how prosperous he was, and made speeches which displayed his education.

His coronation took place thirteen years after his accession to the throne, owing to the fact, as given out by some of the more modern historians, that the crown was at Mr. Isaac Inestein’s all this time, whereas the throne, which was bought on the instalment plan, had been redeemed.