Their repeated disasters weakened every man’s heart, and gave rise to a well-founded belief that there was treachery in their midst, and that plans decided even in their secret councils were made known to the Danes.  What wonder, then, that they grew dispirited, and that murmurs arose on all hands, while the army could scarcely keep together for want of provisions?

The war was at present raging in the southern counties, but ever and anon the marauders made a forced march, and sacked some helpless town remote from the seat of war.

There was no prospect, Elfwyn said, of the campaign coming to an end; the harvest must take care of itself or the women and children must reap it.  The men were all and more than all, wanted in Wessex.

There were loving messages for wife and children, and Alfgar was not forgotten.

But there was one piece of information contained in the letter which made Alfgar very uneasy, and reminded him of his dream.

One Boom, a retainer of Elfwyn, had been taken prisoner by the Danes, and by a very uncommon piece of good fortune had escaped with life from his ferocious captors.  He stated that he had been closely examined concerning his home, character of the population, and their means of defence, especially as to the events of St. Brice’s night.  Although he strove to evade their questions, yet he incautiously, or through fear of torture, revealed that he came from Aescendune.

The name evoked immediate interest, and he was asked several further questions about the destruction of Anlaf’s house, and what became of his son.  He tried to baffle their inquiries, and thought he had succeeded.

These facts the Lady Hilda thought of sufficient importance to justify their communication to Alfgar.  They caused her some anxiety.

The messenger returned to the army.  Weeks passed away, and the women and children, as well as the old men, were all busy in getting in the bounteous harvest with which this year God had blessed the earth.  Alfgar and Bertric worked like the theows themselves, and slowly the precious gifts were deposited in the garners.

Alfgar had one source of consolation in the love he bore to Ethelgiva, a love which was fully returned.  Their troth had been pledged to each other with the full consent of Elfwyn and the Lady Hilda; and on those fine August nights, as they walked home after the labours in the field, or the service in the priory, they forgot all the misery of the land, and lived only for each other.

Happy, happy days!  How often they looked back to them afterwards!

A second messenger came during harvest time from the camp, now on the borders of Sussex.  His news was no better than before.  The Danes were harassing the army on every side, but no decisive battle had been fought.  The enemy still seemed to know all the plans of the English beforehand; and the booty they had gained was enormous, while a deep distrust of their leaders was spreading amongst the defenders of the soil.