But I will do violence to myself, and will write all things accurately, in order it may serve to show that there were those amongst us who were not consenting parties, who entered not into the counsels of those men of blood, whom may God “reward after their deeds, and according to the wickedness of their own inventions.”

Well, to begin.  When supper was ended at the hall last night, my brother bade his wife and children seek their bower, and Alfgar went with them; then he addressed his people with that confidence and affection he not only shows in his outward speech, but really feels in his heart.

“Are all the folk present within the gates?” he asked.

“We are all here, my lord,” replied they; “none have been wanting in their duty.”

“It is well; and now, my people, I ask you, whom I have ever trusted, and to whom I have tried to be a friend as well as a master, have you any of you a suspicion what the sheriff is about tonight, and why he desired the prior to tell good Christians to keep within doors?”

There was a dead silence.  At last one of the ceorls rose up, and spoke with some hesitation: 

“I think, my lord, that they intend to avenge themselves upon the Dane folk.”

“Did they say anything about it to you or any other of my people?”

“Yes; they tried to get two or three of us to join in the work, but when they found we would do nothing without your knowledge, they told us no more.”

“Then you do not know what is the exact work they have in hand?”

“No.  But I heard something which made me think that plunder and massacre were both likely to be committed.”

“Did you hear any particular names mentioned?”

“Yes.  That of Anlaf.”

“This explains Siric’s insolence, Cuthbert.”

“It does,” I replied.

“But surely they cannot intend to do anything tonight.  They would not choose Sunday for a deed of darkness.  Men who have attended mass during the day, surely would not so forget their God as to go through the country like cowardly wolves, pulling down the prey in company which they dare not attack singly.”

“I should hope the same; but then the looks and words of today,” said I.

“Did they say what authority they had for their projected scheme?”

“They dared to say,” replied the ceorl who had before spoken, “they had the sanction of the king.”

There was again a painful silence.  We groaned in the bitterness of our hearts—­O Ethelred, son of Edgar, hast thou forgotten all truth and mercy?—­thou, the son of Edgar the Magnanimous?

Every impulse of our hearts led us to detest the cruel deed of treachery about to be consummated, but which we could not prevent.

At least there was one whom we could save from the general destruction, the young Alfgar, and we determined to detain him if possible by persuasion, keeping the truth from him, but in any case to detain him at the hall during the night.