Ethelred the Unready was dead.

"We must leave him to God's mercy," said the bishop, as he closed the
eyes, while the wife and children of the unhappy king sobbed around.
"He knoweth whereof we are made; He remembereth that we are but dust."

Yet he trembled as he spoke, and, kneeling down, completed with
faltering voice the office for the commendation of the departed soul.

CHAPTER XX. THE MIDNIGHT FLIGHT.

So soon as the news of the death of Ethelred travelled abroad, the
bishops, abbots, ealdormen, and thanes of southern England, despairing
of the cause of the house of Cerdic, met together at Southampton, and
renouncing Ethelred and his descendants, elected Canute to be their
king, while he swore that both in things spiritual and temporal he
would maintain their liberties.

But the citizens of London were of nobler mould, and, disdaining
submission, chose Edmund to be their king. A council was at once held,
and it became apparent that the allegiance of the greater part of
Wessex depended upon Edmund's prompt appearance amongst them, while,
on the other hand, the rapid approach of Canute made his presence in
the city very essential to the safety of the inhabitants.

Up rose a noble thane, and spake his mind.

"Surely we can defend our own city until the valiant Edmund brings us
aid. We have kept off Canute before, and his father before him, and we
can do as much again. Meanwhile Edmund will soon have all Wessex at
his back, and Canute will find his match for once."

The words of the gallant speaker found their echo in many a breast,
and it was decided that Edmund should be advised to hurry into Wessex,
and leave London to defend itself.

A deputation from the council at once waited upon Edmund, and in the
name of the city, and, as they took the liberty of adding, of every
true man in England, they proferred him his father's crown. Like the
citizens of a certain modern capital, they constituted themselves the
representatives of the nation.

Edmund, who certainly did not lack confidence, and who could not help
knowing that he alone was able to cope with the Danes, took scant time
to consider their proposal.

"I accept the crown," he said; "a thorny one it is like to prove, but
I thank you for your love and trust."

In the course of a day or two Ethelred the Unready was buried by
Archbishop Lyfing in St. Paul's minster, with the assistance of the
cathedral body. Emma and her children, as also Edwy, t