tion shown him, one would hardly think the lion could be such a
lamb. He intends to receive the Blessed Sacrament of the Body and
Blood of Christ on Christmas day in the little church of St. Michael
here, and then he will leave for London in the course of the week.

We have heard nothing of Alfgar--we fear there is no hope; but the
prince clings to it, and says his dream will come true, and that
Alfgar has yet a great work to do.

Christmas Eve, 1006.--

O happy happy Christmastide! All griefs seem hushed and all joys
sanctified by the blessed mystery of the Incarnation. O that Mary's
blessed Son, the Prince of Peace, may indeed bring us peace on earth,
and good will towards men!

The weather is beautiful. The stars shine as brightly tonight as if
they were the lights about His throne; the very earth has decked
herself in her clear and spotless robe of snow in His honour. As for
the dear ones who were with us last Christmas--Bertric, Alfgar (for I
fear he is gone where I hope he keeps a happier Christmas)--they have
left the heart less lonely, for if we miss them on earth they seem to
attract us to heaven, which is yet more like home when we think of the
loved and the lost who await us there.

We sing a midnight mass in an hour in the little church, another
tomorrow at dawn, a third in the full daylight. All the good people
here will communicate, and the evening will be given up to such
merrymaking as is befitting amongst Christians. All the ceorls and
serfs will be at the Hall, and the prince will share the
entertainment. Herstan and Bertha have been very busy preparing for
it, as also their children, Hermann, Ostryth, and Aelfleda.

But I must go and assist in decking the church for the midnight
festivity.

CHAPTER XVI. THE FEAST OF CHRISTMAS.

Alfgar had completely lost the reckoning of times and days since his
imprisonment, but he felt that weeks must have passed away, and that
the critical period foretold by Edmund must be near, so he listened
anxiously for any intelligence from the world without.

At last the weather became very cold, and being without a fire, his
sufferings were great, until his ferocious gaoler, finding him quite
stiffened, brought up a brazier of coals, which saved his prisoner's
life, while it filled the room with smoke, which could only escape by
the crevices in walls and roof, for to open a window would have been
as bad as to dispense with the fire, such was the state of the