The attire of Edric was similar in shape, but of different colour; his tunic was of green, edged with brown fur, his mantle of dark cloth, and his belt of embossed leather.  There was a studied humility in it all, as if he shunned all comparison with the king.

Ednoth said grace, and the chanters responded.  The canons of the cathedral, the priests of the other churches, the sheriff of the county, the reeve of the borough, the burgesses, all had their places, and the banquet began; huge joints being carried round to each individual, from which, with his dagger, he cut what he fancied and deposited it on his plate; then wine, ale, and mead were poured foaming into metal tankards, and lighter delicacies followed.  There was no delay; no one cared to talk until he had satisfied his appetite.

The king, as a matter of course, opened the conversation, when the edge of desire was gone.

“Have the levies who served in the war all been disbanded, Sheriff?”

“The last returned from the garrisons in Sussex a week ago, and are all hoping for a quiet winter in the bosom of their families.”

“Have they lost many of their number?  Did the people of this hundred suffer greatly in the war which Sweyn forced upon us?”

“Not very many; still there has been a little mourning, and much anticipation of future evil,” replied the bishop.

“That is needless,” said Edric; “they may all prepare to keep their Christmas with good cheer.  The Danes are sleeping, hibernating like bears in their winter caves.”

“While they are so near as the Wight, who can rest in peace?” said Ednoth.

“The Wight! it must be a hundred miles from here; the Danes have never reached any spot so far from the coast as this.”

“Yet there is an uneasy belief that they will attack the inland districts now that they have exhausted the districts on the coast, and that we must be prepared to suffer as our brethren have done.”

“Before they leave their retreat again we shall be ready to meet them; our levies will be better trained and more numerous.”

“A curse seemed upon all our exertions this last year,” said Ednoth, sorrowfully.  “We were defending our hearths and our homes, yet we were everywhere outmanoeuvred and beaten.  It could not have been worse had we had spies and traitors in command.”

The king slightly coloured, for he resented all imputations on his favourite, and was about to make a sharp reply, when a voice which made him start, replied: 

“Quite right, reverend father! as you say, success was impossible while spies and traitors commanded our forces.”

All looked up in amazement; two guests had entered unbidden, and the king, the bishop, and Edric recognised Prince Edmund.

“The unseemly interruption is a sufficient introduction to the company.  I need not, my friends, present to you my turbulent son Edmund, or the attendant he has picked up.”