nd saw Herstan's little son,
a boy of twelve years, touching his garment, and looking at him with
unfeigned admiration.

"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 buil