Saturday.—­Vigil of St. Andrew, and Eve of Advent Sunday.—­

All this week I have been watching by the sickbed of the Etheling.

I hope the crisis is past, but he is still very weak.  He has been delirious nearly the whole time, and today has but a confused idea of things around him.

All our inquiries about Alfgar have been fruitless, but there was one circumstance which we learned, which seemed to me to bear some reference to the matter.

The ferryman, whose hut is situate at the bend of the river below the Synodune hills, where people cross for Wittenham, says that late on the night in question a boat with four people passed down the river, and that it struck him that one only rowed, while two of the rest seemed guarding the fourth passenger.  He did not know the boat, yet he thought he knew every boat on the river.

This he has told to Herstan and others, but no further discovery has ensued.

But another important matter has claimed our attention.  The king left on Monday without making any efforts to profit by the Etheling’s discovery at Carisbrooke; but we could not in conscience let the matter rest.  So Herstan and I went on to Dorchester on Wednesday, and I obtained an audience of the bishop, while he sought the sheriff.

The bishop received me very kindly, and talked to me a great deal a bout the happy days of Dunstan, when peace and plenty ruled everywhere; but I led the conversation to the point I aimed at, and told him frankly how alarmed we were at Abingdon about Edmund’s tidings.

“And so was I,” said he, “and I have persuaded the king to place guards and watchers all through the coasts opposite the Wight, and with Edric’s aid we elaborated a goodly plan.”

“Indeed,” said I, “but I wish Edric had nought to do with it.”

“So did I at first, but I feel convinced that the young Dane who vanished so suspiciously must have deceived the prince concerning the presence of Edric in the Danish camp, and that we have no sufficient reason for thinking him such a child of hell as he would be could he betray his country thus cruelly.  It would be Satanic wickedness.  He is, I believe, a bad and untrustworthy man, but not quite so bad as all that.”

I tried to explain my reasons for being of a contrary opinion, and asked what was the plan.

“Advanced guards have been placed all along the coasts of Hampshire, beacons prepared on every hill, with constant attendants, so that the Danes would find their coming blazed over the country at once.”

“But if so, what men have we to oppose to them?”

“The sheriff has promised that the levies shall appear in case of need.”

“Does he realise the danger?”

“I hardly think he believes in it; but the beacons will give sufficient warning.”

“Who has arranged the guards and chosen the sites for the beacons?”

“Edric, of course, as general of the forces under the king.”