The sacred rites concluded, the royal procession left the church and proceeded to the churchyard, when Edwy took formal possession of Wessex, by the ceremony of standing upon a large rock called the King’s Stone, whence the town derived its name.

The feast was spread in the palace hard by, and all the nobles and thanes (if the words are not synonymous) flocked thither, while the multitude had their liberal feast spread at various tables throughout the town, at the royal expense.

Elfric followed his father to the palace, and was about to take his place at the board, when a page appeared and summoned him to the presence of Edwy.

“I shall keep a vacant place for you by my side,” said Ella, “so that we may feast together, my son, when the king releases you; it is a great honour that he should think of you now.”

Elfric followed the messenger, who led him into the interior of the palace, where he found Edwy impatiently awaiting him in the royal dressing chamber.

Elfric had expected to find the newly-crowned king deeply impressed, but if such had been the case, at the moment it had passed away.

“Thanks to all the saints, including St. George, and especially the dragon, that I can look into your jolly face again, Elfric, it is a relief after all the grim-beards who have surrounded me today.  I shudder when I think of them.”

Elfric had been about to kneel and kiss the royal hand, in token of homage, but Edwy saw the intention and prohibited him.

“No more of that an thou lovest me, Elfric; my poor hand is almost worn out already.”

“The day must have tired you, the scene was so exciting.”

Edwy yawned as he replied, “Thank God it is over; I thought Odo was going to preach to me all day, and the incense almost stifled me; the one good thing is that it is done now, and all England—­Kent, Sussex, Wessex, Essex, Northumbria, East Anglia, and Mercia—­have all acknowledged me as their liege lord, the Basileus of Britain.  What is done can’t be undone, and Dunstan may eat his leek now, and go to fight Satan again.”

Elfric looked up in some surprise.

“What do you think, my friend; who do you suppose is here in the palace, in the royal apartments?”

“Who?”

“Elgiva, the fair Elgiva, the lovely Elgiva, dear Elgiva, and her mother.  Oh, but I shall love to look upon her face when the feast is done, and the grim-beards have gone!”

“But Dunstan?”

“Dunstan may go and hang himself; he can’t scrape off the consecrated oil, or carry away crown, bracelet, and sceptre, to hide with the other royal treasures at Glastonbury; but the feast is beginning, and you must come and sit on my right hand.”

“No, no,” said Elfric, who saw at once what an impropriety this would be, “not yet; besides, my old father is here, and has kept a seat beside himself for me.”

“Well, goodbye for the present; I shall expect you after the feast.  Elgiva will be glad to see you.”