“May I not fight the Danes, Prince?”

“No, you are too young; you must go and take care of your mother and sisters.”

“I don’t want to be shut up with the women.  I have killed a wolf.  I shot him with my bow in Newenham wood.”

“Well, we will see by and by, my brave boy.  We shall have work for all; go and arm with the rest.

“Well, Alfgar?”

“Let my post be near you.”

“You will fight in this quarrel, then?”

“Yes; to save Christian blood.”

“Then I adopt you as an Englishman—­Dane no longer.  I know your courage and coolness, and will employ it where it is wanted.  Now, you know the place; come and place the outposts where they can retire easily.”

The small sally port, as it would have been called in later times, was opened, and two men were in each case posted together all round the building, under cover of trees, at convenient distances.  The trees immediately around the house had been cut down a few weeks earlier, by order of Herstan, who saw they might afford cover to an enemy, in case the prince’s prophecies were fulfilled, as proved now to be the case.

The building was large and irregular, and had been added to at various times, the hall, looking over the river, forming its most conspicuous portion; but it had not originally been built for purposes of defence, and could not have endured the Danish assault for a moment, but for external defences, utterly independent of the building, which had been recently added; a mound, surmounted by crossed palisades, skilfully strengthened by osier bands, and a deep outer ditch, now full of snow, surrounded the building on three sides.  The fourth was defended by the river, which, being full owing to the late rains, rushed impetuously along below.

“Alfgar,” said Edmund, “ask Father Cuthbert to see that all the helpless ones—­women and children—­are safely shut up in an inner apartment, where no Danish arrow can find them.”

This was accomplished, and Father Cuthbert cheered them all with his calm placid manner; reassuring this one and cheering that, seeming quite insensible to fear himself:  one moment all sympathy, then all brightness, his presence was invaluable in the crisis.

“And now,” said Edmund, “to the stables; the horses and cattle must be turned loose tonight, or the Danes will burn them in their barns and sheds.”

The farm buildings lay some little distance without, and the Etheling and Alfgar, with two or three farm servants, carried out the task hastily but effectually.  Duties were meanwhile assigned to all the able-bodied women and boys:  some provided buckets and ladders, that, in case the Danes attempted to kindle a flame, they might attempt in vain; others tore up lint and prepared bandages for the wounded, while others passed into the upper apartments to see that no lights remained which could direct the aim of the foe.