however, aid your friend," he said, "by a feigned attack
to-morrow evening when he is there. This may help him to escape, and if
the Danes sally out next day in pursuit there will be the fewer for him
to cope with."

When Edmund awoke the next morning he found himself able to walk and
move without difficulty and with but little pain, thanks to the care of
the peasants, and in the afternoon, being furnished by the count with a
guide, he started for the town.

When he arrived within a short distance he dismissed his guide and lay
down in some bushes till nightfall, then he rose and made his way into
the town, passing unobserved between the watch-fires made by the
parties of Danes encamped in its outskirts to protect it against
surprise. Once in the town, he walked boldly on, having no fear of
recognition or question.

Sounds of carousing came through the open casements, but few people
were in its streets. He made his way down to the sea-shore, which he
followed until he came to a large and stately mansion standing in
beautifully laid out gardens at the end of the town. Several tents were
erected in the garden; and although the night was not cold great fires
had been lighted, around which the Danes were carousing.

Avoiding these Edmund walked up to the open windows. The first room he
looked into was deserted, but in the next, which was a large apartment,
a number of Danes were seated at table. At its head sat Sweyn with
Freda on his right hand. Around were a number of his leading men, the
captains of the galleys and their wives. The meal was over, and the
winecup was passing round. A number of attendants moved about the room,
and many of the warriors who had supped elsewhere stood around the
table, joining in the conversation and taking their share of the wine.

Edmund saw at once that he could not hope for a more favourable
opportunity, and he accordingly entered the mansion, and, passing
through the open door, joined the party within, keeping himself in rear
of those standing round the table, so that the light from the lamps
placed there should not fall upon his face.

Just as he had taken his place, Sweyn called out: "Let us have a song.
Odoacre the minstrel, do you sing to us the song of the Raven."

A minstrel bearing a small harp advanced into the centre of the
horse-shoe table, and after striking a chord, began to sing, or rather
to chant one of the favourite songs of the sea-rovers.

A shout of applause