Instantly all was in preparation:  the best casks of wine were broached, fowls and wild birds alike had cause to lament that their lives were shortened, chamberlain and cook were busy, clean rushes were brought in to adorn the floor of the hall, sweet flowers and aromatic grass for that of the royal bedchamber; and it was not till a flourish of trumpets announced the approach of the cavalcade that all was ready, and the maidens and men servants, arrayed in their best holiday attire, stood grouped without the gate to receive their king.

At last the glitter of the departing ray upon pointed lances announced the approach, and soon the whole party might be seen—­a hundred horse accompanying the king’s person, and one or two nobles of distinction, including Redwald, riding by his side.

When the train first reached the spot from which the castle was visible, a strange thing occurred.  The king’s eyes were fixed upon Redwald, and, to the royal astonishment, the whole frame of that worthy seemed shaken by a sudden emotion.  His countenance became pale, his lips were compressed, and his eyes seemed to dart fire.

“What is the matter, my Redwald?” asked the king.

“Oh, nothing, my lord!” said he, resuming his wonted aspect with difficulty, but at last becoming calm as a lake when the wind has died away.  “Only a sudden spasm.”

“I hope you are not ill?”

“No, my lord; you need not really feel anxious concerning me.

“The hall of Aescendune appears a pleasant place for a summer residence,” he added.

“I have been there before,” said the king.  “Spent some weeks there.  Yes; I thought it a great change for the better then, after the musty odour of sanctity which reigned in the palace of my uncle the monk, but all things go by comparison.  I might not relish a month there now.”

“Yet it looks like a place formidable for its kind, and it might not be amiss to persuade the worthy old thane to receive a garrison there, so that if the worst came to the worst we might have a place of refuge, otherwise the Mercians would soon have possession of it.”

“Ella is one of themselves.”

“But the rebel Edgar may not forgive him for entertaining us!”

“He can hardly help himself.  Still, the smoke of those fires, which, I trust, betokens good cheer; and the peaceful aspect of that party coming out to meet us, in the midst of whom I recognise old Ella and his son Alfred, Elwy’s brother, does not look much like compulsion.”

“Making the best of a bad bargain, perhaps.”

“I prefer to think otherwise.”

At this moment the two parties met, and Edwy at once dismounted from his courser with that bewitching and kingly grace which became “Edwy the Fair.”  He advanced gracefully to the old thane, and, presenting the customary mark of homage, embraced him as a son might embrace a father —­“For,” said he, “Elfric has taught me to revere you as a father even if Aescendune had not taught me before then.  I robbed you of your son, now I offer you two sons, Elfric and myself.”