“It is hard to think that of Alfred,” I said.

“Ay; but I saw his face as he rode away just before I sought you.  Never saw I such a look on a man’s face before, and I pray that I may not see it again.  It was terrible to look on him, for I think he had lost all hope.”

“For the time, maybe,” I said; “but I cannot believe that when the first weight of the blow passed he was not himself again.”

Presently there came a shift of wind and a quick thaw with driving rain, and floods grew and spread rapidly in the low-lying lands.  One good thing can be said of this weather, and that was that because of it the Danes burned neither town nor farmstead, needing all the shelter they could find.

Three days that gale lasted, and then the wind flew round again to the north, with return of the frost in even greater strength than before; and the weather-wise fishers and shepherds said that this betokened long continuance thereof, and so it seemed likely to be.

But through it all we heard no tidings of the king; and in one way that was good, for had he been taken by the Danes, they would have let all men know thereof soon enough.  But we feared that he might have been slain by some party who knew not who he was, and that fear hung heavily over us all.

Next we had a messenger from Odda, who was at Exeter, asking for sure word of what had befallen; and the one hope we had yet was gone, for he too knew nothing.

Very sad and silent was Osmund the jarl, though he and Thora were most kindly received as honoured guests by the Lady Alswythe and the household of the thane.

Once I asked him what his plans were, for we were both strangers, and I knew him best.

“Presently,” he said, “I shall try to get back to Guthrum.  While I am here I will be held as if I were no one—­as a harmless ghost who walks the house, neither seeing nor hearing aught.  If there were Welsh to be fought, I would fight beside you all, gladly, for Alfred; but as the war is against my own folk, I can do nothing.  I will neither fight for them nor fight against them; for King Alfred and you, my friend, gave me life, and it is yours.  I think that some day I may be of use to Alfred in helping to bring about a lasting peace.”

“If we find him,” I said.

“Ay, you will find him.  He is hiding now for some wise reason that we shall know.  I think it is not known how his plans are feared by our folk.  I am sure that of this midwinter march the Danes will say that it is worthy of Alfred himself.”

Nevertheless we heard nothing of him, though the thane had men out everywhere trying to gain news.  All that they heard was the same tale of dismay from whoever they might meet, and I think that but for a chance we should not have found him until he chose to come forth from his refuge.

Heregar the thane had a strange serving man, the same who had ridden with him and me to meet the Danish forces; and this man was a fenman from Sedgemoor, who knew all the paths through the wastes.  Lean and loose-limbed he was, and somewhat wild looking, mostly silent; but where his lord went he went also.  They said that he had saved the thane’s life more than once in the great battles about Reading, when the Danish host first came.