And he extended the exercise Elfric had written to the abbot, who looked at the writing for one moment, and then glanced severely at the prince.  The character was very like his own, but there was a difference.

“Is this your handwriting, Prince Edwy?” he asked.

“Of course.  Elfric saw me write it, did you not?”

Elfric was not used to falsehood; he could not frame his lips to say “Yes.”

Dunstan observed his confusion, and he turned to the prince with a look in which contempt seemed to struggle with passive self-possession.

“I trust, Edwy,” he said, “you will remember that the word of a king is said to be his bond, and so should the word of a prince be if he ever hopes to reign.  I shall give Father Benedict charge to superintend your studies as usual.”

He wished them a grave good morning, and left the room.

As soon as the last sound of his steps had ceased, Edwy turned sharply to Elfric—­“Why did you not say yes at once?  Surely you have a tongue?”

“It has never learnt to lie.”

“Pooh!  What is the harm of such a white lie as that would have been?  If you cannot give the credit of a Latin exercise, which you happen to have written, to your future king, you must be selfish; it is my writing, if you give it me, isn’t it?”

Elfric did not quite see the matter in that light, yet did not care to dispute the point; but his conscience was ill at ease, and he was glad to change the subject.

“When can we go out?” he said, for he was anxious to see the city.

“Oh, not till after the midday meal, and you must see the palace first; come now.”

So they descended and traversed the various courts of the building; the dormitories, the great dining hall, the audience chambers where Edred was then receiving his subjects, who waited in the anteroom, which alone the two boys ventured to enter.  Finally, after traversing several courts and passages, they reached the guardroom.

Three or four of the “hus-carles” or household guards were here on duty.  But in the embrasure of the window, poring over a map, sat one of very different mien from the common soldiers, and whose air and manner, no less than his dress, proclaimed the officer.

“Redwald,” said the prince, advancing to the window, “let me make you acquainted with my friend and companion, Elfric of Aescendune.”

The officer started, as if with some sudden surprise, but it passed away so quickly that the beholder might fancy the start had only existed in imagination, as perhaps it did.

“This gallant warrior,” said Edwy to Elfric, “is my friend and counsellor in many ways; and if he lives there shall not be a thane in England who shall stand above him.  You will soon find out his value, Elfric.”

“My prince is pleased to flatter his humble servant,” said Redwald.

But Elfric was gazing upon the soldier with feelings he could scarcely analyse.  There was something in his look and the tone of his voice which struck a hidden chord, and awoke recollections as if of a previous existence.