rew himself into the strife, and drove the foe back from the
breach they had previously made, but even his valour could not restore
confidence.

"All is lost! all is lost!" cried some panic-stricken trembler, as he
saw the flames spread.

"To the river, to the river, to the boats!" cried others.

"Nay, nay," shouted Edmund, "we are not conquered yet; we can defend
ourselves till daylight, or we can depart in order. Alfgar, bid the
women and children prepare to leave the hall as the fire spreads; and
you, Herstan, see that if the worst comes to the worst, the retreat to
the river is made in order. We will defend the place if necessary till
the last man, and cover your retreat; but all is not lost yet. Take a
dozen stout men, mount the roof, the fire is not lower down; let them
destroy the burning portion with their axes; let the women stand
behind with the water.

"Archers, keep the Danes back. See those brutes there aiming at your
wives on the roof; bring them down; make them keep their distance.
Guard well the palisades."

But, although his orders were obeyed, the Danes grew bolder; the men
could not work on the roof in the midst of the arrows. The women and
children, emerging terror-struck from the hall, made every father's
heart sink within him.

Edmund cried aloud:

"To the gate, to the gate! the villains have got the drawbridge down."

He rushed to the spot himself, and found that some adventurous Dane
had severed the chains and lowered the bridge in the momentary
confusion of its defenders, and the gate was yielding before their
strokes.

He arrived; and that moment the gate fell. He stood in the breach
himself; one man against a dozen. He did all a hero could; but he was
already bleeding. Alfgar, ever faithful, fought like a lion by his
side. Herstan and his bravest warriors brought their aid, but all
seemed lost.

"Tell them to retreat to the river.

"Herstan, conduct the retreat; Alfgar and I can keep them out for five
minutes more."

"All is lost! all is lost!" the cry arose within.

"No; saved! saved!" cried Father Cuthbert from the roof. "What!
Englishmen, to the rescue! to the rescue!"

The Danes suddenly wavered, then turned in surprise and despair; for
from the darkness behind emerged the forms of hundreds of Englishmen,
who fell upon the Danes. The levies were out, and only just in time.

"One charge!" said Edmund; and, rushing forward, led the way into the
heart of the foe.

. . .